Autographed

AUTOGRAPHED

Here’s something that happened a number of years ago that I haven’t told anyone about until now.

I was going with a nice young man named Charlie. We were both in college and had advanced to where we were having sex. Where we went to school and with the girls I hung with, we were all pretty liberal about sex. It was no big deal to go on a date and let the guy fuck you, if you liked him. So, Charlie was getting plenty of pussy from me.

Charlie was on the school golf team. I followed him around the course a few times and we often watched the PGA tournaments on TV. It would be on while we were screwing on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Sometimes he would pause mid-stroke to watch some golfer’s stroke on TV. Charlie liked a number of the pros. He would watch how they did things and try to pick up hints. I enjoyed watching the competition with him but didn’t focus on their strokes as much as I did Charlie’s. Charlie had some favorite players, but there was one golfer who he particularly liked. I thought the guy was really cute, so I liked him too. I’m not going to mention his name.

I would tease Charlie about how, when he made the pros, he’d have women chasing him all the time. He said he wouldn’t need anyone but me. I asked him if he would be able to keep his hands off all the women that would throw themselves at him and he said he would, but then he said, “Well most of the time.”

“Just think, you will be able to have any woman you want once you are rich and famous.”

He just smiled, thinking about it. “I’d play a lot of golf too.”

“How many holes would you play each week?”

He just laughed.

Later I wondered, “How can a woman throw herself at some guy just because he is famous? I just can’t understand it.”

Charlie asked, “If it was me, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s different. I already know you.”

He asked, “What if it was (our favorite golfer)?”

I replied, “That is an interesting proposition. Would I ‘do it’ for our ‘dreamboat’ favorite pro. Maybe.” I said. I wondered if I really would.

Charlie made love to me and I called him by the golfer’s name to tease him. He laughed, but the thought turned-me-on and we had a particularly vigorous love-making session.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, a few weeks later, there was a pro-am, charity tournament at a nearby country club. It so happened that our favorite golfer was one of the pros who were sponsoring the tournament. Charlie was disappointed that he couldn’t attend because he had to be out of town with the golf team for the conference championships.

I liked watching golf and the idea of seeing our idol and a few other pros was interesting. I decided to go. The tournament was a charity event, open to the public, so I got a ticket to attend the practice round before the actual tournament. It was an easy ticket to get since it was during the week, in the morning, fit with my class schedule and was less expensive.

Charlie was jealous that I was going to the local tournament and would be able to see our favorite player, up close and live. He teased me that I was going to be one of the golf groupies who followed the pros and tried to snag one of them.

I laughed and coyly said, “Well, you never know.”

I went out to the course that Wednesday and wandered around, watching the golfers. In the practice area, I recognized a few of them from TV. They looked Otele gelen escort like regular people in person as opposed to their star-quality on TV. Our favorite was there. I tried to get closer so I could get his autograph, but they were restricting access while the players were practicing.

Only a few of the pros took advantage of the practice round opportunity. It was a cool day and since it was just a charity event, there was no money involved for the pros. They all got an appearance fee and favorable publicity.

I walked around the course and found a nice elevated location under some trees where I could see the action on a few holes. My spot was halfway between the sixteenth tee and green. It was a par four with a wicked dog leg. I was at the elbow of the dog leg where I could see the tee and the green. By early afternoon, I was the only one left and was getting ready to leave when I saw our favorite golfer playing the fifteenth hole. I wanted to see him play so I stayed where I was. He was by himself and I thought that maybe I could get an autograph from him.

He teed off and hit his ball into some deep rough right in front of where I was sitting. He came up the fairway, carrying his bag and began to look for his ball.

I was in heaven when he spoke to me, asking if I had seen his ball. I pointed to where it had landed and I walked closer to watch him hit it. He hit the ball toward the green.

I asked, “Could I get your autograph? You are my and my boyfriend’s favorite player.”

He stopped and talked to me, “Where is your boyfriend.?”

“He’s on the university golf team and they have a match out of town.”

‘Well, I’m glad you came.”

He asked my name and was really nice. I was wearing a tube top and I noticed his eyes focusing on my chest. I wasn’t wearing a bra and my nipples were poking through. With my short-shorts, I was showing a lot of leg, too. I hadn’t thought about what I was wearing, I’d just thrown something on.

I said, “My boyfriend Charlie watches you every week on the tour. I watch with him.”

He looked at me and said, “If he has any sense, he should be watching you rather than me hitting the stupid little ball.”

I was talking before thinking, giggled and said, “Well, he does both. We’re usually in bed when we watch golf.”

He laughed at that.

He noticed that I had a few bottles of water with me and he asked if he could have one. I gladly handed him one of the bottles. We talked for a bit more, he asked what I was studying and how I liked school. He was just so nice.

I said something about him being busy with all he had to do.

He said, “Despite all the people around us, it can be lonely.”

I said, “I heard you were engaged. Does your fiancé travel with you?”

He said, “Well, unfortunately, we’re on the outs right now, so I’m by myself.”

Not thinking again, I said, “I’m sure any girl would be delighted to keep you company.”

He caught my unintended meaning. He smiled and asked, “How old are you?”

I said, “Nineteen, almost twenty.” I was enchanted by him and wasn’t sure what I was doing. “Why?”

“I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

I knew what he meant. He thought I was coming on to him and he was signaling his willingness. I could’ve been insulted, but I was so enamored with talking to such a nice, important man that I didn’t mind. In fact, I took it as a Rus escort compliment that he would consider me interesting. Like I said earlier, having sex with a guy I liked was not such a big deal.

He asked, “What do you have for me to autograph?”

“I don’t have any paper or anything with me.”

He suggested, “I could sign your top.”

I nodded and he laughed and stepped toward me. I was so close to him; I was so flattered by his attention.

He put his hand on my breast and prepared to sign his name across my tube top. Having his hand on my tit was amazing. Then, he surprised me by pulling-down my top and uncovering my chest. My breasts sprung free. My nipples were so hard and my areolas had goose-bumps. He put his hands on my breasts and signed with the sharpie, first name on one, last name on the other. I thought it was very clever the way he had done it and I didn’t mind him seeing my boobs. After all, he was a famous golfer and a really cute guy. His warm hands felt so good on my tits.

He smiled and looked at me. He asked, “Are you on the pill?”

Now I knew for sure what he wanted. I nodded yes.

His hands moved to his belt which I took as another signal. I did something on impulse that I thought I would never even have considered doing. I dropped to my knees in front of him and reached for his pants. He didn’t protest when I undid his belt and the buttons on his trousers. I unzipped him and his semi-hard cock popped out. I took it in my hand, gave it a few strokes and then put it in my mouth. He looked around to be sure nobody could see us. We were off the fairway in a wooded area. I looked at his cock, wondering if it was special, since he was a famous celebrity. It looked like a regular-old cock to me, but it was beautiful.

He rubbed my head while I continued to suck his dick and told me what I was doing felt good. I was dazzled by the guy and the realization that I was giving this famous golfer a blow job was surreal. I held his balls in my hand, proud of myself for having a famous man’s nuts in my palm. I swirled my tongue into the little hole at the tip and licked the underside of his dick. I looked again, for signs that his penis was somehow special. I decided that it was special since I had it in my mouth. I pressed my lips around the shaft and bobbed my head. I pushed forward and took the fat head into my throat. It made me proud to hear the groans of pleasure coming from him. His hips were rocking, pumping his cock into my throat. His cock was shiny and wet with my saliva. I was sure he’d had other women suck his cock, so pleasing him fed my ego.

I was doing pretty well until he stopped me. He helped me to my feet. I thought we were done, until he turned me around and pulled down my shorts and panties. I realized that he wanted to fuck me. Wow, I was thinking. Wouldn’t it be neat to be fucked by a famous pro golfer. I kicked off my shorts and panties and leaned against a tree. I spread my legs. He took a moment to take in the spectacle of my naked ass and the tuft of hair peeking between my legs.

His famous cock stood proudly and it quickly found its mark. I had gotten nice and wet while sucking his dick so he slid right into my cunt. I kept my ass high for him so he had a good angle of approach. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his celebrity-cock inside me. His hips banged against my ass and I felt his shaft sliding along Sincan escort the walls of my vagina. He began to pump faster and I began to come, anticipating him ejaculating inside me. He pushed forward and I felt the spurts from his cock splashing against my cervix. The sensation of a man’s naked cock sliding against then erupting against my inner flesh is about the best feeling in the world.

He stopped pumping and slowly withdrew his prick. Some of his semen dripped out of me. I was naked except for my shoes and socks and my displaced halter-top. I turned around. He smiled and said, “Thank you. That was wonderful.” I hoped he really meant it. His comment did wonders for my self-esteem. I’ve reflected on it over the years and still am amazed that I was so pleased to be considered a good fuck by a famous man.

I put my shorts on and redid my top. While I was doing that, he was writing. He handed me his scorecard for the course.

It had the numbers of his score through fifteen holes. Then he had a zero with a circle around it on 16; I assumed it designated a ‘hole in one’. He’d scored, for sure. His phone number was on the card.

He said, “If you’re not busy tonight, I could use some company. Call me.”

I blushed and took the scorecard. I was too scared to answer. He kissed me, lingering for a moment to taste my mouth.

He thanked me for the bottle of water and was on his way, whistling as he walked.

I finished dressing and looked at his autograph across my breasts. I thought about never washing it off. I would have to save it for my boyfriend. I had the scorecard and noticed that somehow, a dab of his cum had stained it in the corner.

I chickened out. I was too scared to call him. I wonder if I had, might there have been a relationship or was he just looking for someone to fuck for the night.

Later, I heard that he was still engaged, despite what he’d said, so I was probably just a piece-of ass for him. Nevertheless, I have always been proud of myself for being considered a nice piece-of-ass for a famous celebrity golfer, and he has become even more famous.

I didn’t bathe for two days until Charlie returned. When he and I got together that night. I told him how I had met our favorite golfer and I had gotten his autograph. Charlie just about choked when I pulled my shirt off to show him the autograph. He was amazed and took a photo so we would remember, knowing that eventually, the writing would fade from my chest.

I didn’t tell him about blowing and fucking his hero, of course. It didn’t matter anyway because Charlie had hooked up with a bitch from the girls’ golf team on his trip. A week later, he dropped me. He never made it as a pro and I have lost track of him.

I marred a nice man a few years later and I’ve told him about my golf adventure along with a few other of my exploits of a sexual nature.

I can’t tell you the golfer’s name because he’s famous, married and I don’t want to cause him any trouble. He’s still my favorite and when I see him play, I tell my friends that I met him once. I leave out the part about the autograph, and the sucking and fucking.

I still have the scorecard with his phone number, the cum stain and the marks showing that he had holed-out with me. I look at it occasionally and wonder what might have been.

A few weeks ago, we were watching golf and my special player was winning. I teased my husband about the golfer screwing me. He jumped me and we were soon making love on the rug beside our TV.

I asked if he was jealous and he said no. “I won because I have you and he doesn’t.”

He had a sharpie in his hand and after he came, he autographed my ass.