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Feeling Tina’s Pussy on the Golf Course


It was early July in Shankargaon, Maharashtra. My family and I had just returned from our Diwali visit with our cousins up at Thane, just outside of Mumbai. I’d had a great time that weekend, firing off two big bags of fireworks that my uncle had bought for us. I’m talking cherry bombs and roman candles here, not the sissy stuff that they call fireworks today. This was back in 1998, that I’m talking about. I remember everything about that summer because it all started for me with that trip up to Mumbai.

I had gotten my very first consensual feel from a girl. Rohini Raut was her name, and titties were her claim to fame. Big ones, and she’d let you feel them if you bought her an ice cream. I bought her a Corneto and took her behind the Mall changing room and played with those big titties the whole time she was licking that cherry flavoured ice cream. She had on a one-piece black bathing suit and she’d only let you play with them from outside her bathing suit. It was a hot day, and she was a very quick eater of ice cream, but it was still the best money I’d ever spent on a girl.

The first thing I did when we got back home was to run over to the Shivaji Country Club and go see my cousin Narash. He was a caddy there at the golf course, and he was the family’s main arbiter amongst us friends. My mother had nine brothers and sisters, and all of them had at least three or four kids. I had so many cousins in town that it was hard to keep track of all of them. Some of them lived in Delhi and I only saw them once in awhile.

Getting back to my story, I was eighteen years old at this time, a tall, gawky, skinny teen, not having quite grown into my body as of then. I was really all arms and legs, but a fast runner, and full of piss and vinegar, as we used to say. I found my cousin Narash playing with some other Caddies. Caddies used to do that to kill time while they waited for their afternoon loop. Narash was about 20 years old at this time, a top scholar, and well on his way to becoming the first person in our immediate family to go to, and later graduate, from, University.

He was really smart. He was also ambitious, and wasn’t going to be content to work over at Electric Boat like most of my uncles had been. Even a job at the Mumbai Naval base was less than he was willing to settle for. Narash was also totally, completely and madly in love with Shri Devi, a busty movie star of that time. Every morning he’d run outside and scream her name out to the world at the top of his lungs over and over again. So anyway, I find Narash and I tell him all about Rohini Raut, mentioning that this girl had tits bigger than Shri Devi’s, which got me a dirty look from Narash. I’m telling him the best part, about her sucking on the frozen ice cream while I’m rubbing those huge melons, when the Caddymaster rounds the corner of the building.

I never knew his real name, but all the caddies called him “Chuha Chacha”, not to his face, but when he wasn’t around. I think it was his teeth, they were a little bucked, but it might just have been his personality. He had been a caddy himself a few years before, but since he’d been promoted to caddymaster, he’d become a real prick. He’d suspend guys for tiny infractions or ban them from the course for little or no reason, just because he didn’t like you. In the ’90’s, being a caddy in Bombay was a good job. I made a minimum of Rs 500 per day and usually more. To put that into some perspective for you, my father was a Havildar in the Thane Police Station at this time, and I brought home almost as much as he did when I was caddying.

We worked six days a week in the summer, because the course was always closed on Mondays for maintenance or something. Vijay Kumar was the Pro at the course in those years, and he could hit the ball a ton. He gave all the lessons and ran the pro shop and the caddyshack. “Chuha Chacha” was like an assistant-assistant pro. He had to kiss everybody’s asses. The caddies only had to kiss his ass and Vijay Kumar’s ass once in awhile. Caddies also had to shag balls when Vijay Kumar gave a lesson, and he never paid caddies for doing that. It was like a rent he charged us for keeping our job and laying around the caddyshack while we waited our turns to go out.

I’m talking to my cousin Narash when “Chuha Chacha” comes around the corner. He’s pissed off about something and he wants somebody he can yell at to make him feel better. His eyes light on me and then move to someone else. I’m not even a caddy yet, so I’m kind of beneath his notice, and not really under his thumb yet either. “You, fuckface, quit trying to hide, get your ass out to the pro shop, you’re carrying a single for Mrs. Malhotra.”

You have to understand, Mrs. Malhotra was the world’s worst golfer, the slowest, and hands down, the one person caddies most hated to caddy for. She always paid Rs. 2000 and that was the minimum for 18 holes in those days. She was slow and she used to let anyone behind her play through. No one would ever play with her. She was a terrible golfer. She was in her mid to late 50’s and it was no treat to be walking behind her, because she was somewhat obese. Like I said, I wasn’t even a caddy yet, but I felt sorry for the guy.

“No can do Caddymaster. I’m handling the round for Judge Khanna at 1:30.” At Shivaji Golf Course, and at most other courses as well, members could make bookings for their regular caddy and the management always honoured their requests.

“OK, asshole, you, shit for brains, pro shop now, Mrs Malhotra.” He was addressing my cousin when he said that.

“Sorry, caddymaster, carrying doubles at 2:00 for Dr. Khan and his wife.” My cousin was a top caddy and he only carried doubles, and was booked up for every morning and afternoon for the whole summer. It went like that until every caddy there had given his afternoon booking and “Chuha Chacha” was getting the sinking feeling that he’d get stuck with the loop himself.

“Say kid, didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a caddy once?” Now his desperate eyes were trained right on me. This was my golden opportunity here. It would require careful negotiation though, and I had to tread carefully.

“I don’t have my caddy card yet Caddymaster.”

“Fuck that, you don’t need one if I say it’s OK. Take the goddamn loop and we’ll take care of the small shit later.” I waited for a few seconds and then heard my cousin Narash speak up.

“He can’t carry bags until he gets a card, Caddymaster, thats the rule, always been the rule.”

“Fuck you guys, a bunch of smart asses, all of you. You, kid, come with me, I’ll get your card signed.” In five minutes I was a card carrying caddy at the best golf course in south Maharashtra. For the rest of that summer, Mrs Malhotra had me as her regular caddy.

It all happened because of one innocent suggestion I made to her. That first day we had made it all the way to the fourth tee and she had managed to make a 10 on the prior hole, her best effort so far. A 10 for her was like a birdy for your average golfer. The reason she made only 10 was that she actually managed to make solid contact with a mid iron and put it on the green about six inches from the hole. She made the putt too. You have to understand that I knew nothing about golf, but I did know that if we didn’t get moving faster, we couldn’t possibly finish before dark. So, I took a shot, what could it hurt, Right?

“Gee, Mrs. Malhotra, you really smacked that iron back there. Have you ever thought about teeing off with an iron and not a wood?” Now her average distance off the tee was approximately thirty, forty yards tops. She’d just hit an iron 125 yards on the last hole, so you didn’t have to be a genius to conclude she hit the irons better than the woods.

“Can you do that? Isit ¬†allowed in the rules I mean?” I took a wild guess and nodded to her in the affirmative, while reaching in her bag and handing her the same iron she’d just hit so well on the previous hole. She teed up her ball and smacked it again, right down the middle, at least a hundred and forty yards out, and was she excited. The rest of her round went very well, a bunch of eights and sevens, the occasional ten or eleven, with her all-time best, a three on a par three on the back nine that left her positively trembling with joy. At no time after the third hole did I ever put a wood in her hands. It wasn’t a fast loop, but nobody played through us either and it was a four hour around I think. I was cleaning off her club heads before giving them to the assistant to put away and Mrs. Malhotra came over and handed me a five hundread ruppes note. “For you, Manish, you’re the best caddy I’ve ever had, thanks so much. Would it be OK with you if I ask for you by name the next time?”

“Sure Mrs. Malhotra, I enjoyed it too. Ask for me anytime, I’d be happy to carry your bag.” My career as a caddy was launched and made. As long as I was willing to caddy for Mrs Malhotra, my job was also safe. She improved enough, that after a while, other women agreed to play a round with her, and so I often got to carry doubles with her. I never got another Rs. 500 from her, but she never stiffed me either, giving me at least Rs. 250 for 18 holes. The important thing is that it also got me in solid with “Chuha Chacha”, and that led me to meeting his sister, which ended up with me having a most memorable summer.

It isn’t like “Chuha Chacha” treated me good or anything, but he appreciated that, as a new caddy, I wasn’t booked up like some of the other guys and so I had time available to do him favours. Things like run to the machine and get him a soda or run over to the fifth hole and find Dr. Sharma to tell him that his wife wanted him home right away. These were little, unpaid, chores that I would do for him that some of the older, more experienced caddies were able to get out of doing.

“Shithead, come here.” The caddymaster was standing next to a girl I’d never seen before. She was wearing a blue print sundress and she was cute. She looked about 18 or 19 years old, judging by the size of her boobs, and she had a flat ass. In those days, in the circle that I ran with, a girl with a flat ass was thought to be a non virgin. “Shithead, this is Tina, my sister. She’s visiting with me today and I’m kind of busy. I want you to show her around the place, but keep away from the shack you hear me? Take her over to the seventh and show her the lake and stuff.” The next thing he did really surprised me, he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a note. “Get her a Dairy Milk and a jalebi at the snack bar, and get a soda for yourself if you want, on me.” I almost fainted when he let go of the money.

We started walking over to the snack bar, Tina and I, and she asked me what my real name was. “It’s Manish, but people call me Manu or Manny.”

“So, how old are you Manny?”

“17, 18 in November though.”

“November what?”

“17th.”

“Hah, I’m older. Mine is the tenth.”

“You’re 17?”

“Yeah, how old did you think?” She stuck her chest out proudly as she asked, daring me to say a bigger number.

“I don’t know, maybe 20. Because you’re so, so, I guess grown up looking maybe.”

“Nah, I’m only 17, but people think I’m older because I’ve got tits and all.” We got our drinks and Tina got a galebi so I bought one too, with my own money. We walked over to the lake and I showed her some of the frogs that we sometimes hunted at night after the course was closed and everyone was at home. There was a copse of birch trees over by the lake and Tina wanted to get some bark to chew on so we walked over and I cut some off for the two of us. It was nice and bitter, we both liked it that way. We had walked quite aways into the woods to find the right bark and we were out of view of anyone else as we stood there chewing our bark and making faces as we did so. “Do you want to see them?” I looked at her, not understanding what she meant. “My tits, do you want to see them?”

“Sure, I guess so.” I was a little unprepared for her boldness.

“You guess so, don’t you know whether you do or don’t?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was too pushy is all, sure I want to see them.” She slid the straps off her shoulders and dropped the top of her dress down to her waist. She was wearing a scarf or a bandanna kind of thing around her boobs, not a bra, more like a scarf or a sling for a broken arm, and it was made out of silk or something. I’d never seen one like it before, or since for that matter. She lifted the scarf up and exposed both her titties to me, a smile on her face as she watched for my reaction.

“Well, what do you think, nice ones huh?” I just stared at them, my first look at a regular girl’s tits. I’d seen both my sisters and my mom of course, but not a regular girl, not even Rohini had shown them to me.

“Wow, they’re great, the best I ever saw, even in the magazines my cousin has.” Even at 17, I knew it never hurt to pay a girl a heartfelt compliment.

“Do you want to rub them?” She moved in closer so that we were only inches apart. I was having trouble keeping my mouth wet enough to speak. Finally I managed to croak out a sound as I nodded my head in a quick up and down motion. I then reached out and put my hands on them. She gave me some directions which I followed to the best of my ability. I must have done something right because she started breathing faster and told me to pinch her nipples harder. I did it even though I was afraid of causing her pain. “You ever touch a girl’s pussy before?” I shook my head in the negative, not even daring to try to bluff my way through. “Would you like to?”

“More than anything, Tina. Can I?” Now it was her turn to nod her head up and down. I noticed that her nostrils had started opening and closing in a regular rhythm and her breathing was getting ragged. I took my left hand off of her right boob and reached down, under the hem of her dress and moved it up between her legs which were, so conveniently, wide spread. I finally made it up to where I could feel her panties. I was surprised at how warm it felt through her panties as I started to slowly knead her with my fingers. You would have thought I was preparing some dough for a pizza by the way I was squeezing her. She grabbed my hand with both of hers and began to show me how she wanted me to do it. My fingers were rubbing up and down softly, bottom to top and then moving away and back down to the bottom and beginning again. This went on for awhile before she once again grabbed my hand and separated my index finger from the rest. She then slid it under her panty leg until I felt something that was both hairy and wet. She began moving my hand, guiding me at the wrist with one hand while pushing against my finger from outside her panties with her other hand. All this time, my right hand is pulling on her nipples and pinching them really hard occasionally.

“Fuck me with your finger, Manny, push it in and out of my pussy.” She pressed hard against my finger as she tilted her hips slightly forward and my finger went right up into her in one single motion. She started to hunch up and down against my hand, holding it steady so that I could hardly move it anymore. This continued for a few minutes, my hand was getting sore as her grip on my wrist tightened. She started making weird noises soon after, her hips moving every which way and her mouth opening and closing. Her eyes tightly closed, she looked like she was in pain, and I was getting pretty scared. Suddenly, for no known reason, she just stopped and released my hand. When I tried to take out my finger she yelled for me to leave it in. I stood very still, waiting for her to tell me when it was OK for me to remove my finger. “That was a good one, you want me to suck you now?” She pulled my finger out of her and then she reached over to unbutton my fly. I tried to help her, but she waved my hands away. It didn’t take her long to open my fly and reach in and snake out my pecker. She looked at it closely, than began to rub it back and forth in both palms, like she thought it was wood and she wanted to start a fire. The next minute, without any warning, she dropped to her knees on the ground and put it right in her mouth. I’d like to claim that it gagged her, or that she had trouble fitting all of it in, but the truth was that she had no problem at all with taking me all the way, right away. It really felt good. It took only a minute or so and she must have felt it was ready because she lifted her face away and finished me off with her hand. It was the best experience I’d ever had. I had thought playing with Rohini Raut’s tits was good, but this had that beat by a country mile.

Tina was smiling at me as I bent to try to tuck my spent lund back in my briefs and button up my jeans. I wanted to say something profound to her, to let her know how much I appreciated her gifts to me, but I was at a loss for words, simply overwhelmed. I finally managed to think of something to say. “I’ll buy you another hot sweet and chocolate if you want.” It sounded even more lame when I said it.

“OK, can I get a bag of chips to go with it?”

“Sure, two if you want.”

“I like you Manny, you’re a real good sport. If I come here again, maybe you can fuck me, I bet you’d be good at it.” I looked right at her, dazed by the thing she’d just said to me. I looked down at her legs and saw parts of fallen leaves stuck to both of her knees. I kneeled down and carefully removed everything and rubbed out the creases they’d made. I straightened up and shyly took her hand as we left that little stand of birch and circled back around the lake. I didn’t let go of her hand until she had to reach in at the snack bar and take her tray of food. She got two Dairy Milk, two Pepsi and two bags of potato chips. It cost me Rs. 130, my new benchmark for the best deal I’d ever gotten in my life. I sat at an outside table with her and watched avidly as she ate all her food, pausing only long enough to wash it down with her sodas. I would have done anything she wanted me to do that day.

I guess it wasn’t meant to be though, as I never did see her again after that, and later that summer, her brother, “Chuha Chacha”, the Caddymaster left the area under a cloud of suspicion about some missing funds from the pro shop register. I’ve often thought of Tina, through all the passing years, and I have always hoped that she had an incredible life, filled with lots of adventures and happiness. The things she taught me that day have stood me in pretty good stead through this long passage of time. I learned to recognize some of the most important signals that woman give to a man too show him that she’s interested in him.

 

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