Dick Fitswell at the St Louis Country Club
by Jack Corbett

I saw a bunch of guys teeing off at the first hole and watched what they were doing. Until now I thought a club was something you used to beat someone's brains in when you felt like picking a fight. After watching a few golfers tee off I knew what I had to do. I waited my turn, teed off, then went out to pick up my ball fifty feet away. It was not a good shot but I couldn't care less. I had more important things on my mind. I kept an eye out to make sure no one was watching and carried my ball to the 18th hole. There I waited for the foursome ahead of me to finish, then put my ball six inches from the hole and putted it in.

It was time for the clubhouse bar and finding a woman to pick up. I had never seen the bartender before but he came up to me as if he had known me all his life. It was then that I noticed the tall brunette sitting down the bar with three of her friends. "What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

"How about a double shot of tequila, I replied raising my voice just high enough that the women could hear me. "I had a terrible game today, and I need something that will make me forget it."

"Hate to hear it, " the bartender replied, his voice sympathetic, but I knew he was conning me. "After all, why hsould he give a shit about how my game went?" I decided two could play the con game.

"74 for the 18 holes I replied. Terrible game."

The brunette heard me loud and clear. 74 for 18 holes is 37 for nine which is an average of 4 per hole. Outstanding. In her middle thirties, she looked like she had been around the course a few times and knew what a 74 stood for. She probably figured me for one of the top pros in the U.S. and might even approach me for free golf lessons. I must have figured right. She said loudly--------"A 74 is bad? You can give me lessons anytime."

I looked at her with that special look I had been practicing in the mirror lately----a look of pain and surprise. Then answered----"I don't think I am good enough to give you lessons but I'll buy you a drink."

Not having a moment to lose I was over there in a heartbeat. As soon as I had paid for the drinks I asked, "Can you show me around the club house? I'm new here. Just moved to St Louis."

She had obviously had a few. I like them like that since they don't know what they are doing. I knew I had to get her right away or risk losing her and I could not afford that since she was long legged and trim. Hopefully she would be tight. She showed me all around the club house. Then I asked where the men's room was. After she led me to the men's room I asked her to wait for me at the door promising I'd be quick. But I''m Dick Fitswell, the man with the plan and I had it all figured out. I was in the men's room for only twenty seconds before I came out with just the right amount of surprise on my face...another look I had carefully rehearsed in front of the mirror.

"Something's wrong with the plumbing," I told her. There's water all over the floor. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Just tell me what," she replied.

"Go in the ladies room with me and make sure no one comes in. I promise I won't take long, " but what I really meant was..."I won't take long to fuck you."

We went in there together but I knew what she really wanted. Taking her by the hand I took her to the closest stall, bent her over, and pulled her shorts right to her knees. She was one of those rich bitches. Otherwise she sure as hell wouldn't be at the St Louis Country Club. And I knew from experience that most rich bitches liked it in the ass. I had reasoned it was because they were so used to getting their way that having a man abuse them that way was a sexual turn on since it did not fall in with their life's experiences. I started in on her and was glad I didn't have any vasoline to spoil it for her. Right off she started panting, then screamed in pain as I rammed deep into her. But I am Dick Fitswell, the man after the perfect fit and assholes just don't cut it with me. It's just the means to the other end.

I pulled out of her as she gave a deep gasp, turned her around forcibly just to show her who was boss and bent her over the toilet before I entered her from the front. Suddenly we heard womens' voices inside the ladies room It was her friends. "There's a man in the stall," one of them yelled. Now that's when I really get turned on...when other people are around when I'm fucking somebody. I could hear the other women shouting as I rammed deeply into her. I laughed to myself when her head hit the toilet. It was an accident and she didn't knock herself out but I noted to myself with satisfaction that she would probably have a headache later on. But the other women kept shouting which made me thrust more violently, losing all sensation of what should have been a tight fit around my dick. It was the other women who were the turn on. Suddenly I lost it and started to come as I rocked her up against the stool.

We walked out of the stall hand in hand as her three friends stood just inside the door with those haughty looks on their faces only the rich seem to get just right. I would have taken it as a sign of disapproval with our behavior but I knew better. They were just mad that I wasn't fucking them instead. As we came up to them I pulled out four business cards and handed one to each woman. "I'm having a party this Friday night at 8 PM. Would be honored if all four of you can be there." But I was lying. I had other plans for Friday night. One of my buddies had just gotten a job as a bartender at a biker bar and I had promised myself to fuck a biker woman that night. As the woman and I walked out the door, my mind was off of her already, transporting itself to thoughts of a tall blonde riding a Harley as her breasts heaved heavily in the wind.