Green Fairway, Red Hot Christmas

The Christmas air hung thick and humid, a deceptive warmth considering the Florida temperatures. Thirty souls, a chaotic blend of ages and personalities, crammed into our expansive home, a consequence of our generosity and the unfortunate absence of our neighbors. The usual pre-lunch golf outing was in full swing, a tradition we’d upheld for years, with six couples battling for the bragging rights – and the lunch bill. This year, however, the heat and the proximity of our extended family added an extra layer of friction, a simmering tension beneath the veneer of holiday cheer. My wife, bless her, seemed to thrive on it, flaunting her athletic figure in those ridiculously tight golfing outfits, a blatant invitation that both thrilled and exasperated me. I’d catch glimpses of her white panties during her tee shots, a small, insistent reminder of her playful provocation. The other couples, oblivious to my simmering desires, added to the heat, each glance, each whispered conversation a silent challenge.

The 17th hole proved particularly potent. I was struggling, my swing off, and I knew my wife recognized it. A subtle shove, a knowing look – she’d deliberately sent my ball deep into the dense thicket lining the right side of the fairway. Without a word, we plunged into the undergrowth, the scent of pine and damp earth mingling with the salty air. As we pushed aside branches and hacked through vines, the distance between us closed, the air crackling with unspoken heat. Finally, she stopped, her hand reaching out to grasp mine. As she turned me, her fingers brushed against my chest, sending a jolt through me. Her lips met mine in a slow, deliberate kiss, a silent promise of what was to come.

"I need you," I murmured, my voice thick with desire.

"I know, ditto," she responded, her eyes locking onto mine.

Spinning her, I stripped off my shirt and shorts, leaving only my hard cock exposed. She mirrored my actions, swiftly removing her dress, revealing her own readiness. The sight of her pale skin, glistening with sweat, intensified my urges. The silence was broken only by the distant shouts of other golfers and the chirping of unseen birds. Then, without hesitation, I entered her eager, wet vagina, the sensation both shocking and exhilarating. The pleasure was immediate, a wave of heat washing over me as we intertwined our bodies.

But our momentary bliss was interrupted by my brother's booming voice. "Hey, you two! Having trouble finding that ball?" The abrupt intrusion shattered the intimate atmosphere, forcing us to break contact. Mortified, I pulled out, tucking my cock away while she smoothed down her dress, feigning nonchalance. The awkward pause stretched on, filled with unspoken longing. We completed the 18th hole, a shared sense of disappointment hanging in the air. The victory wasn’t ours, but the experience had been undeniably potent.

As we drove home in our car, the heat of the day lingered, both physically and emotionally. “That quickie was fun, but I’m so horny now," she confessed, lifting her dress slightly. "Do you like watching me masturbate?"

"Goodness, yes," I replied, my voice low and husky. "You're driving me crazy."

We arrived home just as the festivities began in full swing, the house buzzing with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses. The sheer volume of people made any further pursuit of pleasure impossible. She quickly retreated to the kitchen, her movements graceful and deliberate. As she turned to leave, she flicked her hand at me, a subtle signal. Following her back to the kitchen, I found her standing behind the counter, a vision in her golfing outfit. The heat between us intensified, the unspoken tension palpable.

We wasted no time in fulfilling our desires, ignoring the chaos unfolding around us. I moved behind her, lifting her dress and stripping off my shirt, leaving only my hard cock exposed. Before she could object, I slipped her panties into my pocket, dropping my shorts in their place. The sensation of her skin against my hand sent shivers down my spine. My cock was rock hard, primed for action. As I pushed deep into her eager pussy, the world outside faded away.

Just as we reached a fever pitch, a commotion erupted in the hallway – our son, eager to join the Playstation frenzy, burst into the kitchen. We had no choice but to abort the mission, pulling out and covering my erection hastily. The abrupt interruption left us both frustrated and wanting more.

Later, as the family gathered around the outdoor table, enjoying their Christmas lunch, my wife quietly slipped away, returning to the bedroom. There, she stood before me, her body radiating heat and anticipation. The tension thickened as she lifted her dress, revealing her skin. Without a word, we embraced, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. We moved quickly, driven by primal urges, neglecting the presence of our family. As she took off her dress, her white skin gleamed in the afternoon sun. It was time to take things further.

I stripped down, dropping my shorts and leaving only my hard cock exposed. Her response was immediate, a desperate reach for my body. The pleasure was intense, a torrent of sensation that left us both breathless. But as we neared the climax, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a swarm of children eager to join the Playstation battle. We were forced to retreat, sacrificing our intimate moment for the sake of maintaining appearances.

She smoothed down her dress, her eyes pleading for another chance. "Gosh, I really want to cum, and I want you to cum too," she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

Back in the bathroom, the air was thick with anticipation. The sounds of the family continued to fill the house, a constant reminder of our deception. As we closed the door, the tension became unbearable. She took my hand, her touch electrifying. Our tongues intertwined, a silent agreement to continue the pursuit of pleasure. I dropped to my knees, and as she lifted her dress, I felt a surge of excitement. With her eyes closed, she began to slowly stroke my body. The anticipation grew as she moved her fingers from my waist to my breasts and down to her sexy little tummy. The feeling was amazing.

Just as I was about to lose control, I heard a bang on the door. It was our son, needing to come in to join the Playstation game. We knew we had to stop, and there was no way to sneak away undetected. I pulled up my pants, and as our son entered, he asked about the coke in the garage fridge. I quickly replied, "Sure, it's in the garage fridge." All the while, my hard cock was inside my beautiful wife. We knew this wouldn’t work, but we couldn't help ourselves.

After lunch, I sent her a text message, requesting a rendezvous in our bedroom. The frustration was palpable, as we both yearned for the release that had been denied to us. When she arrived, she stood before me, her body radiating heat. We quickly made our way back to the bedroom, and without hesitation, we moved toward our desires. As she took off her dress, I felt a surge of excitement. Once her dress was gone, I dropped my shorts, revealing my rock-hard cock. Her response was immediate, a desperate reach for my body. The pleasure was intense, a torrent of sensation that left us both breathless. But just as we neared the climax, the bedroom door opened, revealing a swarm of children eager to join the Playstation battle. We were forced to retreat, sacrificing our intimate moment for the sake of maintaining appearances.

She smoothed down her dress, her eyes pleading for another chance. "God, I want you," she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

And so, we began again, our bodies intertwined, our senses heightened. The world outside faded away as we succumbed to our primal urges, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

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