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Archive name: traci.txt (MF)
Authors name: Heatheranne (hthranne@aol.com)
Story title : Traci's Long Weekend

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Traci's Long Weekend (MF)
by Heatheranne (hthranne@aol.com)

***

Traci is a girl who knows what she wants and has the 
right stuff to get it.

***

Frank's tongue stabbed frantically into Traci's mouth. He 
was a sloppy kisser, but Traci's attention wasn't on his 
saliva soaked lips and tongue. For the tenth time in the 
last five minutes Frank's fingers tentatively stroked her 
breast. Traci adroitly slid her arm inside his and pushed 
it away. 

Frank sat back in his car seat and whined, "Ah come on 
Traci, at least let me play with your tits."

"Why are you so fixated on my breasts?" she asked. 

"Hell girl, they're like a third person in the car with 
us. How can I avoid them?" Frank's hand moved to his 
crotch and he began to subtly stroke himself.  

Traci laughed at her date. Frank was rich and good 
looking but he acted like the perpetual sophomore that he 
actually was. He was twenty-six years old and still a 
college undergrad. Traci was eighteen and a couple of 
weeks shy of her high school graduation. It had been two 
years since she had dated a high school boy, but she 
doubted that they would act any less mature than Frank.

As he continued to grope his crotch Frank said, "I don't 
know why I bother with you. We've had what.five or six 
dates? I would have been sleeping with any other girl, 
instead of making out in a car."

"You're dating me because I'm drop dead gorgeous and you 
like to show me off to your friends." They had just 
finished a meal at a rather posh restaurant. Frank had 
made a production of introducing Traci to a number of 
people before they could be seated at their table. "And," 
she added for emphasis, "I'd bet anything that you tell 
your buddies that you're fucking my brains out." 

"Oh I'd never do that," said Frank just a second too late 
to sound convincing. 

Traci snorted and made a show of looking at her watch. "I 
have to be up early tomorrow. If you're going to jack 
off, then you better get to it."

Frank growled softly in frustration, but he quickly 
unzipped his pants. This was the way their dates went. He 
kept a painful hard-on from the time he left home to meet 
Traci until he finally relieved himself at the end of the 
evening as she watched. 

He couldn't help himself. Traci had the looks straight 
from his ultimate male fantasy. She had waist length, 
thick golden hair, perfectly smooth, tanned skin, a face 
that made men walk into walls and a body that caused car 
wrecks. She was nearly six feet tall with smoothly 
muscled limbs that hinted at her athleticism. And she had 
great tits. Tits that filled her chest and stood out 
proudly. 

Frank struggled with his underwear before he finally 
managed to get the head of his cock to barely peek out of 
his pants. He encircled his penis with his thumb and 
forefinger and began to beat his meat with a fast stroke. 
"How about a movie or something Friday night?" he asked.

Yeah, like I'd waste a Friday night with you, thought 
Traci. Frank was good for a slow weeknight, but she saved 
her weekends for men who - like Frank - were good looking 
and rich, but - unlike Frank - had dicks that were bigger 
than their thumbs. Besides, she wasn't going to be in 
town that night. "I'm going to be at a golf tournament 
the rest of the week."

Frank made a rude noise. "Are you still on that golf 
kick?" 

"Well, unlike you, my father doesn't have a ton of money 
to throw at me in order to keep me out of his hair."

Frank ignored her verbal jab. "At least all that walking 
keeps your legs in great shape," he said as he slid a 
hand onto her thigh.

Traci didn't bother to brush his hand away. She knew that 
it wouldn't be there long. Frank's other hand was a blur 
as he strained for his orgasm. "Oh yeah," he moaned. He 
threw his head back and a little burble of cum appeared 
on the head of his cock. It dripped down onto his fingers 
as Frank's breathing returned to normal. Twenty minutes 
later Traci was home. 

The next day Traci and her father drove three hours to 
the city of Ashton. Following the directions they had 
been given, they found themselves in an older and 
obviously very rich part of town. "Lot's of nice home's 
here," said her father as he peered out the windshield of 
their ten year old minivan. 

"Certainly are," said Traci. Most of the homes were two 
stories and sat behind walls or at the end of spacious 
lawns. They were on their way to the home of John Stone. 
He was one of the main sponsors of the golf tournament 
Traci was to play in. Traci's uncle had arranged for her 
to stay with the Stones. 

"Here's the address," said her father, pointing across 
the road. Traci made the turn onto a driveway that curved 
its way down a hill. They pulled to a stop in a parking 
area outside a three-car garage. As they stepped out of 
the minivan a man appeared through a door next to the 
garage. He was of medium height with thinning hair and 
dark eyes. He was wearing a pair of loose running shorts 
and a baggy tee shirt. 

"Hello," said the man, thrusting out his hand. "I'm John 
Stone."

"Hi," said Traci's father. He took John's hand. "I'm 
Samuel, and this is Traci."

"Hi there, Traci," said John as he shook her hand. The 
two men talked as she looked around. The Stone's house 
was built onto a hillside. The large house stretched over 
the garage and onto a sloping lawn. Most of the property 
was covered in towering oak trees and tasteful, small 
flower gardens. 

"Let's get your stuff inside," said John, and he grabbed 
her golf bag while her father carried her travel bag 
inside. They entered through the door beside the garage. 
"This is a sort of work and exercise room," John said as 
they entered. There were various tools on the walls and 
workbenches as well as one of those all-in-one weight 
machines that sat against one wall. They turned and went 
through another door that led to a hallway. 

"There's the stairs to the main floor," John pointed out. 
"Our den's in here and that's my office," he said, 
pointing to a couple of open doors. At the end of the 
hallway he opened a door and announced, "Here's our 
downstairs guest room. My wife is having the upstairs 
room redecorated so I hope you don't mind sharing. 
There's another girl coming - a friend of my son, 
Ritchie."

The room had two huge beds as well as chairs, a couch, a 
television and several other pieces of furniture. This 
single room was only slightly smaller than her father's 
entire house. "I'm sure it'll be fine," Traci said dryly. 

They went back to the parking area. Traci and her father 
said their goodbyes. He would be back late on Sunday, 
after the tournament. Traci kissed him goodbye and then 
waved until his van disappeared up the drive. "Traci, I 
was working out when you arrived," John said, "and I'd 
like to finish. Do whatever you'd like. I think my son 
has every video game ever invented in the den. He and his 
mother will be back later."

Traci thanked her host and went to her room. She put away 
her clothing and then decided to join Mr. Stone. She 
examined herself in the bedroom's full-length mirror. It 
wasn't too soon to make a good impression on Mr. Stone. 
He had been known to take a financial interest in the 
career of young, promising golfers. In fact, her uncle 
had told her that was the reason Mr. Stone helped to 
sponsor the tournament. So he could evaluate players 
liker her. 

Traci had pinned up her hair that morning and put on a 
former boyfriend's much too large warm up jacket. She had 
worn the jacket against an early morning chill. Another 
reason she was wearing the bulky jacket was because she 
knew that her father wouldn't approve of the top it was 
hiding. 

She pulled off the jacket and threw it on one of the 
beds, and then she straightened and pulled her top into 
place. It was a sleeveless, ribbed knit pullover with a 
turtleneck. The stretchy material was molded to her huge 
breasts and it left her flat tummy bare. She was showing 
a lot of tanned torso because her hip hugging shorts 
didn't start until well below her navel. 

Traci unpinned her hair. She shook it out and combed 
through her hair with her fingers. Her thick hair fell in 
soft, golden curls nearly to her waist. She took a couple 
of minutes to find her makeup and to touchup her eyes and 
lips. 

John was still at his work out. She could hear the 
weights clanking and thumping as he did some exercise or 
another. But when Traci entered the room, there was a 
clunk, a gasp and then several seconds of complete 
silence. John was not only staring at her, his eyes were 
practically falling out of his head. "Hi," said Traci. "I 
thought you might like some company." 

John had removed his shirt. His thick body was glistening 
with sweat on his hairy chest and stomach. "Oh, yeah 
sure," he said when he found his voice. "Uh.why don't you 
have a seat? How's your golf game coming along?"

Traci perched on a stool across from John. She talked 
about her golf game while he openly gawked at her body 
and went through his exercises. Traci didn't mind him 
looking. For most of her life males hadn't paid her any 
attention. She had grown up as an ugly duckling. Until 
high school she was always the tallest, heaviest and most 
awkward in her class. She had to endure more than her 
fair share of juvenile taunts and teasing. 

Her parents couldn't afford fashionable clothes or any 
extracurricular activities for their daughter. Then in 
junior high one of her teachers had urged her to join the 
girl's basketball team. Traci blossomed. She found that 
she had real athletic abilities. The pounds fell off her 
body, or became lean muscle. And at that point, as her 
mother used to say, her hormones exploded. Her body 
rounded out spectacularly. Boys whom she had known all 
her life suddenly became shy around her and the older, 
very popular young men who had never noticed her before, 
just as suddenly found reasons to talk to her. 

She discovered golf almost by accident. The same uncle 
who knew Mr. Stone, was a member of an exclusive country 
club. Several times a year her uncle would invite her 
father to play. Traci accompanied her father one day, and 
at her uncle's insistence she played along. To everyone's 
amazement she made a par on the first hole she had ever 
played. 

By the end of the round, Traci had played so well that 
her uncle was offering to pay for lessons and even a 
limited membership at the club. Traci accepted his offer 
and took up the game. The female members of the club 
weren't too happy with her presence, but their husbands 
were delighted to talk to, and to play golf with the 
beautiful young woman. The sons of those rich members 
practically knocked each other over trying to impress her 
with their expensive cars and generous allowances. 

"OK," said John, "last exercise." He sat on the weight-
machine's bench in a semi-reclining position with his 
legs splayed to either side. John grasped a couple of 
handles and lifted the weights to which they were 
attached by bringing the handles together in front of his 
chest. Traci could see up the legs of his loose fitting 
runner's shorts. 

In fact, she could see all the way up his shorts. 
Apparently Mr. Stone hadn't bothered with underwear. She 
could see his cock as it lay down one leg of his shorts. 
John slowly went through the repetitions of his exercise, 
his eyes still locked on her body. Traci watched his cock 
as it lengthened and grew thicker every time John pulled 
on the weights. Pretty soon it lifted the material of his 
shorts and the head poked its way into the open.

Their eyes met and Traci knew that he knew exactly what 
was happening. "I.uh hope you don't mind," said John. He 
gave up exercising and pulled back the leg of his shorts 
to reveal the full length of his big cock. "I bet a 
beautiful girl like you has seen more than a few of 
these."

Traci didn't even bother to act shocked or coy. She shook 
her head and said truthfully, "I don't think that I've 
ever seen one quite that long or thick."

"Oh yeah?" said John. The compliment seemed to make his 
dick swell even more. He began to stroke his cock with 
long strokes from groin to purple head. 

Traci knew the affect that she had on men. She liked the 
feeling of sexual power that it gave her. She pulled back 
her shoulders, thrusting her tits against the material of 
her top and shook her long blond hair back with a toss of 
her head. 

"Oh yeah, baby," whispered John. "You know what you've 
got." He began to fist his cock harder. A stream of 
precum ran over his fingers and made the big dick 
glisten. His hand made a wet smacking noise every time 
his hand hit the head of his cock. 

"I bet you've got a big load of cum in those big balls of 
yours," purred Traci as she teased him along. 

"You bet I do, baby." He doubled the speed of his hand on 
his cock. "I'm cumming, Traci. You're making me cum, 
baby." 

Traci saw a string of cum shoot out of the end his cock. 
It almost flew over the end of the bench. John stroked 
his cock frantically and more gobs of cum streaked from 
its dark purple head.

There was the sound of a car in the drive outside, and 
then the rumble of a garage door opening. "Oh shit," said 
John in a strangled voice. "It's my wife." Cum was still 
streaming from his cock. "I can't stop cumming." He 
looked at Traci, pleading with her with his eyes. 

Traci stood and went to the door that lead to the garage 
area. She didn't know Mrs. Stone, but she very much 
doubted that the woman would approve of her husband 
masturbating in front of a pretty, young houseguest. 
Traci walked into the garage just as the engine died and 
the passenger door of an upscale minivan opened. The 
woman who stepped out of the car was a little over five 
feet tall. She had a thick figure and short but stylish 
dark hair. Traci took the initiative and strode up to the 
woman. "Hi," she said as she stuck out her hand. "You 
must be Mrs. Stone. I'm Traci."

The woman gave Traci a limp handshake and a perfunctory 
smile that quickly faded. "Hello," she said. "Did my 
husband abandon you?"

"Oh he's around somewhere," said Traci. "I haven't been 
here long. I put up my clothes and took him up on his 
offer to look around." As Traci spoke they had moved to 
the rear of the minivan. Mrs. Stone opened the rear door 
to reveal a dozen bags of groceries. The van's driver, a 
good-looking young man, met the two women there. 

"This is my son, Ritchie," said Ms Stone. She picked up a 
bag of groceries and held it out for her son. However, 
Ritchie didn't have eyes for anything but Heather. Ms 
Stone shook the bag and snapped, "For goodness sake, 
Ritchie. Put your eyes back in your head."

"Sorry, Mom," mumbled Ritchie. He took the bag and two 
others without taking his eyes from Traci. Ritchie was 
taller than his father, which made him level with Traci. 
Like his father, he had dark hair and eyes. But where his 
father had extra pounds, Ritchie had the effortlessly 
lean body of a teenager.  

From the open garage door came the sound of steps and Mr. 
Stone appeared in the door. "There you are," he said in a 
loud voice. "I thought I heard you drive up." 

John had managed to put on a fresh shirt and maybe some 
underwear. He certainly didn't look as if he had just 
unloaded about a cup of milky cum in the next room. "Holy 
cow," he said looking at all the bags of food. "You 
bought enough to feed an army."

"Or three teenagers for three days," said Mrs. Stone as 
she loaded her husbands arms. 

Traci pitched in and they managed to get all the food 
upstairs and into the kitchen in one trip. 

Dinner was delayed until Ritchie's friend arrived. Her 
name was Paula. She was about five and half feet tall 
with reddish brown hair and big brown eyes. Traci 
instantly disliked the girl. She was going to be Traci's 
main rival in the golf tournament. In addition, Paula 
acted as if she was joined at the hip to Ritchie, and she 
gushed at everything Mr. and Ms Stone had to say while 
she completely ignored Traci.

After the late dinner the teens retired to the den. Paula 
and Ritchie made Traci feel like a fifth wheel, but she 
perversely refused to leave them alone. It wasn't long 
before Mr. Stone joined them. He may have been the oldest 
person in the room, but he was certainly the youngest at 
heart. He took charge and organized a series of video 
games. Then he took absolute delight in winning most of 
them. But when midnight came around, he turned into a 
father once more and sent everyone off to bed. Friday, he 
declared, was going to be a long day.

Traci put on a pair of light cotton sleep pants and bra. 
Paula disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few 
minutes later wearing a dark gold silk sleep shirt that 
barely covered her essential parts. Well, Traci thought, 
I can't fault the girl for having money and good taste in 
clothes. The two teens turned out the lights and went to 
bed with barely a word spoken between them.

Traci tossed and turned. She was in a strange bed in a 
strange house with unfamiliar sounds. Finally, she tried 
to will herself to sleep by breathing deeply and 
concentrating on relaxing her muscles. She thought that 
she may have drifted off when she heard Paula get up. 
"Traci?" she whispered softly from the foot of Traci's 
bed. 

She's not trying to wake me, thought Traci behind closed 
eyelids. She's trying to see if I'm asleep. Traci lay 
still and continued to take deep, regular breaths. In a 
second she heard Paula crossing the room and the sound of 
the door to the hallway opening and closing. 

Traci's eyes flipped opened. Now she was wide-awake and 
very curious about Paula. She slipped out of bed and went 
to the door. She peered down the long hallway just in 
time to see Paula enter the workshop. Traci walked 
quickly to that door and slowly opened it. The workroom 
was dark, but she could see light coming from under the 
door to the garage. She crossed the room and very slowly 
opened the door just enough to peek inside.

Paula and Ritchie were wrapped around one anther, kissing 
furiously. He was wearing nothing but a pair of those 
boxer shorts that had a wide elastic waistband. When they 
stopped for air Ritchie said, "I was beginning to wonder 
if you were coming."

"I had to wait until that giant Barbie doll went to 
sleep."

Ritchie laughed. "She's not all that big."

"Her tits alone weigh more than I do, and don't tell me 
that you didn't notice." 

Ritchie was no fool. He shook his head and said, "I don't 
notice anything when you're around."

"Good answer," she murmured, and they began to kiss once 
more like the two horny teenagers that they were. 
Ritchie's hands slid under her sleep shirt and cupped her 
ass. He pulled her even closer and ground his hips 
against hers. After a long, hot minute of tonguing one 
another they separated, and Ritchie opened the side door 
of the minivan. They took a seat on one of the rear bench 
seats and resumed their play. 

Ritchie's hands were all over Paula. He slid the silk 
material of her sleep shirt all over her tits. Then he 
undid the top buttons and pulled her breasts into the 
open so he could fondle and softly pinch her nipples. 
When his hand moved lower, Paula eagerly opened her legs 
and his fingers stole into her pussy. 

Paula moaned softly. "That's it, baby. Finger my pussy. 
Do it faster." 

Ritchie's hand moved faster and harder until a quick 
slapping sound filled the garage. Paula's hips rose and 
fell and moved in little circles. "I'm cumming," she 
whispered. She stuck the tip of a finger in her mouth and 
then she gave a little whining gasp as her hips thrust 
into the air and quivered. 

Paula gave Ritchie a sloppy wet kiss as she pulled his 
cock from his shorts. She slid down in the seat until her 
head was level with the head of his pulsing cock. Paula 
kissed and tongued Ritchie's dick just as she had kissed 
and tongued his mouth a few seconds before. 

"Suck on it, please Paula," begged Ritchie. She just 
looked up and smiled as she licked the precum that was 
flowing from the slit in his cock head. After a minute 
though, she took pity on the boy and slipped her lips 
over his leaking cock. She sucked on the head while her 
hand stroked the turgid shaft. 

Traci watched all the action from the next room. 
Ritchie's cock wasn't quite as big as his father's, but 
it looked fantastic against his lean, muscled torso. 
She'd better hurry and get that thing in her pussy, Traci 
thought. He can't last much longer. Just then Paula 
removed her mouth from Ritchie's dick. Her hand flashed 
up and down the length his cock. Ritchie bit his lower 
lip and a stream of cum shot from his cock straight up in 
the air. It landed on Paula's hand and added to his 
natural lubrication. It wasn't really needed though, 
Ritchie's cock poured out shot after shot of milky semen. 
It flowed over her hand and his thighs until it was 
running onto the leather seats. 

Unseen, Traci headed back to her bed. That Ritchie was 
pretty cute and certainly well hung. She caressed her 
pussy through her sleep pants. She considered trying to 
get herself off for a quickie, after all she hadn't been 
laid in a week. But then she heard the door to the room 
open as Paula retuned. Traci turned on her side and took 
a long breath; maybe she would just wait. Maybe she could 
arrange to make Ritchie available to satisfy her hungry 
pussy later. 

The following morning everyone had a breakfast of toast, 
cereal and coffee. Afterwards, Paula ducked into the 
bathroom and took her own sweet time leaving. By the time 
Paula left for the golf course in her car, Traci had to 
hurry through her own morning routine. Ritchie had left 
for his summer job in his father's Mercedes. Ritchie's 
own car was in the shop. Traci and the Jones would be 
left to travel to the course together in the family van. 

Traci was standing in the guest room in her bra and 
panties when there was a tap at the door and Mr. Stone 
stepped in without an invitation. He eagerly took in the 
sight of Traci's hot body. She didn't even bother to 
cover herself. 

"Hi Traci," John said as he stopped just inside the door. 

"Something wrong?" asked Traci.

"We're running a little late. I just came by to see if 
you were ready." John began to rub at the front of his 
pants. There was a distinct bulge there. He unzipped his 
pants and pulled his substantial cock into the open. "I.I 
hope you don't mind," he panted. John began to stroke his 
cock with a steady beat. 

"Please yourself," Traci said with a smile. "I won't be 
long." She took a seat at a vanity that was against the 
wall in the center of the room. She brushed her long hair 
back behind her shoulders and then gathered it in both 
hands. Using a couple of decorative elastic bands she 
went through the practiced moves that would gather her 
hair into a sassy ponytail that would keep her hair out 
of the way as she swung her clubs. Fooling with her hair 
that way pulled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts 
up and out.  

"Mmm... Traci, you look so sexy doing that." John began 
to beat his meat even faster. "Those panties on the bed, 
can I see those?" 

Traci picked up the panties, wadded them into a ball and 
threw them across the room. John caught them out of the 
air and clamped the underwear to his face. "Nothing like 
the smell of a sexy pussy," he said excitedly. Then he 
wrapped the slick nylon material around his cock and 
resumed masturbating as he gazed at the gorgeous teen 
beauty.

Traci finished dressing. She had just slipped into her 
shoes when John gasped, "I'm going to cum, baby. I'm 
going to shoot my wad into your sweet panties." He thrust 
his hips out and Traci could hear the liquid sounds as 
his big dick shot wad after wad of hot semen into the 
underwear. Exhausted, John leaned against the bedroom 
wall, his wilting dick hanging from the fly in his pants. 

Traci walked up. "I'm ready to go now," she said as if 
John had only been standing there, waiting patiently.

John held out the ball of cum soaked panties. "What do I 
do with these?" he asked. 

Traci shrugged. "I don't care, they're Paula's." She 
passed him and went out the door.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully for Traci. 
She played a practice round at the course with some other 
girls who were also in the tournament. After a box lunch 
she participated in a one round preliminary tournament 
with the lady members of the country club. She was paired 
with a woman in her seventies named Ellen. Ellen was 
dressed in a matching outfit based on a pink floral 
pattern. She had maroon shoes, which perfectly matched 
her golf glove and even her golf bag. Ellen was sweet and 
a joy as a partner. However, the other pairing in their 
foursome was a cheerless old biddy named Barbara and even 
worse, her partner was Paula. 

Paula's policy of not speaking to Traci apparently didn't 
extend to the golf course. She was one of those players 
who liked to rile their opponent with little digs about 
their play. Also, she just happened to cough or drop a 
club or make some sort of sound while Tracy was trying to 
swing. Tracy knew what she was doing but that didn't stop 
Paula from getting under her skin. On one hole, after 
severely over swinging, and nearly knocking the ball 
sideways into the next zip code, Traci slammed her club 
back into her bag and threw herself into the golf cart. 

Ellen patted her arm and said, "Now dear, don't let that 
shitty little bitch upset you. You're twice the player 
she is."

Traci was amazed that the sweet little old lady even knew 
those words, much less that she would utter them out 
loud. She looked at Ellen in astonishment and then 
laughed. "Actually I'm about four times the player she 
is. Thanks for reminding me, Ellen." 

Traci and Ellen didn't win the tournament. Barbara, who 
had a suspiciously high handicap, and Paula took the 
honors. There was a dinner and an awards ceremony where 
Paula looked terribly smug as she accepted her trophy. 
Traci had dinner with Ellen and Ellen's friends. They 
were nice but their dinner conversation centered mostly 
on children, grandchildren and home projects. Subjects 
that were about to bore Traci to tears when she felt a 
tap on her shoulder and turned to see Ritchie standing 
behind her. "Hi, can you do me a favor?" he asked.

"What's that?" 

"Mom wants me to get something out of the minivan. Can 
you show me where it's parked?" 

"Sure, I guess so," said Traci. She excused herself from 
Helen and friends and followed Ritchie out of the 
clubhouse. She led the way through the densely packed 
parking lot. 

"Did you come by to see Paula?" she asked, as they 
stopped at the Stone's car.

"Uh, not really," said Ritchie hesitantly. "Mom said that 
if I wanted dinner, then I had to eat at the club." They 
stopped beside the car and he opened the door and began 
looking through the numerous storage areas of the 
minivan. 

"What are you looking for?"

"Her.uh.cell phone," he said, with his head practically 
buried in a large empty bin.

"Oh," said Traci. "I thought I saw her using it earlier 
this evening."

Ritchie backed out of the van. His face was turning red. 
"I guess she forgot that she had it."

"Either that, or you just made the whole thing up in 
order to get me out here alone," Traci said with a little 
smile.

They had to stand so close to one another between the 
parked cars that they were practically touching. Ritchie 
gave her a cute boyish grin and said, "Yeah, maybe." 
Traci just stood there. Her face inches from his. Ritchie 
leaned forward, and when she didn't back away, he kissed 
her firmly on the lips. 

Not a bad kisser, thought Traci. She returned the kiss 
and in seconds their tongues were thrashing around in 
each other's mouths. Ritchie put his hands on her waist 
and then he began to move them lower as the kiss went on. 
He was about to grab her ass when Traci put her hands on 
his forearms and pushed him away. "Now what if your 
friend Paula saw us making out in the parking lot," she 
teased him.

Ritchie looked like a little boy who has just had his 
candy taken away. He shrugged. "We're not hooked up."

"You sure looked hooked up last night when she was giving 
you an A-class blow job," she said.

"You watched us?"

"I saw part of it," lied Traci. She didn't want to admit 
that she had watched until the cum spewing end. 

Ritchie blushed bright red once more, but he recovered 
quickly enough. "You should have joined us."

Traci ran a finger along his jaw and across his lips as 
she looked into his eyes. "I don't share," she said as 
she walked away. 

That evening everyone headed for their bedrooms once they 
returned to the Stone's home. It had indeed been a long 
day. Traci got into the guest bathroom first and she 
pretended to be fast asleep when Paula finished taking 
her turn. Once again, Paula checked to see if Traci was 
awake, and once again Traci feigned sleep. 

When Paula left the bedroom, Traci arose and slipped on a 
dark blue terrycloth bathrobe that fell to mid-thigh. She 
strode down the hall and passed through the workroom. She 
quietly opened the door to the garage. Just as they had 
been the previous night, Paula and Ritchie were locking 
lips next to the minivan. Traci quietly entered the room 
and stepped behind Paula. Ritchie must have sensed her 
movements because he opened his eyes.

Traci gave the teen a sensuous smile and let the front of 
her robe fall open. Her breasts proudly thrust into the 
open, standing out resolutely in the evening air. Her 
blonde hair shimmered against the dark blue robe. 

Robbie didn't break off his kiss with Paula, but his eyes 
flew wide open and he seemed to lose interest in her lips 
and writhing body. Traci slipped out of her robe and hung 
it on a convenient nail. She took one of Ritchie's arms 
and placed it on her hip. Ritchie flowed smoothly into 
her arms. Traci wrapped her arms around his neck and 
pillowed her luscious tits against his chest.

"What the hell?" squeaked an outraged Paula. She glared 
at the couple as Traci and Ritchie came together. Well, 
two could play at that game, she thought. She walked 
behind Ritchie and ran her hands along Ritchie's 
shoulders. She tried to regain his attention by frenching 
him in the ear. But Ritchie didn't seem to hear or feel a 
thing, at least not from Paula. He buried his tongue in 
Traci's mouth, while his hands alternated between her 
fantastic tits and her sculpted ass. Traci heard Paula 
whine Ritchie's name a few times, and then she heard the 
door to the garage slam as Paula left. 

Ritchie pushed his shorts to the floor. His cock was rock 
hard and it prodded at her tummy as if it were begging 
for her pussy. And Traci was eager to have it. She was 
feeling hot as hell after her success at forcing Paula 
out of the picture. "We don't have to stand here all 
night, do we?" she whispered to Ritchie as he kissed her 
tits.

"Oh, shit no," he said eagerly. He opened the sliding 
door of the van and hopped inside. His cock stuck 
straight up from his groin, precum drooling from the tip. 
Traci didn't waste any time. She straddled Ritchie's lap 
and in one move stuffed the big throbbing member into her 
dripping pussy. She took the whole thing in and ground 
her clit against his sparse pubic hair. Traci swirled her 
hips on Ritchie's and in less than a minute she had her 
first orgasm. 

She lifted her weight off Ritchie's hips and moaned, 
"Pump me hard with that big dick."

"Oh yeah," panted Ritchie. His hips thrust upward as he 
began to fuck her pussy wildly. Traci came again and 
again. When she felt Ritchie's cock begin to swell to a 
climax, she would lower her full weight back onto his 
hips and practically smother him with her tits. Then 
Traci would finger her clit while he cooled off. She had 
lost count of her orgasms when she felt Ritchie's cock 
finally shoot off. The hot cum washed out of her pussy 
and coated Ritchie's hips and dripped onto the car seat.

Traci pushed herself off Ritchie's sweaty body. His limp 
dick slid out of her pussy and fell onto his thigh with a 
splat. She retrieved her robe and put it on. She swept 
her golden hair over the collar of the robe and knotted 
the sash. She looked over at an exhausted Ritchie just in 
time to see a last glob of semen drip out of his wilted 
cock and drip onto the car seat. "You better clean that 
up," she said. "I bet your mom's never seen a cummy seat 
cover in her life."

Traci felt freshly fucked and feisty. She stalked back 
down the hallway to her bedroom. Paula had better not 
give me any crap over Ritchie, she thought. Traci knew 
that she outweighed Paula by at least twenty pounds and 
she was ready to land every ounce of it on the tip of 
Paula's nose. 

Traci threw open the door and swept into the room. There 
was no Paula. In fact there was no sign of Paula, no 
clothes or anything. Traci took a minute to see if her 
car was in the parking area outside the garage, but it 
was gone. After cleaning up, Traci fell into bed with a 
self-satisfied smile on her face. She was asleep in 
seconds. 

At the breakfast table the next morning, Mrs. Stone 
looked puzzled. "She just up and left with no reason?" 
she asked Traci.

Traci shrugged expressively, "I don't know. She wasn't 
very friendly, she hardly spoke to me.

"Did you do something?" she shot at Ritchie. 

His look of wide-eyed innocence was comical. "Me?" he 
squeaked. "Why is it my fault?"

"Because you're a horny little..."

"Well now," interrupted Mr. Stone in a booming voice. 
Clearly, he wanted to steer the breakfast conversation 
away from sex. "She's gone, but she's a big girl. We can 
check on her at the tournament. Now what's everyone's 
schedule today?" It turned out that Ritchie needed a car 
for his job, and that Mr. and Mrs. Stone needed to be at 
the tournament early. 

"I don't tee off until one," said Traci. "I'd rather not 
go this early."

"I'll be glad to come back for you," said Mr. Stone a bit 
too helpfully. 

"We'll send someone," said Mrs. Stone. 

Traci spent the morning stretching and doing some light 
exercises. She showered and dressed and was waiting for 
her ride when the phone rang. 

"Traci, this is Mr. Stone," said the voice on the line. 
"Listen, we've had a big thunderstorm at the course. All 
of the tee times have been set back two hours."

"Oh, OK. Just don't forget to pick me up."

"My wife said that she would find someone," he said with 
disappointment in his voice. "If they don't show up, 
here's my cell number." He gave her the number and they 
said goodbye.

A few minutes later, Traci heard a car in the drive. She 
went to a window and looked out. A late model BMW stopped 
in the drive. A young man got out of the car. He was 
tall, with the broad chest and thick shoulders of a 
football player or bodybuilder. Not exactly the most 
handsome guy I've ever seen, thought Traci. But he did 
have an open, honest face. 

Traci opened the door when he knocked. "Hi," he said with 
a broad smile. "You must be Traci."

"That's right."

"I'm Russ. Mrs. Stone said that you needed a ride to the 
course." 

"Hey," said Traci. "Come on in." Russ filled the 
doorframe as he walked into the house. "Mr. Stone called 
and said that all the tee times had been delayed for two 
hours because of a storm."

"Oh yeah, it was raining when I left," said Russ. "Uh, I 
guess I could come back in a couple of hours," he said 
with a question in his voice. 

"You could hang out here, if you want," said Traci as if 
it didn't matter to her. The way his eyes kept moving 
from her boobs to her eyes and back, she wasn't afraid 
that he would leave.

"OK," said Russ. "I'll just stick around then. That'll 
get me out of work too." 

"What do you do?" Traci asked. 

"It's a summer job at the club, parking golf carts, 
cleaning clubs, that sort of stuff."

"It must pay well; I saw your car."

Russ laughed. "My family is pretty well off, but my 
father believes that kind of work builds character. And 
believe me, there are plenty of members over there who 
love to order me around. But I do get to play a lot of 
golf." The two teens had moved to the kitchen where they 
got sodas. 

"Let's go down to the den," said Traci. 

"Hey, look at all the games," said Russ as they entered 
the room. He picked up a handful of game disks and sorted 
through them. "Want to play something?"

"Sure," said Traci. "Just don't make it a golf game. I 
suck at those."

Russ chuckled as he picked a disk and loaded it in the 
game console. "It's a racing game," he said as he settled 
on the couch close enough to touch Traci at the shoulder 
and thigh and handed her one of the game controllers. The 
television screen was split in half, showing each player 
and their respective cars. The race started and Traci 
immediately ran her car into a wall. She squealed and 
turned her car just in time to wreck Russ's car as it 
came by. They laughed and the rest of the race went that 
way with the players trying to run another off the road. 
They also pushed and elbowed one another in an effort to 
ruin what little control the other player had. 

After winning a race each, Russ announced, "OK, let's do 
one more, but let's put a little bet on it."

"What kink of bet?" Traci asked.

"Let's see. If I win I get a kiss," said Russ with a 
charming smile. 

"And if I win?"

"Whatever you want," said Russ. 

Traci thought for a second. "If I win, then you have to 
be my caddy today."

"Let's see, a little kiss from you versus carrying a golf 
bag around in the heat and humidity for four or five 
hours." Russ rubbed his chin as if he was in deep 
thought. "OK, that sounds fair to me."

The race began and Traci did better, but she still spent 
a lot time scraping walls and bouncing along curbs. Russ, 
on the other hand, played like an expert. He stayed out 
of trouble and won easily. "I think I was set up," said 
Traci sounding suspicious as she threw down her 
controller. 

"I just got lucky," said Russ with a grin. "Now don't be 
a poor sport about our bet." 

Traci screwed her eyes shut, thrust her face forward and 
puckered her lips like a five year old who was being 
forced to kiss a nasty old boy. Russ wasn't put off in 
the least. His kiss was warm and moist and firm. And when 
he didn't break it off, Traci relaxed and kissed him 
back. His lips parted and Traci felt his tongue playing 
on her lips. She opened her mouth and soon they were 
frenching each other wildly. 

Russ couldn't believe his luck. This girl was smart, 
funny, an athlete, and she had an absolutely gorgeous 
body that had his cock aching for action. She wasn't a 
bad kisser either. Her tongue writhed in mouth like it 
had a life of its own. Her left tit felt like a pillow 
pressed against his arm. He knew it was too much, too 
soon, but he just had to caress those magnificent tits. 
He gently put a hand on her breast. Traci started and 
with a jerk her hand was on his wrist. But she didn't 
pull his hand away. She actually pulled it hard to her 
tit and rubbed his palm on her nipple.

Traci was really getting turned on. Usually she teased 
and toyed with even the most desirable guys for a few 
dates before they got their tongue in her mouth and their 
hands on her boobs. Maybe it was the tension of the golf 
match, or maybe she was just horny, but she could feel 
her pussy gush after making out with Russ for only a few 
minutes. 

Oh shit, the golf match - what time was it? Traci 
reluctantly broke off their kiss and checked her watch. 
Russ saw what she was doing and asked, "Not time to go, 
is it?"

"Not even close," said Traci with a sexy smile. 

Russ pulled her around until his leg slipped between her 
smooth thighs and her huge breasts billowed on the hard 
muscles of his chest. He pulled her knit shirt out of her 
shorts and ran his hands all over the smooth skin of her 
back.

Traci felt Russ's hands slip under her sports-bra. He 
slid the stretchy material over her breasts and then his 
hands were all over her exposed tits. She could feel a 
hard band of thigh muscle right under her pussy and she 
unconsciously began to tickle her clit by rocking back 
and forth. Between the feel of his hands and tongue and 
the pressure on her pussy, Traci had a mild orgasm right 
there. 

"Oh baby, if you keep that up, I'm gonna' cream in my 
pants," groaned Russ.

Traci hesitated. What she thought was a long bulge of 
thigh muscle couldn't be his cock, could it? That seemed 
impossible. Of course there was one way to find out. "We 
wouldn't want you mess up those nice khakis," she said as 
she rolled out of his grasp. But then she immediately 
grabbed his belt and began to tug. 

Russ eagerly helped and in a few seconds his pants and 
shorts were tangled around his ankles and Traci was 
starring at the biggest cock she had ever seen. It jutted 
from Russ's crotch as straight as but much longer than a 
ruler. It occurred to Traci that if she could somehow 
combine Mr. Stone and Ritchie's cocks then she might have 
the equal of Russ's equipment.

"I'm.uh.kind of blessed in the penis department," said 
Chris.

"Blessed is a hell of an understatement," said Traci. She 
stood and gaped at the pole of flesh that stood out of 
Russ's crotch. It quivered in the air in time with his 
rapid heartbeat and a steady stream of precum leaked from 
the tip.

"It's kind of intimidating I know," said Russ. He looked 
up at Traci, afraid that she might run away. "But really 
it's not." His voice trailed off as he watched Traci 
practically rip off her clothes. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," said Traci with a 
sensuous smile. In a few seconds she was naked and her 
fantastic body was open to Russ's gaze. He couldn't 
believe it when she threw a leg over his hips, and 
without hesitation grabbed his club liked cock and 
stuffed its swollen head into her eager pussy. "Oh wow," 
oozed Traci as the mass of hot flesh filled her. 

Russ couldn't believe it. Traci was practically raping 
him. Her big, firm tits brushed across his chest. Her 
blonde hair hid and then revealed her beautiful face as 
she tossed her head about in sexual pleasure. The muscles 
in her pussy rippled along the length of his cock. He'd 
fucked more than his fair share of girls, but he'd never 
had one to take charge like her.

"Oh baby," he said in a strangled voice, "if you keep 
going like that I'm going to explode." But she didn't 
seem to hear. Traci's head was thrown back and her face 
had that dreamy look of a woman who was cumming 
constantly and didn't care about anything but sustaining 
that glorious feeling. 

Russ couldn't take it anymore. He shot off like it was 
his first orgasm in a month. It felt like every muscle in 
his body was trying to pump out his hot cum, and it 
seemed to go on forever. Finally, his big dick stopped 
shuddering and he felt Traci's pussy loosen its strangle 
hold. He watched through lidded eyes as she picked up her 
clothes and disappeared from the den. 

It seemed like only a moment had passed when she 
reappeared through the den's doorway. He must have passed 
out. Traci was dressed once more, and she looked fresh as 
a daisy. "Hey, let's go," she said. "I need to loosen up 
before my tee time." 

Traci's first round of the tournament went well. Paula 
didn't come anywhere near her, physically or score wise. 
Traci finished six strokes ahead of her nearest 
competitor. She had just finished turning in her score at 
the end of the round when Mr. Stone came up to her. "Hey, 
great round," he said in congratulations. "There's a 
local television crew here. They were wondering if you 
could do a little interview for their sports news 
segment." 

"Sure," said Traci, "no problem." She removed the visor 
that she had worn to keep the sun off her face, and 
combed out her hair with her fingers until it was falling 
across her tanned shoulders. She straightened and brushed 
at her clothing and then approached the news crew. She 
had seen numerous lady golfers give interviews, and most 
of the women had looked expressionless and talked in a 
monotone. She certainly didn't want to look like them. 
Traci smiled and laughed and teased the camera. She gave 
quick, intelligent answers to the interviewer. As a 
result, they kept Traci on camera far longer than anyone 
else at the tournament.

Traci and the Stones had a late dinner at the club. When 
they returned home, Traci went to her room and took a 
long shower. She put on a sleep shirt that looked like a 
football jersey. It came down to mid-thigh and its 
plunging v-neck showed off her deep cleavage. She was 
sitting up in bed watching TV when there was a soft knock 
at her door and Ritchie stepped quickly into her room. He 
locked the door and then turned. He smiled weakly as he 
walked toward Traci. 

"Come in," she said sardonically. 

"Oh, sorry," he answered, seeing that she wasn't pleased 
with his sudden appearance. "This room is supposed to be 
out of bounds for me while you're here, and Dad is just 
down the hall in his office."

"So why did you risk your no doubt hefty allowance by 
coming here?" 

Ritchie looked at once hopeful and nervous. "Uh.I thought 
we might hang out, you know."

"You mean you've had a hard on all day and you were 
hoping you could get it in my hot pussy." 

Ritchie gave her a little grin and said, "Yeah, something 
like that."

Traci sighed. Since she had stolen Ritchie away from 
Paula, he wasn't quite as attractive. And besides, her 
fuck with Russ that morning was plenty for one day. 
"Look, Ritchie..." she began, but then someone rapped and 
tried to turn the knob on her locked door.

"Traci? Are you awake?" Mr. Stone called from the 
hallway. 

Ritchie was frantically waving his hands in warning, but 
Traci ignored him and said loudly, "Just a minute." 

She got off the bed and started to walk to the door. 
"What do I do?" asked Ritchie.

"I don't care," said Traci. "Go hide in the bathroom if 
you want to." She finished her trip to the door and 
opened it. 

"Hi," said Mr. Stone as he stepped inside. "Can we talk 
for a minute?"

"Sure," said Traci. She went back to her bed to resume 
her sitting position against a couple of pillows. But 
when she tried to slip her legs under the covers, her 
feet hit something warm and soft. Ritchie hadn't hidden 
in the bathroom; he'd dived under the blankets and 
comforter of Traci's bed. Fortunately, the bed was huge 
and the covers were so messed that no one could tell he 
was there. Traci had to settle for leaving her knees 
bent, tenting the covers in front of her. 

Mr. Stone was holding some papers in his hand. "Boy, you 
sure look sexy in that football jersey thing," he said as 
he crossed the room. He unzipped his pants and pulled out 
his thoroughly hard cock with one hand. "I just can't get 
over those tits of yours and all that blonde hair," he 
said, jacking his hand slowly along the length of his 
long cock. 

Traci felt the bed shake and then something warm and wet 
licked her leg. Ritchie was licking and kissing the 
inside of her thigh. "Did you want something, Mr. Stone?" 
she asked a bit harshly. "Or did you just want to 
masturbate in front of me again?"

"Oh yes," he said, jerking his eyes form her cleavage to 
the papers in his hand. "I've been on the phone with some 
of my partners. They like the way you play golf and they 
especially liked the way you handled that TV interview. 
If it's possible, you may be even sexier on the screen."

"Thanks," said Traci hesitantly. Ritchie's tongue and 
lips were a big distraction. 

"So," said Mr. Stone, still beating his meat, "we are 
prepared to offer you a contract to back your golfing 
career."

"What kind of contract?" asked Traci. Things were getting 
interesting. 

"We'll give you a fifty thousand dollar signing bonus for 
starters," he said, glancing at the paper in his hand. 
"Then we'll pay for all your living expenses and lessons 
and equipment and so forth. Any winnings you make will go 
to pay that back of course, plus a reasonable percentage. 
My partners and I will act as your manager and keep 
twenty percent of your endorsements. We think there will 
be a lot of those."

"Can I see those notes?" she asked.

Mr. Stone stepped closer and handed her the papers. Traci 
studied them for a minute and then looked up. "Why don't 
we negotiate?" she said as she pushed his hand away from 
his throbbing, leaking cock and replaced it with her own 
slender fingers. 

"What would you like?" Mr. Stone asked in a hoarse 
whisper. 

"This signing bonus needs to be a salary instead," she 
said as she began to move her hand along Mr. Stone's 
cock.

"Oh Traci, I don't know." He began to sway his hips in 
time with her hand. 

"And I get to keep half my winnings until your guys are 
paid back and then I keep all of them."

"I don't think they'll go for it Traci. How about twenty 
thousand a year, after all we're paying your expenses." 
His cock throbbed and jerked in her hot hand. 

"How about sixty thousand a year," retorted Traci. "I 
could just go home and pick from a dozen college 
scholarships."

"That's not fair negotiating," he complained.

Traci smiled up at him and said, "No, this isn't fair 
negotiating." And with that she slid her pouting lips 
over the head of his cock. At the same moment, Ritchie 
decided to stick his tongue as far into Traci's pussy as 
he could get it. 

Traci gasped, but Mr. Stone didn't notice because his 
ears were full oh his own moans as she sucked on his 
swollen cock head. Traci tickled, teased and sucked on 
his cock until he thought that he would go crazy. Then 
just as suddenly as she had started her blowjob she 
stopped and looked up him expectantly. "Don't stop, 
honey," he pleaded. "I'll try to get you what you want, 
really I will." Traci gave his stone hard cock one more 
little lick and then she stopped once again. Mr. Stone 
groaned in sexual agony. "OK, OK I'll guarantee it, 
please." He was practically whining.

Traci let herself go. She shoved her pussy into Ritchie's 
face and sucked on Mr. Stone's cock like a vacuum pump 
when she started to orgasm. She swallowed shot after 
creamy shot of cum as her orgasm raged through her pussy. 

Mr. Stone staggered back from the bed. His dick rolled to 
one side and flopped over in surrender. "Shit Traci," he 
sighed, "an orgasm hasn't cost me that much money since 
my honeymoon." He stuffed his wilted penis back into his 
pants. "But it was worth every penny of it." Mr. Stone 
wobbled a bit as he left the room. 

Traci barely heard him. Ritchie had started something and 
she was going make him stick to it. She wrapped her legs 
around his head and rode him to another dozen orgasms, 
despite his efforts to free himself. Finally, Ritchie was 
able to wiggle his way free. He was trying to catch his 
breath when Traci grabbed his collar forced him up the 
bed.

"I'm not through," she growled. "Now, fuck me hard." 

Ritchie rushed to obey. In a second he was between her 
legs and plunging his achingly hard cock into her sloppy 
wet pussy. His cock didn't fill Traci nearly as well as 
Russ's, but it was good enough to give her another dozen 
orgasms before Ritchie shot his load.

The next morning at breakfast Ritchie and Mr. Stone ate 
in silence avoiding eye contact with Traci. Mrs. Stone 
kept up a running tirade against some perceived slight 
she had suffered at the hands of one of the other lady 
club members. Traci felt obliged to nod and make 
agreeable sounds from time to time. At the end of the 
meal the Stones were off once again. Mrs. Stone promised 
that she would send someone for Traci once again since 
she had another late tee time. 

Traci took her morning coffee to the den and sipped as 
she watched a morning news show. After the news, she 
flipped through the channels for a while until she 
settled on an old movie staring Cary Grant. She went 
through a series of stretches and light exercises as the 
movie ran to its conclusion. Traci went to her room to 
clean up. She had just stepped into the shower when she 
heard the thump of a door closing from somewhere in the 
house and then Russ's voice calling out, "Hello." 

"Hi," yelled Traci. "I'm in the shower." 

In a few seconds he was speaking again, but this time he 
was at her bathroom door. "Hi," he said. "Do you need 
someone to watch your back?"

"Do you know of anyone?" she teased. 

Traci heard some noises from outside the shower and then 
the shower door opened. Russ's long, thick cock preceded 
him inside. He stood there with a helpful expression on 
his face and waving his hand above his head. "Me, me!" he 
said, "I can wash your back." 

Traci laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their 
wide-open mouths met and their tongues began to play. 
Traci rubbed the hard nipples of her huge breasts against 
the light hair of his chest, while Russ ground his cock 
on her flat tummy. His hands worked their way down her 
back and onto her ass. After stroking her ass with his 
fingertips he reached around and slipped a finger into 
her wet pussy. 

Traci leaned into his hand. She rested her head on his 
shoulder and whispered, "Yeah baby, that's it, make me 
cum." Russ slapped his fingers at her pussy and clit 
until he felt her shiver in orgasm. "That was nice," she 
said as she slipped out of his embrace. She turned and 
steadied herself against the shower wall with her hands. 
Traci looked over her shoulder and smiled at him as she 
swished her ass provocatively.

"Oh yeah," growled Russ. He spread his legs and forced 
his rock hard cock down to the level of Traci's pussy. He 
nestled the dripping head of his cock in her pussy lips 
and then he gave a firm, long push with his hips. Traci's 
hot pussy walls wrapped around him like a glove. He began 
to fuck her with a steady stroke. Almost immediately, 
Traci began to cum. Her vaginal muscles trembled along 
the length of his cock and he couldn't stand it. He 
stroked her for a couple of minutes and then his cock 
blasted out a torrent of cum. It squished out of her 
pussy in milky globs that washed down the drain with the 
shower water.

Traci straightened up and turned. "Well, that could have 
lasted longer," she said as she watched Russ's cock droop 
southward. 

"I noticed that you came a few times," Chris said, 
feeling much unappreciated. 

"Yes, but only a few. Here's a sponge, you can really 
wash my back."

Russ took the sponge and did her back. Then she had him 
shampoo and work conditioner into her long hair. They 
stepped from the shower and dried one another with soft 
bath towels. Traci had him comb out her hair and then he 
dried it with a blower. The soft waves and curls from the 
other day were gone and Traci's hair was brushing her ass 
cheeks. 

"I never realized a woman's hair was so much trouble," he 
said. 

Traci gathered her hair in one hand and swept it to her 
front. "You're lucky I didn't pack a styling iron," she 
said, examining her tresses. 

"Well, that's not the place for it," Russ said as he 
brushed her hair back over her shoulders so that nothing 
hid her magnificent tits.

Traci sighed as Russ softly cupped her breasts with his 
hands and rubbed his thumbs on her nipples. She looked 
down and saw his cock head reaching up. "I see our friend 
has reawakened." She grasped his cock like it was a thick 
leash and pulled Russ into the bedroom. She situated 
herself on the bed. She licked a couple of fingers and 
ran them over her clit and her rosy pussy lips. "I'm 
ready," she announced.

"Yes, ma'am," he said enthusiastically, and crawled 
between her legs. 

The rest of the day went just as well as her morning. 
Traci won the tournament with ease. She looked around 
after she made her last putt to put her score ten strokes 
better than her nearest opponent. She nodded and smiled 
as she acknowledged the cheers and applause from the 
crowd around the eighteenth green. There was Russ, 
cheering and clapping. She gave him a wink. The 
television crew was back; she made sure that she was 
smiling brilliantly when she turned in their direction. 
Mr. Stone and Ritchie were standing to one side, and 
there was her daddy standing between them. Traci ran over 
and gave him a big hug. 

"I was just telling your father about our deal," said Mr. 
Stone. He gestured to a file folder full of papers. 

"You mean your proposal," said Traci. She took the file 
from his hand. "I have to have my uncle look this over. 
He's a lawyer, maybe he can shop it around for me."

Mr. Stone's face fell, but then he smiled. "I'm sure 
he'll find it satisfactory," he said hopefully. 

Traci hugged her father again. Three male conquests and 
at least the potential for a shit load of money, not a 
bad weekend, she thought. 

End

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 21