Golfing With Daddy's Best Friend Page 2

  As soon as they’re done with the hole, she says to my dad, “Honey, my stomach hurts. It must be the milk I drank at breakfast.”

  My dad blinks. “You didn’t drink any. We were out of milk.”

  “Then it must’ve been the coffee… I don’t know. I’ve got to go.” She presses her belly with her hands, groans louder, and grimaces.

  Dad becomes worried right away. “We’ve got to get you to a doctor.”

  Ryan looks concerned, too. “Is it serious? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “No!” Stephanie blurts. “Not that serious. I just need to go home and rest.”

  I roll my eyes. It’s obvious she’s feigning it. There isn’t a bead of sweat on her forehead.

  Dad apologizes to Ryan, “I’m sorry, bro. I’m afraid Steph and I have to go. But Mira will stay.”

  Ryan shrugs, “No problem, John. Take care! I’ll take Mira home once we’re done.”

  “Sorry, Ryan,” Stephanie says, smiling a little. “Come have dinner with us!”

  For a second, I want to protest. The thought that I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon with Ryan alone thrills me and frightens me. But I don’t say anything as I watch my Dad leave with his girlfriend.

  “So,” Ryan smiles at me as soon as I turn to face him. “I guess you have no choice but to learn to play?”

  I shrug. “Sure.” I put on the white glove Stephanie wore earlier.

  Ryan looks at me and nods appreciatively. “Damn. You’re the hottest golfer I’ve seen, Mira.”

  As I blush, he balances the golf ball on the tee in front of me and hands me the driver.

  I grab it the way I grab a broom and get ready to swing.

  Ryan chuckles. “You can’t hit the ball like that. It’ll only roll off the tee. Let me show you how to hold the club first.”

  I giggle and let him demonstrate. “This is the interlocking grip.” He shows me how to place the fingers of two hands.

  I do my best to copy him, but can’t get it right because all I can think of is how good he smells.

  He stands behind me to hold my hands and intertwines my fingers and adjusts my grip for me. His hands are rough with golf calluses, and they prickle my skin, sending exciting waves all over my body. Blood courses to the junction of my legs, and I can hardly stand. If he weren’t holding my hands, I would for sure fall onto the ground.

  “We’ll work on your stance,” he says, his breath hot on the back of my neck, making me tremble. “I want you to spread your legs and bend over.”

  “W-what?” I whisper. Spread my legs? Bend over? Why does it sound so hot? Eagerly, I do what he says, keeping my feet apart and bending forward, and immediately my butt nudges against his crotch.

  He groans and says in a low voice. “Not that much bending, sweetheart.”

  I straighten a bit, bumping into his chest this time.

  He growls again and curls his body over mine, wrapping his arms around my belly. “Stay still. I will show you how to swing.”

  I don’t hear anything. I only feel his body enveloping mine like a furnace. He is hot. His breath tickles my neck. His pants brush against my bare thighs. My bum nudges against him again, this time I felt something hard… is that his club? I don’t think so.

  “Just do as I say and try it,” he says. That’s all I heard.

  “Ok.” I take a deep breath as I grasp my club the way he wants me to. I rock back and forth as he showed me earlier. And then I draw back and swing forward, sending the ball straight ahead.

  “Not bad, right?” I ask after the ball bounces and disappears into the fairway.

  He nods. “It might even be on the green. Well done, Mira. You’re a genius.”

  I giggle. “I guess watching the games every week with my dad helps.”

  Chapter 6

  Ryan

  I’ve never enjoyed playing golf as much as I do today. Having Mira next to me and teaching her play give so much joy. She’s a quick learner, and she picks up the skills fast. She tees off at the next box without me adjusting her grip or the swing and again hit the green.

  That’s a sign that she has the talent for aiming her target and gauging the distance well. She has a fair amount of determination, too. Since a young age, Mira was single-minded. If she sets her mind to do something, she will do it and do it well. She knows what she wants, and she seldom changes her mind.

  I only wonder, has she changed her mind about me?

  It’s hard for me to stop my lustful eyes from roaming over her body: her mile-long legs accentuated by the skirt that barely covers her ass, and the outline of her firm breasts under the scanty cami top. Fuck, I don’t think she’s wearing a bra because I can make out the shape of her hard points, too. I can’t believe John allows her to dress like this in public. Does he realize that his baby girl’s a grownup now? But I suppose Mira doesn’t always do what her dad tells her to. Besides, John is doting on his girlfriend. Is he even paying attention to his daughter nowadays?

  I’m annoyed by the thought. I can’t stand the fact that Mira being alone, without the protection from his dad. I’m her daddy, too, and it’s my responsibility to protect her and to guard her. I must take her shopping later and get her something decent.

  As I teach Mira how to handle the putter next, I’m once again standing behind her and wrapping my arms around her to hold her hands. Fuck. How am I supposed to teach anything, if all I can think of is how soft her body is and how incredible it feels when her ass presses against my hard-on!

  I turn my face slightly away from her and take a deep breath, letting the smell of grass to wash off the honey, milky scent of Mira. “Don’t move your wrist, move your arms,” I say.

  She does as I say, hitting the ball using the right amount of force, with a tantalizing hip sway. I watch with bated breath as the ball rolls slowly and smoothly into the hole.

  She cheers again, and wriggles her ass, before high-fiving me. “I am a pro!”

  I chuckle, drinking in the sight of the happy girl I remember, instead of the pouty face that greeted me earlier. I would do anything to have her laugh and dance always.

  As we walk to the cart, Mira asks, “Why is it called a putter?”

  I shrug. “It’s for putting the ball into the hole. Putting means knocking a ball gently, so it rolls into the hole.”

  She nods. “I love these names. Putter, diver, iron, wood. So masculine.” she says with a naughty smile, dropping her gaze over my crotch.

  “Do you now?” I ask, swallowing. My cock twitches as she stops smiling and blinks innocently as if she didn’t mean what she just suggested.

  She’s teasing me, no doubt about it. My heart rate increases as I realize the fact. What does she want? Does she want to play with my iron, or my wood?

  If Mira is aware of my dirty thoughts, she doesn’t show. She drops her bag onto the back of the vehicle and rearranges her ponytail. She takes off her cap and smooths her hair.

  As she runs both of her hands in her silky blond hair, and arches her back, her perky breasts point forward and bounce in front of me, right under my nose. She knows I’m staring, and she self-consciously freezes. Her hands are still holding the back of her neck, and her elbow touching my arm. Her innocent, blue eyes reflect the color of the sky, drawing me to her and overpowering my self-control. Her fresh, uncoated, pouted lips beg to be kissed. Something snaps inside me.

  I grab her elbow and pull her to me.

  She doesn’t resist, but falls into my arms compliantly.

  I taste those lips—the lips that I rejected two years ago, and relish the heavenly sensation that I’ve pined for ever since. I brush her lips with mine, gently at first, feeling her relaxing into me, and hearing her cute little whimpers. As her lips open to me, I suck them harder, and soon my tongue is ransacking her young, hot mouth.

  My cock throbs in my pants recklessly, as it’s dying for a taste of her, too.

  I groan as she squirms against my hard cock, grinding me involuntarily—or i
ntentionally.

  I would go on kissing her and let her grind on me forever if it weren’t for the noises of a cart rolling past us.

  I pull myself away reluctantly, gasping for air as my eyes still lock on hers, and my hands still grasping her arms tightly. I want to devour her, right here on the golf course. I have no desire to finish the remaining ten holes, what I want to fill is right next to me, and I want to fill it with my seed.

  Chapter 7

  Mira

  I stand next to the cart in a trance, still processing what has just happened. Ryan kissed me. Ohmygod! I didn’t even expect it. I mean, he was looking at me pretty intensely, but then, he said he would never…

  After I get over the shock, my thoughts turn to the kiss. It was delicious. I’ve kissed a few guys before, and they were nothing to compare with this!

  It’s mind-blowing and panty-melting! Damn. I don’t know how to describe it better. I only know that I… I can’t move.

  I pull myself together when Ryan lets go of me and says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to shock you. Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” I say quickly. “I’m perfectly all right.”

  I climb into the cart after him. I try to keep a distance between us, but I can still feel the heat of his body seeping through our clothes. My heart beat doesn’t slow down at all.

  As Ryan drives us toward our next hole, I look around at the golf course, trying to say something to distract myself.

  “It’s so beautiful!” I whisper. The manicured grasses are greener and more beautiful than any lawn I’ve seen in real life or on TV. It isn’t flat, and it ripples with green waves. I can’t help but wonder how good it would be to lie down just for a bit, next to Ryan.

  “I wonder how good it’ll be to lie under the oak trees.” The thought escapes my mouth before I can stop it.

  Shit. I must sound like a slut to him. When Ryan pauses, I chide myself silently.

  “Let’s find out,” he says quietly, surprising me again.

  My mouth falls open. “I’m… just, kidding. What about golf?”

  “We can use a little break.” He stops the cart between two large oak trees, and then he turns to look at me with those intense grey eyes.

  My heart rate spikes again, and I’m unable to move. I guess I should get off the cart, but I don’t want to move away from him, not even for a second.

  He reaches to touch me, stroking my arm with the back of his index finger. “Are you enjoying your first golf, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” I say, staring at his lips, wanting to taste them again.

  “So you’re not mad at me anymore?”

  “No, Ryan,” I say. “I was never mad at you. I missed you, a lot.”

  His breath quickens, and he pulls me to him again, kissing me with urgency, stroking my back with his rough hands. I moan, enjoying the overwhelming, tingling sensation.

  As his eyes feast on my breasts under my cami, he asks in a gruff voice. “Do you wear such revealing clothes to school, Mira?”

  “Sometimes,” I say, teasing him to make him jealous. The truth is I don’t. The reason I’m not wearing a bra is because I was supposed to spend my afternoon in Tania’s house which is guy-free.

  He growls. “You shouldn’t. You’re turning random guys on.”

  “Do I turn you on, Ryan?” I ask, feeling thrilled by my power over him.

  “Naughty girl,” he says, his breath turning heavy. “You know the answer, don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say playfully, dropping my gaze onto the tent below his waist and gasping loudly. “Ohmygod! Is that a club under your pants? Why isn’t it in your golf bag?”

  He inhales sharply. “Jesus, Mira. You are such a bad girl.”

  I’m so turned on by my effect on him I can’t stop being bad. “Why? Ryan? I’m only taking a golf lesson. Can I practice my strokes with wood?”

  His eyes turn dark. He seems to be different from the gentle Ryan I know. I shiver, waiting excitedly what he’s about to do to me.

  But he doesn’t make a move. Neither does he say anything, as if daring me to do what I say.

  I reach out a trembling hand and place it on his hard-on. He doesn’t stop me, and I grip it and move my hand. “How’s my stroke?” I ask playfully, despite my thundering heart.

  He groans instantly, and before I know it he pulls me onto his lap.

  I shriek and sit right on top of his hard rod, my arm circling his neck.

  He slips his hand under my skirt and squeezes my butt cheek.

  “Ah,” I whimper, surprised by the gesture.

  His hand slides to my panties, and he inhales sharply. “You’re drenched. You want me so much?”

  “Yes, Ryan,” I whisper into his ear. “I’ve wanted you forever.”

  His other hand reaches my breast, and he strokes my nipple under my cami. “You little tease,” he murmurs. “Swinging your little tits and rubbing your ass at me, making me so horny.”

  I moan. I was right. He was checking me out. “I didn’t mean to!” I say. “It was an accident.”

  “Accident?” His finger strums across my clit and glides through my slippery folds. “Tell me you didn’t want this?”

  I moan. “Mm… Ryan. I wanted it. I’m sorry. Don’t stop.”

  I squirm on his lap, making sure I press against his hard cock. “You’re so hard, Ryan. I wish I have you in my hole.” Oh God. I sound so dirty. I must’ve gotten my foul mouth from Stephanie.

  He growls and puts a finger inside me. “Do you want this, too?”

  “Yes, I do.” I croak. “Deeper, please.”

  He curses again while doing what I say and closes his eyes as if to focus his attention on his fingers. “Oh baby, you’re so fucking tight. Are you still a virgin?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Fuck.” He stops what he’s doing. His eyes fly open, and his finger slips out of me. “This is so wrong.”

  “No, it isn’t.” I whine. “It’ll be wrong if you don’t finish what you started.”

  “But I can’t do this. You’re your dad’s baby girl.”

  “No!” I cry. “I’m not a baby girl. I’m eighteen. I don’t want anyone else to pop my cherry. I want you!”

  He lets out a low grunt, putting me onto the seat next to him, tugs one side of my dress off my shoulder, exposing my breast. He sucks it hungrily, and I squeal with delight. I love seeing him so possessive of me. The sight alone is enough to push me closer to come. I reach down to touch myself and he stops me. As soon as his finger is back inside me, he curls it and massages my walls, sending delicious thrills all over me.

  I climb to the precipice of my orgasm effortlessly. My body trembles as a gush of warm fluid spurts onto Ryan’s hand.

  Ryan licks his fingers. “You taste so damn sweet.”

  I chuckle weakly, still limp from the powerful sensation.

  “Are you okay?” he asks as he holds me and kisses me.

  “Yes,” I say. “But I want more. I want your cock inside me.”

  The softness in his eyes is gone again, and his grasp on my arms tightens.

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “If I do that, you’ll be mine, and mine forever!”

  “I’m sure, Ryan. I wanted to be yours since I was sixteen. I’ve never wanted another man. I want you to take me here and now!” I emphasize my urge by grabbing his hard iron.

  “Fuck!” His breath hitches and his eyes become even more intense as he watches my hand moving up and down on his pants. For a moment it looks like he’ll do just what I want him to, taking me right here on the golf course.

  But as I reach the zipper, he grasps my hand. “Jesus, Mira, wait. I’ll make you mine, sweetheart. But not here, not now. You deserve better. Let’s go to my room.”

  “Sure.” I smile.

  We drive back to the clubhouse. As soon as we get out of the cart, I notice a wet stain on Ryan’s pants, from his precum. It isn’t obvious, but it’s hot.

  “Damn,”
he says, trying to hide it with his golf bag. “Look what you did to me, Mira. You’re turning me into a fucking teenager.”

  “Don’t golfers always wear an extra pair of pants?” I tease him.

  He looks puzzled. “Not that I know of. Who says? What for?”

  “Says my dad. It’s in case they got a hole in one!” I giggle as soon as I finish telling the joke. I always find it funny, no matter how many times I’ve told it.

  Ryan laughs and shakes his head. “I’ve got to speak to John. He’s such a bad influence.”

  Chapter 8

  Ryan

  I check out at the clubhouse and leave the golf course with Mira, making it the shortest golf game I ever have. I can’t possibly play for another second, not with my dick constantly twitching in my pants.

  It’s a five-minute walk from the clubhouse to the hotel, but it feels like an eternity. I wrap my arm around her shoulders as we walk, and her arm rests on my waist. I try to appear calm, but inside, my heart is hammering madly and my body temperature soars. Mira is quiet, too, but I can hear her frantic heartbeat.

  Am I doing the right thing? I ask myself again. What would John say? He would be mad for sure. It might even be the end of our friendship. Am I going to let it stop me? Hell, no! I’m not about to let Mira out of my life again. She belongs to me—we belong to each other. What else could explain our attraction to each other after all these years? I will not lie to myself anymore. I will not change my mind. I only have to put a seal on her, to claim her before another lucky bastard does.

  As we wait for the elevator door to open, I stamp a kiss on her forehead, and she smiles up at me. Oh God. I don’t think I can wait a minute longer. Where is the fucking elevator?

  When the door opens, I practically drag her into the empty interior. I pin her against the wall before the door even closes, and press my lips on her, ravaging her sweet mouth once again, and slip my hand under her skirt to squeeze her little ass.