So, there I was, standing on the first tee at the club, ready to enjoy a round of golf with Betty and Tom. I’d seen Betty at the gym a few times—hard not to notice someone with a physique like hers. I might’ve thrown a few glances her way, but who wouldn’t? And Tom is the guy you’d expect to find on the 19th hole rather than the weight bench. He made it clear from the start that his idea of a workout was lifting a beer, not dumbbells.
The first round with them went as smoothly. We laughed, shared stories, and by the time we were sipping drinks afterward, we’d already made plans to do it again. Tom and Betty were a great pair—Betty with her lively banter and Tom with his dry, almost deadpan humor. I genuinely liked them both.
A few rounds later, Tom had to leave after nine holes to hop on a Zoom meeting. That left Betty and me to finish up the back nine. Now, I wasn’t disappointed by the turn of events; Betty was good company, and there’s something about a round with just two people that makes the conversation flow a little more freely. We joked around and chatted about life, and by the time we were walking up to the 18th green, Betty got a text from Tom.
“He says we should come by our place for a drink,” she said, flashing a smile. “It’s just five minutes from here.”
Now, a cold drink after a hot day on the course? That’s not an offer you turn down. We arrived at their place, and Tom had already whipped up a couple of Manhattans. Betty grabbed hers and said she was going to take a shower. I didn’t think much of it—figured she just wanted to cool off after the heat.
Tom and I settled into the leather armchairs, sipping our drinks, and naturally, the conversation drifted back to golf. We covered everything from our recent round to the Masters Tournament. But then, Tom’s tone shifted, giving me this look—one part nervous, two parts intrigued.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, lowering his voice like we were in on some great secret. “You’ve got to promise to keep it in the strictest of confidence.”
I’ve been in enough locker room chats to know this could go anywhere, but curiosity got the best of me. “Of course,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know you all that well, but I’m flattered you trust me enough to share.”
Tom took a deep breath, clearly gearing up for something big. “Betty and I…well, we’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. You’re funny, and you seem very open-minded.”
That’s when I knew this wasn’t just a casual confession about the slice he couldn’t fix.
“I like watching my wife with other men,” he finally said, the words tumbling out like he’d been holding them back for years.
I nearly choked on my Manhattan. It wasn’t the usual post-golf talk, but I’ve always been the type to hear someone out. “Is that so?” I said, leaning in, more intrigued than ever.
Tom nodded, looking relieved to have said it out loud. He explained how this was something they both enjoyed, a dynamic that had brought them closer, not farther apart. It was like listening to someone describe the finer points of a golf swing—you might not be into it yourself, but you can appreciate the passion and precision involved.
“Well,” I said after he’d finished, “That’s certainly… different.”
Tom chuckled, clearly relieved that I wasn’t running for the door. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he assured me. “We just thought you’d be the kind of guy who’d understand.”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel complimented or concerned, but I managed to smile. “Well, Tom, I’m always up for a new experience—on or off the golf course.”
We laughed and clinked glasses, and Betty reappeared, fresh from her shower, looking as relaxed as ever. The three of us continued our conversation with a new layer of understanding between us. Betty sat beside me on the arm of the chair and asked if I was comfortable with them; I said I was, and she then leaned in and gave me a very passionate kiss. Tom excused himself to walk the dog. Betty assured me that I would hardly even notice Tom when we played. At that point, she grabbed my hand and led me up to the playroom. We kissed and fondled each other, and pretty soon, we were naked on the bed. I noticed Tom outside of the room. Betty grabbed a condom; I went soft as soon as I put it on. Performance anxiety was brought on by the fact her husband was watching. Betty assured me it had happened in the past, but it would get better as I got more comfortable. She instructed me to open the bedside table drawer, and it was full of toys. She said pick a toy and make me come with your mouth and the toy. I did that, and within a couple of minutes, she was moaning and quivering, then exploded into the loudest, wettest orgasm I think I’ve ever witnessed! She looked at me and said, “ I think we will get along just fine!”
As I drove home later, I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh at the turn my day had taken. Will I be back ? Hell Ya!
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