It was my yearly golf trip. My regular foursome always went to Myrtle Beach at the end of May, when the prices were cheap and the courses not so crowded. We would spend five days, and golf our brains out, drink our livers out, and eat our guts out. It was a great time.

I was 54, married, kids and had a great job. I made lots of money, and worked my ass off. My sex life had gone to hell, and all I really had was fantasy and my sturdy, strong right hand.

The first day was great; I shot 74 and was really hitting the ball solidly. My putting was working, a soft, smooth stroke and I was driving the ball like a God. Who knows why, but I knew I was going to take advantage of my newfound swing for as long as I could.

At the end of the first round, we went into the pro shop, and I saw him. He couldn't have been over 18, though he had to be 18 if he was working in the pro shop and handling money. He was short, very slim, with a full head of tousled blonde hair. My sexual past included some men, friends when I was young, and one or two in my early thirties. But none since then. I knew I liked cock, and loved being penetrated, but marriage, kids, a good job had knocked that out of the ball park of reality. In bed, at night, alone and with no one able to read my thoughts I jerked off to young men, old men, penetrating me, sticking their hot cocks in my mouth. But it was only at those times that I let these desires out.

But I did like to meet young guys so my fantasies were more real, tied to an actual person. And so I went to where he was checking in foursomes, even though the line was longer there. Finally, it was my turn. I had spent the time eyeing the young man, his bright blue eyes and creamy, white skin. He surely didn't weigh over 130 pounds and couldn't have been taller than 5'4", where I was 6'2", and about 215.

He looked up at me, "Hi, can I help you?"

Boy, I thought, could you ever "help me." But instead of saying what I was thinking, I said, "sure, checking in for the 7:52 tee time, should be under my buddy's name, McDonald."

He looked down, checked the screen of his computer and nodded, "Great, want range balls?"

I nodded, and he passed me a token to put into the range ball machine. I handed him my gold card, he smiled, and I actually felt my prick kick just a little. This kid got me hot!

"What's your name?"

I wanted a name to go with the face while I jerked off, "Tommy."

I nodded, "Well, Tommy, nice to meet you." He smiled, man was he pretty.

After the round, we pulled into the cart return area and to my surprise there was Tommy. He was cleaning carts and clubs as the golfers pulled up. I hadn't been able to see his entire body behind the counter, and he had been wearing a baggy, white collared shirt, but now he was wearing