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Message-ID: <36822asstr$1024269006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel)
Subject: {ASSM} Mat Twassel: The Open (MF golf) RP
Date: Sun, 16 Jun 2002 19:10:06 -0400
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In celebration of the final round of the U.S. Open Golf 
Championship, I am reposting a few of my "golf" stories. 
These are "The Open," which was written for the Dulcinea 
Romance Festival of 2001, "The Sarabande and Six Iron," 
and "The Orange Dress," which first appeared in Mark 
Aster's Journal of Desire.  I am also posting a new 
story, "Mashie, Niblick, Spoon, Cleek," which is soon to 
appear as one of the days in Mat Twassel's Calendar 
http://calendar.atEROS.com   Sex excepted, there is no 
activity I prefer to golf.  These stories feature golf 
and sex. Go, Tiger!

For more stories and photographs take a look at my web 
page  http://members.aol.com/mmtwassel/ and visit my 
calendar at http://calendar.atEROS.com


The Open  
by Mat Twassel
==============

They met on the grassy mound just beyond the 18th 
green.  It was the last day of a little local 
tournament, and she was sitting there on the grass 
next to her girl friends watching all the cute 
golfers play the final hole, and he overcooked a 
gap wedge.  The ball hit the back of the green and 
popped up into the air and landed right in the lap 
of her bright red frock. 

"What do I do now?" she asked her girl friends, and 
they said don't touch it, it's illegal, so she just 
sat there and waited for him to come up.  He was 
grinning at her, maybe embarrassed, or maybe like 
he'd planned the whole thing, and after giving the 
situation just a moment's study,  he said, "Don't 
worry, I was born to make this shot."

She wasn't sure if she should close her eyes, but 
she decided to trust him, and the next thing she 
knew there was this sweet little click, and the 
ball  was scooting along that smooth green grass, 
gathering speed, and then, plop! straight into the 
hole.  "See?" he said, smiling at her, and for some 
reason he helped her to her feet and they were 
hugging.

That was two years ago and now he was practicing 
his putts on the hotel carpet on the eve of the 
Open's final round.  He was one shot off the lead. 
"Looking good," she told him.

"I don't know," he said.  "It's these little ones 
that make me nervous.  These three and four 
footers.  I'm okay here, but out there I don't 
know.  I have the feeling I'm going to mess up 
tomorrow. Those greens are so fast and slippery."

"Maybe I can help," she said. "Maybe I'll wear that 
lucky red frock."

He looked doubtful.

"Maybe I won't wear any panties on under it."

He gave her a look.  "I don't see how that would 
..."

Before he could finish his sentence, she'd stepped 
out of her jeans and shucked her panties and sat 
down on the hotel carpet with her legs spread.  
"Okay," she said, "Here's your target."

He cocked his head and gave her a puzzled look.

"Come on, whatcha waiting for?  Putt for my pussy.  
Roll it right into my hot little hole."

He laughed but he did as she asked.  The ball 
rolled straight and true, bumping her bare pussy 
lips dead center.  

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she answered.  "Nice putt."  Then she picked 
up the ball, gave it a little kiss, and rolled it 
back at him.  "Do it again," she said, "Just a 
little firmer."

He did it again, a little firmer.  Dead center.

"Perfect," she said.  Again she touched the ball to 
her lips.  But this time, before rolling it back to 
him, she touched the ball to her clit.

"You got juice on it," he said.

"Just putt."

"I'm all stiff," he complained.  "My caddie would 
laugh his head off if I putted this way."

"No excuses. Forget your caddie.  Forget 
everything.  Just concentrate on the hole.  See how 
it's opening for you?  See how open it is, how wide 
wide open, all for you?  Mmm, it wants you so much.  
It really does. Roll it right in here, sweetie.  
Come on, baby.  Roll it. Roll it right into my hot 
wet cunt."

Slowly he took the putter blade back.  Smoothly he 
stroked it through. Again the ball rolled straight 
and true. Again it bumped between those bare pussy 
lips.

"Mmm, yes," she purred, nuzzling the ball between 
her puffy lips, easing it against the quick of her 
hole, rubbing it up under her pudgy clit, then 
rolling it back at him. "Yes, I think you've got 
it, but just to make sure, we're going to practice 
for a while longer. Hit it again."  

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed.  It was the next night.  
She was snug in his embrace.  He was in her so 
deep, his big cock so smooth and deep and strong, 
driving her to the sweet edge of ecstasy and beyond.  
"Oh, sweet sweet baby," she crooned, "You are so 
fucking good.  So fucking fucking good."  She 
cupped his ass and spread her legs even more.

"Mm," he said, smiling at her, fucking her straight 
and true.  "Mmm, mmm, mmmmmmm," he hummed, 
fucking her harder, filling her with everything he 
had.  "I was born to make this stroke."

When they came, the whole room rattled, and on the 
night stand the Open Cup trembled itself right over 
the edge.

==============
The Open 
by Mat Twassel 

Mat's Erotic Calendar at http://calendar.atEros.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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