Pantsing and Stripping Forums

This is a short story that I wrote from an anthology short stories.
https://storiesonline.net/s/31531/prope ... thology-of

My friend Mike Gifford wrote most of them. He could do more in a vignette than I could in 55 chapters to convey an entire story. He often threw away little scraps of ideas that I collected and got his permission to post. However, as I closed out the series (I discovered that people aren't inclined to read disparate anthologies on that site, and they'd probably rather read individual short stories because the summary would grab them.

This is from the the final chapter of the series, and it's called Three Hole Golf Tournament. I was inspired by two trophy wives I saw who had much older husbands. They were playing golf, but I could imagine them working at Hooters if they had not landed the gig as these entitled old assholes wives. I could also picture them being willing to fuck or suck anything to get the job, and to get REALLY bored and jaded.

So, I created a scenario in my head, where the main character's step son went to high school with her when she was hot shit and dated jocks. And this three hole golf course, was a play on words created by the aforementioned rich assholes for their wives to play three rounds of golf with the added golf of humiliating each other. I didn't want to think too deeply about it, so I wrote this short one and done kind of story and I thought I'd share it with you. I added a whole lot of photos as I was just starting to learn how to upscale and get better at touching up with photoshop, so I was sort of showing off. I made all of the pictures with the help of AI, but it wasn't just type in one thing and be done. It was a process. I hope you enjoy it as a light hearted pure ENF story.



Three Hole Golf Tournament

Karen and I had both entered the Charity Three Hole Tournament. It was a joke the men made up, but we played along for the attention. The tournament was tailor-made for three-hole whores like us, and we embraced the title with a wicked grin. We’d married rich, enjoying an incredible life of luxury without ever wanting for anything--except for someone else’s cock and the thrills that came with it.

“Honestly, Holly,” Karen purred, teasing me with her poolside tan and her latest younger lover in tow. “I heard you’ve been practicing your swing with Tom the gardener again.” She sipped her expensive scotch, her eyes glittering with amusement. “I’m impressed you can still find time to fit him in, considering how often you’re under Mark’s nine iron.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Jealous, Karen? I know how much you love having the greenest fairway on the block.” I sipped my own drink, enjoying the way it burned my throat. “Besides, variety is the spice of life, isn’t that what they say?”

Karen arched an eyebrow. “Only for those who need it.” She shot a glance at her latest conquest, a strapping young caddy from the local club. “But if you’re bored with your usual haunts, feel free to play a round with Jake here. I’m sure he’d be more than up for the challenge.”

I raised my glass in a mock toast. “Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer my men with a bit more ... experience.” I winked at her, and Karen’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

We’d been fucking each other’s husbands and lovers for years, all in the name of friendly competition. It was a game we both excelled at, and it added a certain spice to our otherwise mundane lives. Neither of us would admit it, but the thrill of the chase, of stealing away a conquest from the other, was intoxicating.

As the day of the Three Hole Challenge approached, we both upped our games in preparation. I practiced my swing each day, blissfully unaware that Karen was doing the same. We’d always been competitive, but this year, it felt different. There was something in the way she brushed against me at the clubhouse or the way her eyes lingered just a bit too long on my cleavage. I could swear she was after more than just the charity purse.

Finally, the day of the competition arrived. The course lay before us, lush and inviting. The sun beat down mercilessly, causing our already-revealing golf attire to cling to our sweat-drenched skin.

“Let’s tee it up, Karen,” I purred, unable to keep the excitement from my voice as we approached the first hole. “Winner gets to pick the first hole to play.”

Karen smirked, her emerald eyes sparkling with desire and trepidation. “You’re on, Holly. May the best wh— I mean, golfer, win.”

Karen teed off first, her body twisting in a sinuous motion as she put all her considerable power into the ball. It soared through the air, landing mere inches from the hole. The crowd gasped in awe, but I knew better than to underestimate her prowess on the green.

My turn. I took a deep breath, letting my breathing calm my racing heart. The heat, the competition, and the knowledge of what was at stake had me more worked up than any round of golf I’d ever played. I addressed the ball, lining up my shot with the laser-like precision that had earned me my title. Here goes nothing, I thought, and swung.

My ball sailed through the air, coming to rest just a hair’s breadth from the hole, a low whistle escaping my lips as it landed. It was going to be a tight match.

Throughout the game, our banter grew more and more suggestive, each little miss-hit or well-played shot fueled by our rivalry and need to dominate one another by any means possible. This would be fun! But it would also be twisted.

As I adjusted the brim of my visor, the Florida sun beats down on the manicured greens of The Villages, where privilege and play intertwine in a dance of leisure and luxury. I’m standing on the first tee box, my heart pounding with anticipation and adrenaline. Today is the day of the infamous Charity Three Hole Challenge, and my best frenemy, Karen Blackwood, is strutting towards me with the confidence of a lioness stalking her prey.

The tournament is unofficial, but almost everyone at the country club knows about it. It’s been an unofficial tradition for years.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Ms. “Big Tits” Chambers,” she drawls, her emerald eyes dancing with mischief. “Are those your real assets, or do you have a 9-iron stuffed in your skirt?”

“Careful there, Karen,” I purred, running a manicured nail down my collarbone. “You know how jealous your husband gets when other women ask about his clubs.” I gave her a coy wink, hiding my amusement as her cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

The Charity Three Hole Challenge was a stroke of genius, pun intended, devised by the bored housewives of The Villages. The rules were simple: each hole represented a hole to be claimed—mouth, asshole, or pussy. Our wealthy husbands owned the country club and greased whatever palms needed to be greased to allow us to get away with it.

The woman who lost three holes of golf would forfeit her dignity, riding around the retirement community in a golf cart adorned with a cardboard glory hole sign, servicing anyone who stopped to play a round, so to speak.

Karen and I had been competing for years, our petty rivalry escalating from backyard barbecues to the bedrooms of our unsuspecting spouses. Our lives in the Villages were a never-ending round of charity events and country club gossip, but we both craved something more. We both needed a challenge, and today’s tournament was going to deliver in spades, or should I say, strokes?

The day progressed like a sultry dance, our bodies twisting and turning with the lush greens of the course. Our competition was as fierce on the fairway as it was in the bedroom, and by the 17th hole, we were tied with one hole left to play, a challenging par 3 over water.

“This is it, Karen,” I said, my heart pounding in anticipation. “Winner takes all.”

She nodded, a cool confidence in her gaze. “You know what they say, Holly. A good drive can make all the difference.”

Knocking the ball off the tee, I watched as it soared through the air, its flight a testament to my practiced precision. The ball sailed towards the green, stopping mere inches from the hole. I smirked, my heart racing with satisfaction and anticipation.

Licking her lips nervously, Karen addressed her ball, a determined look in her eyes. She swung, her club connecting with the ball as she groaned. It soared past the green, landed on the fringe, and trickled into the water hazard.

I addressed the ball, my skirt riding up just high enough to give Karen and anyone else nearby a view of my bare slit. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass and expensive cologne. With a practiced swing, I sent the ball soaring toward the flag, which had been replaced with a lewd open woman’s mouth with her tongue sticking out. Almost everyone who saw us on the course knew why we were there, today. A raucous cheer went up from the others on the green, their lecherous catcalls fueling my fire.

Karen winked at me, when it was her turn. Her swing was smooth and fluid, the head of his club making contact with the ball with a satisfying thwack. The ball soared through the air, but I knew it would fall short of the green.

We repeated this dance throughout the round, our competitive banter masking the sexual tension between us. Our rounds of golf quickly devolved into a game of who could distract the other more, with teasing touches and suggestive grinding against the golf cart.

I swung the club with all my might, sending the ball sailing towards the green. It landed mere inches from the hole, practically begging to be tapped in. Karen cursed under her breath as she conceded this hole.

It was tradition that the loser of the first hole offer a blowjob to the caddy. She took him behind the trees and gave him a quick hummer before we continued on our way.

I took a deep breath, adjusting my nearly non-existent skirt and making my way back to the golf cart. It was going to be a long, agonizing afternoon. But I couldn’t wait to tee off again. This was starting to be an interesting day.

The second hole went to Karen. She was a practiced Golfer. The tradition was the loser of that round had to play with two golf balls nestled in her vagina like Ben-Wa balls. It was uncomfortable, and humiliating but so pleasurable.

As we approached the third hole, I couldn’t help but stare at the flag in disbelief. A crudely drawn picture of an asshole being pounded by a cartoonish cock stared back at me, taunting my sensibilities. I glanced over at Karen, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I guess we know what the theme of this hole is,” she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Three holes of golf, three hole sluts,” I snickered in agreement. We were both known as anal queens around the Villages. I take it up the ass daily, and so does my partner in crime Karen.

“Let’s finish this hole, so you can start riding around offering free blowjobs in the parking lot to anyone that wants them” I replied, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. Inside, my heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I had always been a thrill-seeker, but this was pushing even my boundaries.

Karen leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear. “How about we make things a little more interesting? We’ll both be the ‘holes’ for this hole, and whoever sinks their putt first gets to ... well, you know.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at her suggestion, my body already responding to the tantalizing prospect. “Fine,” I said, my voice huskier than I intended. “But I get to go first.”

We positioned ourselves on the plush green grass, spreading our legs wide for optimal target practice. The sun beat down on my bare skin, making me acutely aware of my own vulnerability. I lined up my putt, my mind racing with thoughts of what was to come.

With a deep breath, I swung the club, watching as the ball rolled slowly towards its destination. It took two putts to finally sink it, my body trembling with anticipation as Karen took her turn. She eyed me up and down, her gaze lingering on the damp spot that had formed between my legs.

“Looks like I win,” she said with a smirk, lining up her shot. In one swift motion, she swung the club, sending the ball flying towards me with a force that took my breath away. I gasped as it made contact, the sensation of being ‘sunk’ sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

Karen’s laughter echoed in my ears as I lay there, panting and spent. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, but I couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through me. Maybe this game was exactly what I needed to break free from the monotony of my life.

As we gathered our things to move on to the next hole, I stole a glance at Karen, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing look. “Careful, Holly,” she said, her voice low and seductive. “You might just find yourself enjoying this game more than you ever thought possible.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her words, already looking forward to the next challenge. Who knew that golf could be so ... exhilarating?

The sun bore down on my back as I knelt before the flag. I raised my skirt, so that my pussy was now a target for Karen to sink her putt. The humiliation of losing was a bitter pill to swallow, but the thrill of the game was undeniable. I could feel Karen’s eyes on me, her smirk evident even without looking.

I turned my head slightly, meeting her gaze. “Are you going to make me pay up, or are you just going to enjoy the view?” I asked, my voice dripping with false bravado. I had lost. She made the putt, and I had bet my ass.

Karen reamed me with the handle of her putter on the third hole, and IN my third hole.

Karen chuckled, sauntering towards me with a swagger that made my heart race. “Oh, I’m going to make you pay up, all right,” she purred, her fingers tracing the length of the putter with a wicked gleam in her eye.

I shivered, my body responding to the promise in her words. I knew what was coming, and yet I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. I spread my legs wider, bracing myself for the impact.

“Ready?” Karen asked, her voice low and husky.

I nodded, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I felt the cold metal of the putter press against my ass, and I tensed, waiting for the inevitable.

With one swift motion, Karen thrust the putter into me, the force of it making me cry out. I could feel every ridge and contour of the club as it filled me, the sensation overwhelming. I gripped the grass beneath me, my knuckles white with the effort of holding on.

Karen began to move the putter in and out, her movements slow and deliberate at first, then gradually increasing in speed. I moaned, my body writhing with pleasure and pain. I could hear Karen’s ragged breathing as she worked me, her own desire evident in every stroke.

I never thought I’d find myself in this position—bent over, naked on the 3rd hole of the prestigious Palm Grove Golf Course, with Karen’s putter lodged firmly in my ass. But a bet was a bet, and I had no choice but to submit to the humiliating consequences of my loss.

My heart raced as Karen stepped closer, “You know, Holly,” she purred, her voice dripping with malice, “you always did have such a lovely ass. It’s a shame to see it go to waste on your clueless husband.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a moan as she adjusted her grip on the putter. The cool metal sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn’t help but feel a perverse thrill at the thought of being so utterly dominated by my longtime rival.

“Now, be a good girl and take it like an ass slut,” Karen commanded, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

With a swift, merciless thrust, she drove the putter deeper into me. I cried out, my body tensing as the pain mingled with an unexpected wave of pleasure. I hated myself for enjoying it, for craving the degradation that Karen so eagerly dished out.

As she continued to ream my ass with the putter, I could hear the distant sound of laughter. My friends, those traitorous bitches, had gathered to watch the spectacle, their giggles and catcalls echoing across the golf course.

“Look at her, taking it like a champ!” one of them cackled. “She’s such a dumb slut!”

I gritted my teeth, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

“You like that, don’t you, Holly?” Karen taunted, her breath hot against my ear. “You love being used and humiliated, just like the pathetic little whore you are.”

I couldn’t deny it. There was something intoxicating about the power dynamic between us, about being at Karen’s mercy. It was twisted and wrong, but I couldn’t help the way my body responded to her touch.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with desire, “don’t stop.”

Karen chuckled darkly, her fingers digging into my hips as she increased the pace of her thrusts. “As you wish, my dear. But remember, this is only the beginning. You still have to pay your debts, and I have plenty of ways to make you suffer.”

I shuddered, my mind filling with images of the depraved acts Karen had no doubt planned for me. But even as fear and humiliation washed over me, I couldn’t ignore the dark, twisted part of myself that yearned for more.

As Karen continued to ream my ass with the putter, I gave in to the twisted pleasure, surrendering myself to the exquisite torment she so expertly inflicted. I was her plaything, her pawn in this sick game, and I would do anything to satisfy her sadistic desires.

And as I heard the roar of laughter from my friends, I realized that, for better or worse, I was exactly where I belonged, naked and ashamed of getting my tight asshole reamed by a bitch even sluttier and more ruthless than I was. It was so fucking hot.

“Fuck,” I gasped, my voice hoarse. “You’re going to make me cum.”

Karen’s laughter was low and throaty. “That’s the idea,” she murmured, her fingers digging into my hips as she pushed me harder and faster.

I could feel myself building towards release, my body trembling with the effort of holding on. And then, with one final thrust, I was there, my orgasm tearing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

When it was over, I collapsed onto the grass, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Karen pulled the putter out of me with a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“I told you you’d enjoy this game,” she said, her voice smug.

I couldn’t help but smile, my body still humming with pleasure. “You were right,” I admitted, my voice soft. “I think I might have found my new favorite pastime.”

Once I had my clothes back on, It was time for me to accept that I had lost the bet. I phoned my husband and let him know that I’d be sucking dicks tonight.

“Just like every night, dear?”

“I lost the three-hole course, so now I am going to be riding around in the mobile glory hole,” I said.

Karen had one of her servants fashion a very crude sign before the contest. It was big enough to hide behind and give anonymous blow jobs. It was clearly labeled “Mobile Glory Hole”. Anyone could have looked behind the cardboard and saw me there gobbling dick if they wanted. Most men didn’t care to look.

Gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel of my golf cart, I scanned the pristine lawns of the country club, my eyes hungry for the next thrill. The sun glinted off the chrome of the club’s emblem, momentarily blinding me. I squinted, my full lips curling into a mischievous smile as I spotted my target: a bald, old man leaning on his putter, his eyes scanning the course with a practiced gaze.

With a flick of my wrist, I sent the cart gliding towards him, my heart pounding with anticipation. I could sense the old man’s curiosity as I pulled up beside him, my low-cut top revealing just enough cleavage to hold his attention. I leaned forward, my breasts pressing against the cool metal of the golf cart’s dashboard, and whispered, “Care for a little extra fun on the back nine?”

The old man’s eyes widened, and he glanced around nervously before nodding. I grinned, satisfied, and gestured towards the makeshift glory hole I’d installed in the side of the golf cart. As the old man fumbled with his belt, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. This was the thrill I craved, the chance to flaunt my wealth and power in the most scandalous of ways.

I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation of the old man’s cock sliding between my lips. I could hear the distant sound of laughter and the clink of glasses from the clubhouse, but all that mattered was the taste of him, the feel of his flesh against my tongue. I worked him expertly, my years of practice serving me well.

As I felt him begin to tense, I opened my eyes and glanced through the glory hole. The old man’s face was flushed, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to contain his pleasure. I smirked, relishing the power I held over him.

Suddenly, a crisp hundred-dollar bill appeared in the glory hole, the old man’s trembling fingers stuffing it towards me. I rolled my eyes, but continued to suck him off, my movements slow and deliberate. As he reached his climax, I took the hundred-dollar bill from his grasp and stuffed it back through the hole.

“I don’t need your money,” I murmured, my voice low and sultry. “I have more than enough of my own.”

The old man stared at me, his mouth agape, as I pulled away and hit the accelerator. The golf cart lurched forward, leaving him standing there, his pants still undone and his face a mixture of shock and arousal.

As I drove away, I couldn’t help but laugh. I was Holly Chambers, the rich and entitled housewife who got off on giving anonymous blowjobs in her golf cart. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Later that afternoon, I found myself cruising the grounds of the country club once more, my eyes scanning for my next target. That’s when I spotted them: two sweaty, dirty Mexicans working on the lawn. Karen would have insisted I do it, and I had to admit, the idea of sucking off two men at once was more than a little intriguing.

I pulled up beside them, my golf cart’s engine purring like a contented cat. The men looked up, their dark eyes widening as they took in my toned physique and nearly transparent top. I licked my lips, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Hola, chicos,” I purred, my voice dripping with innuendo. “Want to take a break and have some fun?”

The men exchanged a glance, then grinned, their white teeth flashing in the sunlight. I gestured towards the back of the golf cart, my eyes gleaming with mischief. They didn’t need any further encouragement.

As they approached the cart, I could smell the sweat and dirt on their bodies, It was oddly intoxicating, and I found myself growing wet with desire. I leaned back, my eyes closed, as they climbed into the back of the cart.

I could feel their hands on me, rough and calloused, as they tugged at my clothes. I moaned, my body responding to their touch. They were dirty and sweaty, but their cocks were hard and ready, and that was all that mattered.

I took turns sucking them off, my mouth moving from one cock to the other as they groaned with pleasure. I could feel their fingers digging into my flesh, their movements growing more urgent as they neared their climax.

As they finished, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grinned. “Mexican for lunch,” I murmured, my voice husky with desire. “Just what I needed.”

I glanced over at Karen’s golf cart, where she was watching me with a mixture of envy and amusement. “Bitch,” she mouthed, her lips curling into a smirk. I just laughed, my body still buzzing with pleasure, and hit the accelerator.

My life was a never-ending cycle of thrills and indulgence, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I get off on wasting my husband’s money on trivial luxuries almost as much as I get off on strange cock and doing nasty things just for the fuck of it.

When Karen finally caught up to me, she asked “did you enjoy your Mexican for lunch?”

I grinned, “You know I did,” she replied, her voice dripping with innuendo. “But I have to admit, I’m still hungry.”

Karen raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well then,” she said, her voice taking on a teasing tone, “maybe it’s time for some dessert. Get cracking, whore! I want to see you suck a lot more dicks than this. You are boring me!”

I had lost the bet. I had to comply. I would have made Karen do the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this again, but the thrill was too much to resist. Sitting in my golf cart, I watched as the men in khaki shorts and polo shirts finished up their 18 holes. They were laughing and joking, completely oblivious to the fact that I was about to give them the best round of their lives.

I adjusted my nearly transparent top, making sure my ample cleavage was on full display. The skimpy skirt I was wearing barely covered my ass, and I knew that it would drive them wild. I was a rich bitch, and I loved nothing more than using my wealth and power to get what I wanted.

As the men started to make their way towards the clubhouse, I swung my golf cart into action. I pulled up next to the first group, my heart racing with excitement. The men looked surprised, but I could see the lust in their eyes.

“Hey boys,” I purred, my voice dripping with innuendo. “Want to take a ride with me?”

They exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of my offer. But then one of them spoke up. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, his eyes fixed on my chest.

I smiled, my confidence soaring. “Why don’t you hop in the back and find out?” I suggested, winking at him.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He and his friends piled into the back of my golf cart, their laughter filling the air. I hit the accelerator, my heart racing as I drove towards the secluded area of the course.

When we arrived, I turned to face them. “Alright boys,” I said, my voice low and sultry. “Who’s first?”

They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. But then one of them stepped forward, a smirk on his face. He was older than the others, with a thick head of grey hair and a potbelly. But I could see the desire in his eyes, and I knew that he was up for the challenge.

“I’ll go first,” he said, his voice gruff. “But it’s going to cost you.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was secretly thrilled. I reached into my purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Will this do?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “More than enough,” he replied, taking the money from my hand.

I leaned forward, my heart racing as I reached for his belt. I undid his pants, my fingers trembling with anticipation. I could feel the eyes of the other men on me, and it only added to my excitement.

I pulled out his cock, my eyes widening in surprise. It was bigger than I had expected, thick and veiny. I wrapped my lips around it, my tongue flicking against the tip. He groaned, his hands gripping my hair as I began to move up and down.

I could hear the other men murmuring their approval, their own excitement building. I worked my magic, my mouth and hands moving in perfect sync. I could feel the older man’s cock throbbing in my mouth, and I knew that he was close.

With a final thrust, he came, his hot cum filling my mouth. I swallowed it down, my body shuddering with pleasure. I pulled away, my lips glistening with saliva.

The other men were eager to take their turn. One by one, they stepped forward, their cocks hard and ready. I worked my way through them, my body buzzing with excitement. They laughed and called me names, but I didn’t care. I was a rich bitch, and I loved nothing more than being degraded and humiliated.

When I was finished, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “So,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Who’s ready for round two?”

They laughed, their eyes gleaming with lust. But then one of them spoke up. “Hey, aren’t you that rich bitch who lost the three hole tournament?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

I rolled my eyes. “I may have lost the tournament,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I’m definitely winning at this game.”

They laughed, but I could see the respect in their eyes. I was a rich bitch, but I was a rich bitch who knew how to have a good time. And as I drove away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. I may have been a three hole slut, but I was a three hole slut who didn’t need their money or approval. They were all sons of stock brokers who inherited their wealth. I fucked my way into mine!

I couldn’t believe the predicament I found myself in. After losing a bet to Karen Blackwood, I was now driving around the golf course and country club in a tennis cart, offering blow jobs through a cardboard glory hole to anyone who wanted one. It was humiliating, but also strangely exhilarating. I had always been a bit of an exhibitionist, and the thought of being anonymous and pleasuring these men was oddly thrilling.

As I rode around the course, I could feel the eyes of the other golfers on me. The three hole tournament was unofficial. It was something created by rich billionaires for their young wives to do to amuse them. Many people knew of the tradition, but it was my first time playing.

I’d definitely be back next year to try again.

There was no way to pretend this was normal. I flashed my tits from behind the cart. I had a sign taped to the side of the cart that read “Free Blow Jobs: Loser of Bet.”



(NOTE: when I made this, I had spent a long time fixing up the captions, only to discover after another round of upscaling i hosed them. Rather than put it back, I felt that Karen failed high school and this was the best she could do -so I left it, because it was funnier to me this way that she couldn't spell glory hole but she could work one - this is actually based on a real picture, an actual woman took holding a sign like that on her golf cart, which says mobile glory hole. I never got the context of that original picture, but I'd imagine it was a swinger's golf event. Yes, I also know her arm was fucked up. I lost patience trying to get this one perfect, and didn't have the skill I do today with inpaint. Just imagine there is someone behind her fucking her which is what I was trying to go for anyway.)


I might as well own it.

My next customer was a balding man in his 50s. He parked his golf cart next to mine and gave me a nod. I could see the bulge in his pants and knew what he wanted. I motioned for him to come closer and then lifted up the cardboard flap. He didn’t hesitate for a second, sticking his cock through the hole.

I took a deep breath and then began to work my magic. I treated it like an ice cream pop, licking and sucking on it with relish. I could hear the man moaning with pleasure as I worked my tongue around the head, teasing the sensitive spot just below. I loved the feeling of power I had over him, knowing that he was completely at my mercy.

As I continued to pleasure the man, I couldn’t help but think about how pathetic he was. Here he was, a grown man, reduced to sticking his dick through a hole in a piece of cardboard to get off. It was sad, really. But I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying myself.

After a few minutes, the man finally finished with a loud groan. He pulled away from the glory hole and then drove off, leaving me alone once again. I took a moment to compose myself before moving on to my next customer.

I love cum. It’s delicious. I especially liked not having to look at or talk to the semen donors and the cardboard divider made that possible. I considered doing this again next weekend.

Over the next hour, I pleasured three more men in this way. Each one was different, but they all shared the same desperate need for release. I could tell that they were all a little embarrassed, but they couldn’t resist the allure of a free blow job.

As I was finishing up with my last customer, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was my stepson, Jake. He was home from college for the summer and had decided to play a round of golf with his friends.

“Hey, is that you, Holly?” he called out.

I froze, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I quickly grabbed the sign and tossed it into the back of the cart, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I called back, trying to sound casual.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, walking over to the cart.

“Just giving out free blow jobs,” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Jake looked at me quizzically for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“You’re such a weirdo,” he said, shaking his head.

I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by his comment. I knew he didn’t mean it, but it still stung. I watched as he walked back to his friends, laughing and joking with them. I couldn’t believe that I had once had a crush on him. He was such a immature little twerp.

“It’s a contest. I lost a bet,” I explained and started up the cart. He wasn’t unzipping and I wasn’t sticking around. There were dicks to suck and cum to gobble.

As I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment. I had always thought that Jake was different from the other guys his age, but now I saw that he was just like them. He was a pervert who would do anything for a cheap thrill.

But then I remembered the feeling of power I had when I was pleasuring those men. I realized that I didn’t need Jake’s approval. I was my own woman, and I could do whatever I wanted.

And so, I continued to drive around the golf course, offering blow jobs to anyone who wanted one. I didn’t care who they were or what they thought of me. I was in control, and that was all that mattered.

As I was finishing up with my last customer of the day, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was Karen Blackwood.

“Well, well, well,” she said, smirking at me. “Looks like you completed the mission after all. Sucked all the dicks that wanted to be licked, and ate all the jizz, too! A real cum queen!”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I knew that Karen was just trying to get a rise out of me, but I wasn’t going to let her.

“Yeah, I lost,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But I had a good time anyway.”

Karen raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” she said. “I find that hard to believe.”

I shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a complicated woman,” I said, winking at her.

Karen laughed.

“You’re something else, Holly,” she said. “I’ll give you that.”

As I drove away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. I had lost the bet, but I had also discovered something about myself. I was capable of anything, and I wasn’t afraid to take risks.

And so, I continued to drive around the golf course, offering blow jobs to anyone who wanted one. I was in control, and that was all that mattered.

As I was finishing up with my last customer of the day, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was Jake.

“Hey, Holly,” he said, sounding nervous. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I turned around and saw that he was blushing. He looked like he had something important to say.

“Sure,” I said, smiling at him. “What’s up?”

Jake looked down at his feet for a moment and then looked back up at me.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” he said. “For what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected him to apologize.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Jake looked relieved.

“Thanks,” he said.

I can’t believe completed it, I thought, as I chucked the makeshift “Glory Hole” sign into the nearest trash can and wiped my lips with a napkin. The lingering taste of cum made my stomach churn. I felt like a dirty whore, but goddamn, did it feel good.

I had spent the entire day offering my mouth to anyone that wanted it. I was free to go home now and forget all about it. I’d probably fuck one of the servants and then make him draw me a nice warm bubble bath while I waited on my billionaire husband to come home from one of his silly business meetings.

The golf cart hummed beneath me as I sped down the fairway, my heart still racing from the thrill of the afternoon. I never imagined that sucking off a bunch of anonymous strangers at a glory hole would be so exhilarating. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

I kept looking at pitiful Jake in the rear view mirror. He was walking home. His dad bought him a new Porsche but that was back in the parking lot. I was feeling generous. I turned around and offered him a ride.

His eyes widened in surprise – or was it excitement? – as he took in my disheveled appearance. I could see the bulge in his pants and knew exactly what he was thinking. I still had a craving for cum, and we weren’t blood related anyway. Why not?

“Hey there, big boy,” I purred, leaning back in the driver’s seat and giving him a seductive smile. “What brings you out here?”

He hesitated for a moment before responding, “I am surprised you came back for me, Mom.”

“I am a good mom. I won’t leave my baby out here all alone,” I said in a cutesy baby voice as I pinched his cheeks.

It was enjoyable teasing him. I’d been doing it since I married his old shit-stain of a father. I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel his cock in my mouth. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Why don’t you climb aboard, and I’ll give you a little ride?”

Jake didn’t need any more convincing. He quickly climbed into the passenger seat, his hands trembling as he fumbled with his belt buckle. I watched him with hungry eyes, licking my lips in anticipation.

As soon as his cock was free, I took it in my mouth, savoring the taste of his precum. Jake let out a low moan, his fingers tangling in my hair as I bobbed up and down. I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth, and I knew he was close.

“Fuck, Holly,” he groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. “I’m gonna cum.”

I pulled away just in time, watching as he spilled his seed onto the pristine golf course. I licked my lips, smirking at him. “You like that, baby?”

Jake nodded, still panting heavily. “Fuck yes. That was amazing.”

I laughed, running my fingers through his hair. “You’re such a naughty little pervert. Did you enjoy watching me suck off all those guys earlier?”

Jake blushed, looking away sheepishly. “Yeah. It was hot.”

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “You know, I’m thinking about doing it again next weekend. You want to come with me?”

Jake’s eyes widened, and I could see the excitement building in him. “Really? Can I ... can I watch?”

I chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. “Of course, you can watch. But I might need a little help.”

Jake’s face fell, and I could tell he was disappointed. “You want me to ... suck cock too?”

I shook my head, smiling mischievously. That was an idea. I would enjoy humiliating my step son, but that meant less cock for me. I decided not to say anything.

Jake became crest fallen as we rode back to the club house.

“Fine, what is your fantasy, Jake?” I asked impatiently. I had time to kill and he might have some ideas that were new and exciting.

“I’ve always wanted to black mail you,” he said.

That was unexpected! I was intrigued.

“You are going to blackmail me? with what? your dad knows I fuck around on him,” I said. I would be happy if his father wanted to divorce me. I’d get a shit-ton of money and be set for life and I wouldn’t ever have to fuck him again. He was a limp dick anyway.

I was blackmail proof!

“Your dad was one of the sponsors of today’s tournament. He made your last mom play. I don’t think he’s going to care if I do anything naughty.”

Jake admitted that was true. He seemed frustrated. I found that amusing.

“You’ve been my mom now for two years, and you are so fucking hot. Much hotter than my last mom. Nothing seems to humiliate or embarrass you, and I can’t think of any way to get leverage over you. I thought about planting cocaine in your room and then trying to get you to believe I’d tell Dad and get him to divorce you. I don’t think he would give a fuck, though.”

I did a lot of coke. I did some with his Dad. I told him he’d have to try harder if he wanted to get some dirt on me.

Jake seemed out of ideas.

“So, that’s your big blackmail plan?”

“I probably shouldn’t have told you. It kind of makes it less of a surprise now,” he stammered. He was such a dweeb. Jake was a loser in high school and he was still a loser even though he was born with more wealth than he could ever spend in two lifetimes. Jake hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously on the dashboard. “I ... I don’t know. I just thought it would be hot to have some kind of power over you.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what kind of power are we talking about? You want to be my master or something?”

Jake blushed, looking away. “I don’t know. I just ... I want to see how far you’ll go.”

I smiled, leaning back in my seat. I decided to see where this might go. “Well, you’re in luck, baby. I’m willing to play along – as long as you make it interesting. We could pretend you have a whole lot of dirt on me and skip the part where I laugh in your face for trying.”

Jake’s eyes lit up, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. “What if ... what if I made you do things for me?”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What kind of things? This was starting to be an exhilarating conversation.”

Jake hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if I made you ... be my sex slave?”

I laughed, trying to hide my excitement. “You want me to be your sex slave? And what would that entail?”

Jake’s eyes darted around nervously, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know. I just ... I want to see you submit to me. I want to see you do things you’ve never done before.”

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “And what if I told you I was willing to do anything you wanted? Anything at all?”

Jake’s breath hitched, and I could see the desire building in him. “Anything?”

I nodded, smiling seductively. “Anything as long as it’s not boring. I am not going to polish silverware, or write you an essay. But you have to promise me one thing.”

Jake looked at me, his eyes wide with anticipation. “What’s that?”

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. “You have to promise me that you won’t tell your father. This is our little secret, understand?”

Jake nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. “I promise. I won’t tell anyone.”

I smiled, satisfied. “Good. Then let’s see what kind of fun we can have.”

As we pulled up to the country club, could feel the anticipation building in me. I had no idea what Jake had planned, but I was willing to go along for the ride.

The golf cart rumbled beneath us as Jake and I sat in a heavy silence, his confession hanging in the air. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, but I kept my eyes focused on the winding path ahead. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the manicured lawns and pristine golf courses of The Villages. It was a beautiful sight, but I couldn’t fully enjoy it with the tension between us.

Finally, I turned to face him, my eyes narrowing as I studied his expression. “You’ve been thinking about this for a long time, haven’t you?” I asked, my voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “Yeah, I have,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ever since you and dad got married, I’ve ... I’ve wanted to do things with you. But I didn’t know how to make it happen.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what kind of things did you want to do with me?” I asked, my tone playful.

Jake hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Things that would make you submit to me. Things that would make you do what I wanted.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his response. “You want to blackmail me into being your sex slave?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, and I could see a flicker of embarrassment in them. “I ... I don’t know,” he stammered. “I just ... I want to see you do things you’ve never done before. Things that would make you uncomfortable.”

I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest as I considered his words. It was an interesting proposition, to say the least. I had always been a confident and assertive woman, but the idea of submitting to someone else’s desires was strangely appealing. And the fact that it was Jake, my own stepson, only added to the taboo allure of it.

I had submitted to Karen, but she was my equal and that was a lost bet. Jake was nothing to me, and he wanted to control me.

“Okay,” I said, my voice soft. “I’ll do it. But only if you promise to make it interesting.”

Jake’s eyes lit up with excitement, and I could see the relief wash over him. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

The golf cart bounced along the fairway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the perfectly manicured grass. I could feel Jake’s eyes on me, his gaze heavy and intense. I had offered to let him drive the cart back to the clubhouse, but now I was starting to wonder if that had been a mistake.

“So, what kind of fantasies do you have about me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. “You know, now that you have this so-called blackmail on me.”

Jake’s face flushed, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. “Well, I’ve always thought it would be hot to pimp you out to some of my friends. You know, have you suck their cocks while I watch.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? And what else?”

“I’ve also thought about beating you with a yardstick. You know, to teach you a lesson.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. I wasn’t into pain, but it might be exciting. “A yardstick? That’s a new one. And what else?”

Jake’s face grew redder, and he hesitated again before continuing. “I’ve also thought about fisting you. You know, to see how much you can take. Shoving my arm all the way up your dirty cunt.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the thought. I was a size queen. I could take his fist if he got me wet first. “Fisting, huh? That’s intense. And what else?”

Jake’s voice grew quieter, and he looked down at his hands. “I’ve also thought about making you drink my piss. And making you fuck dogs.”

I stared at him in shock, my mind racing with images of the depraved acts he was describing. “Jesus, Jake. Those are some fucked up fantasies.”

But even as I said the words, I could feel a thrill running through me. I had always been drawn to the darker side of things, and the idea of indulging in Jake’s twisted desires was strangely appealing. He was ashamed of yourself.

“I want to strip you naked and run behind it all the way back to our cars!”

“You’ve been thinking about this for a really long time, and that’s all you could come up with?” I smirked as I began to strip.

I stopped the cart and climbed out, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel Jake’s eyes on me as I stripped off my clothes, my body bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“Is this an all the time thing?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Or can I still go tanning and clubbing, fuck whoever I want, when I want, and do as I please unless we are playing this game?”

Jake looked at me for a long moment, his eyes filled with desire. “We can work something out,” he said finally.

I nodded, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I knew that I was about to embark on a wild and dangerous ride.

I kind of wished he had said it was an all the time thing. It would have made the blackmail feel more real and dangerous if I were exposed.

“I guess I have no choice but to do as you tell me, Jake!” I wiggled my ass, and jiggled my tits as I jogged away from the cart. “You bastard! How dare you threaten to expose my deepest, darkest secrets!”

Jake licked his lips and followed me in the cart, watching my pretty little ass shake as he herded me back to my car.



“You better not make me run behind your Porsche, either! You can at least let me have my keys back and not make me run around the mansion naked in front of all your father’s servants! They may tell him!”

I sunbathed topless and wore microkinis around our pools all the time in front of the servants. I enjoyed teasing them. This was all part of the act.

I closed my eyes and let the wind rush over my naked body. I could feel the thrill of the unknown coursing through my veins, and I knew that I was about to experience something truly unforgettable.

But even as I surrendered myself to the moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was playing with fire.

That was definitely going to be hot! I’ll see you in hell.