twisted-talez: I couldn’t believe my eyes. Not ten feet away from me in the golf clubhouse sho
twisted-talez: I couldn’t believe my eyes. Not ten feet away from me in the golf clubhouse showers was my idol with his big cock in hand, rocking his hips as he rubbed one out. In that moment, I knew I wasn’t going to leave those showers without his load up my ass. “Holy fuck,” I exclaimed a week earlier when my dad gave me the news. Branson Packer, my favorite golfer and a rockstar in the world of professional golf, was offering a one-time, private session with him at our local golf club for a thousand bucks a pop. My dad had scored me a session to celebrate my recent college graduation. “Holy FUCK,” I repeated again, hugging my dad. “Watch your language,” my dad joked. “I know how much you like Branson.”I didn’t just like Branson, I idolized him. For starters, he was fucking hot. ESPN had named him as one of the ten fastest-rising golfers in the sport. And PGA Magazine had done a recent pictorial feature on Branson with a photo of him teaching golf to his toddler son while his gorgeous wife watched adoringly. But the real reason I idolized Branson was because of his big cock. There were entire fan-based blogs devoted to photos of his massive bulge in his golf pants. The guy was clearly packing. “Let’s see your swing,” Branson directed a week later as we began my private session on the driving range of the golf club. Feeling a bit nervous in front of him, I teed up the ball and managed to drive it a little under 200 yards down the range. “Not bad,” Branson observed. “But you need to rotate your hips a bit more when you swing. Here, lemme show you,” he said while coming up behind me and placing his hands on my hips. I got a whiff of his intoxicating cologne, which drove me wild. With his body pressed into me, Branson led me through a series of hip rotations. His massive bulge was pressing into my ass, and it felt like he was getting hard. Jesus, I was turned on. I could have stayed that way forever, our bodies pressed together, but we then left the driving range to play nine holes while Branson continued to critique me. I’d like to say I learned a lot from his instruction, but I was too distracted by his handsome looks and his massive bulge. Christ, I wanted his cock. It took all my strength to keep from begging him to fuck me behind the sand trap. Before I knew it, we were headed back to the clubhouse. “For the last part of our session,” Branson said, leading me to the weight room, “I’m gonna show you a few strength-training exercises that can improve your game.” We were alone in the weight room, where Branson noted that my hamstrings seemed tight. Pulling out a yoga mat, he had me stretch back as he raised my right leg over my head.“This stretch will really open you up,” Branson advised, kneeling between my legs and putting his weight into me as he continued to press my leg over my head. My ass was slightly raised, and soon I could feel his bulge mashed up against my ass. It occurred to me that I’d been fucked many times in a similar position. Like at the driving range, I could feel Branson getting hard. As his cock rocked against my hole, I let out a soft moan. “Well … uh … looks like our time is up,” he suddenly stammered awkwardly. “I’m gonna hit the showers now, but you’re free to spend more time in the weight room. The clubhouse closes down in an hour.” As Branson stood up, I could see he was clearly hard, his big cock straining against his golf pants. Spend more time in the weight room, he had suggested? Fuck that. Joining Branson in the showers sounded far more promising. I quickly stripped down and wrapped one of the complimentary clubhouse towels around my waist as I headed to join him. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I entered the showers. Not ten feet away from me was my number one idol, Branson Packer, with his big cock in hand, rubbing one out. This was the stuff of dreams — wet dreams. In that moment, I knew I wasn’t going to leave those showers without his load up my ass. I stood frozen for a minute, my mind racing as to how to play this opportunity while Branson continued to jack his cock under the warm shower, his left hand bracing the wall. Should I take the shower head next to him and drop the proverbial soap? Or should I be more direct and just ask Branson if he wanted to fuck me? In the end, I didn’t have to decide. He was looking right at me. “Sorry, bro,” he half-apologized as he continued to jack himself. “Things are … uh … difficult with my wife right now, and I just need to rub one out before I go home.”“You want to talk about it?” I offered, hanging up my towel and taking the shower head next to Branson. “Shit. I might as well tell you. It’s gonna be all over the news,” he began. “TMZ has a sex tape of me fucking an 18-year-old waitress after a tournament in Scottsdale last month. The bitch set me up, hoping to get some cash out of me. I told my wife about it last night. My agent said they’re releasing the sex tape tomorrow.”“Fuck. That really sucks,” I sympathized. “Well, the worst part is my wife has cut me off,” Branson shared. “No more sex. Probably for good. And I’m too afraid to fuck some other bitch, now that all the news outlets are gonna be tailing me, waiting for me to slip up.”“You can fuck me,” I offered. “Shit, man,” he exclaimed, his cock getting harder. “I was hoping you’d offer up your ass, especially from the way you’ve been grinding against my cock all day.”“You ever fucked a guy?” I asked, reaching for his cock, teasing him with some slow strokes. “Yeah. We had a faggot who used to come around and take our cocks when I played college golf. I dumped so much cum in him,” Branson chuckled, “I’m amazed he never got pregnant.”“I’d carry your baby,” I joked, turning to brace myself against the wall, presenting my eager hole for his use while Branson spit on his cock. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he grunted, pushing into me. His hands went from my hips to my shoulders as he began to pummel my hole with no warming up.“Christ,” I gasped. “Slow up a little. I need to adjust. You’re thick as fuck.”“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch,” he sneered. “I get to set the pace here. Your ass is mine now.” I took some deep breaths, clinging to the wall as he hammered away at my tight hole. After a few moments, my hole relaxed and started to feel good — really good. His big dick exceeded my expectations. Without realizing it, I began to emit a low, rhythmic moan with each thrust that he delivered. “You better shut your fucking mouth,” Branson admonished. “I can’t risk getting caught with my cock up your ass.”I nodded solemnly, gritting my teeth as Brandon continued to use my hole. Suddenly, his breathing intensified as he began to emit a series of low grunts. It felt like his big cock was increasing in size within me. “Aww, FUCK, man … SHIT,” he growled, his hands digging into my shoulders as his balls released his load inside me. I could feel his body quaking as blast after blast of his cum flooded my guts. “Fuck, that was hot,” I exclaimed as he pulled out of me, his load washing down my leg in the warm water of the shower. “Clean yourself up,” Branson ordered, washing off his cock under the shower head, “And then meet me at the lockers. I need to talk to you.” I dutifully complied and then wrapped a towel around my waist. He was waiting for me on a locker bench, his hair wet and a towel still around him. “You don’t have to worry,” I spoke before he could say anything. “I’m not gonna run to TMZ and tell them you fucked me.”“Nah. I trust you,” Branson replied, brushing the thought aside with a wave of his hand. “My caddie quit on me this morning when I told him about the sex tape. He doesn’t want to be associated with me and all the bad press. You think you might want his job? It pays well.”“Me?” I asked incredulously. “You want me to be your caddie?”“Yeah,” Branson smiled. “I’ve got a few tours on the horizon, leading up to Augusta in April. You know the sport really well and … I kinda like you.”“Wow,” I exclaimed, unable to believe my ears. “But will you … will you want to—”“Will I want to fuck you?” Branson interrupted. “Hell YES. As much as you’d like. You’ve got a sweet cunt, and there’s a lot of long nights in hotel rooms when I’m doing tours and tournaments.”“Then I’m game,” I announced. “I’m honored to be your caddie.”“Awesome,” Branson replied, opening up his towel to reveal his big dick, which was hard again. “Now why don’t you climb on this cock so we can celebrate? I’ve got another load in these balls for you.”Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults. -- source link