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An irresistible invitation

Having come directly from work, I was dressed in long pants, a dress shirt, and a tie. Unsuitable attire for golf any day, but especially on a hot day like this. I reached back over the seat, grabbed my shorts and golf shirt from the back seat, and began to change while sitting in the front seat. After stripping off my shirt, tie, and pants, I pulled my golf shirt over my head and my shorts up as far as possible while still seated inside the truck.

When I stepped out of the truck and turned my back to the parking lot to finish pulling up my shorts and tucking in my shirt, I found myself face-to-face with Whitney.

"You know they have a locker room here for that. But please, don't hurry on my account. Frankly, I would rather see you undressing than dressing in front of me."

Whitney was the female member of our tournament group. I remembered hearing last year that she was in her late 40s or early 50s, but the years had been kind to her. She was tall, at least five-seven, and had blue eyes and auburn hair. She was slender with a small waist and breasts appropriate for her body. While all those features were incredible, none were her best asset by far. That was her legs. She had the most amazing legs I had ever seen, and almost every inch of them showed beautifully in her skort golf skorts.

Her top was red. It caressed and accentuated her stunning athletic body. She played with our group in this same tournament last year, but I hadn't noticed how striking she was then since I was going through a divorce from my wife of almost 30 years. This time, however, I noticed she had no ring on her left hand. I continued to tuck in my shirt and zip my shorts.

"Surely you must have someone better to think about undressed than me," I said shyly.

She just smiled. "Need any help with your shorts?"

"Temping, but no, I've got it. See you at check-in," I said like a fool.

"Your loss," she said as she waved her hand above her head and walked off toward the clubhouse.

I was late, so I grabbed my bag, hoisted it to my shoulder, and strode to the clubhouse. The rest of the team was already there and had checked me in. Jeff told me to put my bag on cart thirty-four. Without a word, I nodded and began my search for cart number thirty-four. After three exasperating minutes, I found it next to the eighteenth green.

As I approached, I noticed there was already a bag on the cart. I placed my bag on the open driver's side slot and cinched the loop. I was getting my tees, ball mark, and balls from my bag when I heard Whitney's voice.

"Oh, excellent. I was hoping we would be in the same cart." She said with a mischievous grin on her face.

I replied, "Me too." Somehow, I didn't think this was an accident.

Soon, Jeff and our other teammate, Chris, returned, and we were off to the twelfth tee box for the shotgun start. On our way to the tee box, Whitney chatted about how good it was to see me and apologized in advance for her golf game, which she said had not been good lately.

We determined an order of play at the tee and teed off when the horn sounded. When we reached the green, we agreed Whitney should putt after Jeff and Chris but before me because she was the second-best putter in the group.

Jeff and Chris each missed their putts and moved to the other side of the green, offering advice on the line. Whitney stepped up and addressed the putt. Noticeably making a point of exaggerating her read of the green break and speed by bending over repeatedly. Each time, putting her beautiful white-clad bum directly in my line of sight.

After she put and missed ever so slightly, I stepped up and sank the putt for a birdie. There were high fives and knuckle bumps all around. On the way back to the cart, Whitney patted me on the butt, saying, "Nice putt."

The rest of the round went pretty much like the first hole, except Whitney's appreciation for my good shots became increasingly more demonstrative. Pats on the butt escalated and became accompanied by hugs and a kiss on the cheek after I made an eagle putt on number seven.

Additionally, the cart conversation became increasingly filled with sexual innuendo. Golf is the perfect game for that, with words like putters, balls, big stick, grip her and rip her, hole-outs, and many more. We laughed together and had a splendid time.

After the game, I took her clubs to her car before going to my truck to put my clubs away and before going to the awards ceremony. I was emptying my pockets and putting things into my bag when I felt something soft and silky in the pocket of my bag. Curious, I pulled it out and looked with disbelief at what I saw.

Dangling from my fingertips was a black lace thong with a note; "I couldn't wear this with my white shorts, so I thought you might like them. I would like you to return them in person. When you do, I will make you an unforgettable meal." At the bottom was a phone number and address.

I tossed the thong and note onto the seat of my truck, changed out of my golf shoes, put my clubs in the bed of my truck, and moved awkwardly off to the clubhouse.

The clubhouse was crowded, and the line at the buffet table was long. Other players were three deep at the no-host bar. I saw Jeff and Chris sitting at a table, so rather than fight the crowd, I made my way over to them. Deciding neither food nor drink was that important to me.

Just as I sat, Whitney appeared next to me. She had a beer in each hand, one of which she placed in front of me. I thanked her, pulled the chair beside me, and motioned for her to sit. It was a little awkward since I had found her "present," but I tried to act as if I hadn't as we all talked.

During the awards ceremony, her hand would find my thigh and squeeze it just before a winner was announced. Saying, "Oh, excuse me, I'm just so nervous. I love to win." It was stimulating, but I hated these ceremonies more than playing in the tournaments. So when it finally ended, I finished my beer and stood, thanking Jeff and Chris over my shoulder for including me in this event. Something I almost meant.

As I turned to leave, Whitney stood too. I felt her hand brushing the front of my shorts as she hugged me. "I enjoyed playing with you and would like to play with you again soon; how about tomorrow night?"

Somewhat flushed, I said, "That would be fun, but it will be dark; I will call you if I can find your number." Laughing to myself as I knew I had it.

Back at my truck, I opened the door her thong and note right there where I had left them. I picked them up, tossed them into the passenger seat, and drove home. All the while unable to stop thinking about Whitney's incredibly long, sexy legs and where they ended.

When I got home, I grabbed the thong and note off the seat and tossed them on the couch on my way to the kitchen for a beer and some decent food. I grabbed a beer but saw nothing in the appetizing refrigerator, so I closed the door and went to the bathroom for a shower.

It had been hot during the round, I was sweaty, and Whitney's flirtatious actions had not helped. Maybe I better make it a cold shower. As I cleaned up, I found myself thinking of her. It might be fun to join her for dinner; it was just dinner.

After my shower, I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and a tee shirt-and returned to the kitchen for something to eat. Still finding nothing, I grabbed another beer before shuffling to the family room and turning on the TV. I found a baseball game and tuned in, trying to ignore the thong and the note right next to me. The game wasn't that compelling, and even if it had been, I found it increasingly difficult to stop thinking about her. Finally, after an hour, I picked up the phone and dialed the number on the note. She answered just as I was about to hang up on the third ring.

"Hello." Suddenly, I couldn't speak. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"Hello, is this a prank call?" This time, I managed. "Hi, Whitney, this is uh, Jon. I got your note and thought I would call about your invitation for dinner." God! I sounded like a sophomore in high school calling a girl for the first time, not a 68-year-old man. I was even shaking a little.

"I am glad you found my note, and I am even happier you called so soon. I was unsure how you would react to my present and offer, and I have been unable to stop thinking about you."

Flattered beyond words, "Really?"

"Yes, you left so abruptly from the awards ceremony I didn't get the chance to ask if you found my note, and when you said if I can find your number, I was worried you might not have had a reason to get into that pocket. I really couldn't bear the thought of that".

Unable to say anything again, I was silent. Whitney again broke the awkward silence, saying, "So, can you come for dinner tomorrow? It is Saturday, giving me all day to prepare for our meal and time together."

"I have a tee time tomorrow at nine with the guys, and we have a beer or two after the round, so I could come over after that if you are sure that works for you."

"Absolutely, play golf, have a beer with the guys, then come straight over."

"OK, it might be as early as 2:30 or 3."

"Perfect, she said, "the earlier, the better." I hung up, not sure exactly what that meant.

I woke at six am Saturday morning, made coffee, checked my email, and then decided to wash my truck before golf. I got to the course at about 8:30, checked in, warmed up for a minute, and then teed off. The course was busy, and the round took over 5 hours.

Jeff asked me to come over for dinner during the round, saying his wife Karen wanted to see me. Besides, what else would I do but go home and work around the house. I said thanks, but I have plans tonight. That caused all three of them to stop and laugh at me.

"You never have plans except for work, golf, and home projects."

I said, "I know, but tonight I do." That initiated a non-stop barrage of questions. One was right after the other, but I would only say I had plans.

The painfully long round finally ended, and we sat on the deck at the club, having a beer, the relentless questioning continuing. I always changed the subject, not giving up my dinner with plans, Whitney. As I drank my first beer, I became increasingly excited to get to her house, so after I finished one beer and collected my winnings, I stood to leave.

"Where are you going," they all asked. "It must finally be a woman because you never leave after just one beer."

I just smiled. "See you guys' later."

I pulled up to her house twenty minutes later. It was a beautiful little Craftsman-style home. It had a front porch with a swing and was perfectly landscaped. I walked up the steps to the front door, carrying her thong wrapped around a bottle of Merlot. Like a kid on a first date, I was excited and felt a stirring in my shorts. I rang the bell and heard footfalls on a wood floor before the door swung open.

She was gorgeous! Her auburn hair fell just about to her shoulders, and her eyes were so blue that you could get lost in them. Dressed in a figure-hugging, short, one-piece cotton shift that highlighted all her incredible features and left almost nothing to the imagination.

"You look incredible," I gasped.

"Just for you, darling, please come in." I handed her the thong-wrapped wine. She took the wine and returned the thong to me, saying, "That was for you. Besides, I really can't wear one with this outfit either."

I followed her through the house to the kitchen. She put the wine on a counter and asked if I wanted a beer. "Sure, would you like me to open the wine?"

"No, I have a bottle open, but you can top off my glass, though," she replied.

I talked nervously for a few minutes, trying to find something to say that made me sound intelligent instead of like a schoolboy smitten at the sight of his first love. She said dinner would be awhile and suggested we sit on the back deck and enjoy the late afternoon.

I asked if I could take a quick shower first as I was sweaty from golf, and her appearance was not helping that either.

She showed me to her bathroom. When I stripped, I had to pull my boxers over my stiff cock. As the warm water cascaded over me, I decided I should turn it cold to keep my raging libido in check. A battle I was losing. I stepped out of the shower and toweled off. When I picked up my clothes to dress, I found my boxers missing. Still naked, I opened the bathroom door and called out to Whitney, "Uh, Whitney, I can't find my boxers."

"I came in and picked them up. I figured you have a pair of my underwear; I should have a pair of yours. You will just have to go commando. Nice ass, by the way."

So I pulled my shorts over my naked body and stepped out of the bathroom, pulling my shirt over my head as I walked back toward the kitchen. Whitney was standing in the kitchen holding another beer for me in one hand and her wine glass in the other. I took the beer from her, pulled the slider open, and stepped onto the deck, where there were two chaises and a table with four chairs. I moved to one of the chairs at the table, but Angie suggested we sit on the chaises as we would be much more comfortable there. We sat, drank, and talked about golf, the weather, her lovely home, and our mutual friends. After about an hour, she turned and asked me if I thought she was attractive.

"Uh, no, I don't think you are attractive. I know you are stunning."

"Then why didn't you respond to my flirting at the tournament yesterday. I was trying to get you to engage in some erotic talk and touch me. God knows I wanted to put my hand in your pants." "I, I, I guess I was focused on the game, and it has been a long time since any woman, especially one as gorgeous as you, has paid any attention to me. I guess I am just a guy whose subtleties don't work on; I need to be hit over the head", I replied.

With that, she rose, saying she needed to finish up dinner. As she passed by me, she bent over slightly and kissed me. Her mouth was warm, her red lipstick flavorful. Her tongue gently worked to part my lips. Her breath was sweet. I brushed her lips with my tongue and sucked her lower lip. She pulled her lip back and sucked my tongue into her mouth.

As she pulled away to go, we kissed again. She suggested I come into the kitchen while she finished dinner to continue our conversation. When I rose to follow her, we both noticed the tent in my shorts from my very erect member. I was slightly embarrassed and turned to hide it as much as possible while Whitney just smiled. Pretty sure she wanted to see that.

She moved about the kitchen, finishing dinner. I was mesmerized by her movements and body. Her tight white one-piece shift moved slightly and wrinkled with every move she made. Her breasts pressed into the top, and her protruding nipples were prominent. Each time she reached for something, her dress would rise and expose more of her unbelievable legs. When she reached to the top shelf of a cupboard, it moved enough to expose the very top of her thigh at the crease of her butt. She was putting on quite a show for me. To this day, I couldn't begin to tell you what we talked about.

All too soon, she announced dinner was done. She plated the food and suggested we eat on the deck. I jumped up to help her carry the food and our beverages out to the deck, once again hoping she wouldn't notice my full erection. Not to mention the spot of pre-cum spot on my shorts that came from her erotic display during the dinner preparation.

The evening was warm, and the sun was setting. Sitting at the table on the deck across from each other, and just as I took my second mouthful, I was startled when her bare foot found my crotch. I almost choked. I looked at her. She just smiled and continued to rub my shorts with her foot.

"Uh, you need to stop that, or your lovely dinner will go to waste."

"Oh darling, it heats up well."

That was all the invitation I needed. I rose and moved to her side of the table. I grabbed her hand and pulled her up, kissing her deeply as she stood. Holding and kissing her felt so good. Without a word, we moved in unison to a chaise, where I picked her up and laid her down. I stood over her, momentarily admiring her beauty.

She looked up perplexed and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Not one thing. You are so beautiful I can't believe I am here." Without another word, I moved my body over hers, kissing her again. First, her eyes, then her nose, and then I ran my tongue over her lips. She was pulling me down to be on top of her, but I resisted, moving instead to kiss her ears and her neck as I moved to her breast.

I was softly rubbing her breast with one hand as I kissed her other through her shift. She responded with a slight moan and movement to ensure I was getting to just the right spot for her. I continued to mouth her breast through her dress as my hand moved down her side to the bottom of her dress that was now up over the top of her thighs.

I stopped mouthing her breast and reached down, grabbed the hem, and pulled the dress up over her head. Her naked body and perfectly shaven pussy glistened in the moonlight. I gently pushed apart her legs and moved my mouth to her pussy. I licked her outer lips and then pulled back her mound, exposing her clitoris.

I ran my tongue up and down her vaginal lips and flicked her clitoris as I sucked and licked her sweet juices. She was writhing now; her legs were moving as her hips twisted, and her legs squeezed my head. Then suddenly, she came, panting and gasping as she let out soft sounds of joy. I was just getting started. I continued to suck and flick, and in minutes she came again, this time with more force and louder gasps. I moved up her torso, kissing her exposed stomach and her breasts. I moved over her mouth and kissed her deeply; she returned the kiss and hugged my neck.

She whispered, "That was incredible, but I feel cheated. I want you."

I scooped her into my arms and carried her into the house and bedroom. I placed her on the bed and moved on top of her again, kissing her face. Suddenly, she pushed me over and straddled me. She tugged at the bottom of my shirt, loosening it from my shorts, and pulled it over my head. She began kissing my neck and my chest and then sucking and softly biting my nipples.

She moved down my body, unbuttoning my shorts before pulling down the zipper, sliding them down, and pulling off my shorts that were now streaked with pre-cum spots. She leaned over to straddle me, spinning and lifting her entire leg over my head, creating the 69 position and placing her luscious vaginal lips in front of my face.

I pulled her hips back once again, enjoying her delicious juices. As I did, I felt her mouth slide over my throbbing engorged cock. It was hard to concentrate on her pussy, and I tried to focus, but her movements over my cock and balls made it challenging. She was sucking and licking while she used her finger to rub my perineum. She worked with precision and tenderness, moaning and humming as she worked.

I momentarily lost my concentration on her pussy but recovered and pulled her hips to press her pussy tighter to my face. I was licking, flicking, and sucking every part of her from her anus to her clitoris. Juices were flowing and bathing my face and mouth in her sweet nectar.

I felt myself about to cum, and I pushed her pussy away from my face, silently announcing that fact. She sucked harder and pressed her pussy back against my face. Seconds later, I exploded; I shook uncontrollably and kept cumming and cumming as she continued to suck. Swallowing my ejaculation caused her to climax yet again. She took every ounce of my cum.

After a moment, she collapsed on me, rolled off to the side, turning as she did, nuzzling up to me, kissing me deeply, our tastes of the other's juices fresh on our lips and in our mouths. We lay there in silence, enjoying each other's naked bodies, cuddling and petting as we allowed ourselves to rejuvenate and bask in our respective bliss.

A while later, she stood, saying she would be back shortly, and padded off to the kitchen, her beautiful derriere swinging side to side atop her incredible legs. I got up and went into the bathroom. When I returned, Whitney was sitting on the bed with the sheet over her lap and a tray of dinner in the middle of the bed.

"Let's eat; I don't think the appetizer we just finished will give us the energy we need for dessert." With that, I walked to the bed and sat to eat, my mind reeling with thoughts of what was to come, or should I say cum!