Club Swinger

Michael tries to fix Kenzie’s swing, but she’s a lost cause and every swing just winds him tighter. His eyes wander. Gracie leans against the drink stand, smirks, waves him over. He slips away while Kenzie keeps hacking at the turf. Kenzie’s next shot rockets sideways and slaps Zariah smack on the ass. Kenzie goes red; Zariah grins, hips cocked. She wanders over, hands settle on Kenzie’s grip, breath warm on her ear, and something stiff nudges the back of Kenzie’s thigh. Their lesson turns quick and filthy. They duck into the clubhouse, clothes half-off before the door clicks. Gracie spots the grab-and-go, licks her lips, follows. Michael squints across empty fairway, scratching his head, while three women turn the locker room into a gasping, wet playground. Tongues, fingers, slick cocks sliding everywhere. They moan, laugh, come hard enough to rattle the benches. Michael stays lost on the green, and three club-swingers keep score inside.