" Are you free to play golf this morning? My treat." I'm not in a great mood but maybe that will get my mind off things."We agreed to meet at the club...at ten. I called the club and asked if they had a tee time open around ten-thirty. They had an open slot at eleven-oh-eight. I took it and hung up.I walked into the bathroom where Tamara was finishing her make up. I told her about Steve and she took it like I knew she would. I told her I invited him to play golf and he accepted.She finished up. I did so, looking around at the various personalities in the room, and noticing the way some of the men were inspecting me. ‘Alyssa?’ I turned at the sound of my name, instantly chastising myself for answering to it. I wasn’t Alyssa, after all. I was ‘Yvette.’ ‘Hey! I barely recognized you! Wow! Look at you!’ It took me a minute to recognize the girl before me, since I had only met her once, and that had been months ago . . . when she was with her mother and father. She was dressed in a classy. She sits furtivley on the edge of my knee, I feel the warmth of her moist pink flesh settle on me. I put a hand on her waist and guide her back until she is right up against my left side, her right thigh just inches away from my cock. Her slick cunt makes contact with my leg as hers separate, one either side of my leg. She looks down at my cock, afraid of touching it. I lift her by her right leg and waist and place her down so she is straddling me, her back resting against my chest, facing her. .”“That’d be nice.”“How do you like it?”“Cream and sugar.”“I make mine sweet,” she said.“That’ll work. I started drinking coffee by stealing sips from my great-grandmother. Old Cajuns like their coffee sweet.”I was tying the last shoelace when she handed me my mug. “This is darned good coffee, Buddy,” she said. “I’m really surprised.”“I like my coffee,” I said. “C’mon. We’ll drink it in the truck.”“Sure,” she said.She gave me a little smile when I opened the truck door for her. I walked around.
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