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.”