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pattern, whenever Daniel returned for business or golf, regardless of boyfriends, Paige would text first, her eagerness palpable even in digital words.

That evening, at the quiet upscale bar near his hotel, the air thick with the low hum of jazz and the rich scents of aged spirits and polished wood, Paige arrived in a tight black dress that hugged every curve like a second skin. The neckline plunged daringly, her 34DD breasts straining against the fabric, the hem riding high on her toned thighs. Her blonde hair fell loose in soft waves, still carrying that vanilla shampoo now mingled with a fresh layer of perfume. They shared fruity cocktails for her, tart cranberry and citrus bursting on the tongue with sweet vodka warmth, and whiskey neat for him, smoky oak rolling smoothly down his throat. Conversation flowed from golf hazards to her modeling dreams and the grind of his start-up, but beneath the table, her hand brushed his thigh, fingers tracing higher with teasing pressure. His own fingers found the soft, sensitive inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse quicken to a rapid flutter against his thumb.

After two drinks, her cheeks flushed and breath warm, she leaned close, lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "I don't usually do this... but your hotel is close, right?" Her voice trembled with anticipation.

In his suite, the heavy door clicked shut with finality, sealing them in cool, dimly lit privacy, faintly scented with hotel linen and his cologne. Paige surged against him immediately, kissing hungrily, her lips soft, plush, tasting of cranberry vodka and the underlying sweetness of her lip gloss. Her hands roamed his chest, nails lightly scraping as she tugged his shirt open, palms flattening over the hard ridges of muscle still faintly warm from the day's exertions. Daniel lifted her dress over her head in one smooth motion. Black lace barely contained her heavy breasts, the cups straining, and beneath, no panties, her fully shaven pussy already glistened with arousal, the smooth lips swollen and slick. The faint vanilla shampoo mingled intoxicatingly with the warm, musky aroma of her growing wetness as he backed her toward the king bed, the plush carpet soft underfoot.

He freed her breasts, cupping their full, heavy weight in his palms, thumbs circling the large, sensitive nipples before sucking one deep into his mouth. His tongue swirled hotly around the peak, teeth grazing lightly, drawing sharp, needy gasps from her throat. Simultaneously, his fingers parted her smooth, slick folds, circling her swollen clit with firm, slick pressure that made her hips jerk. Paige moaned into his mouth, soft pants deepening into throaty, desperate gasps, her breath hot and ragged against his lips as her hips ground against his hand. She dropped to her knees on the plush carpet, the fabric whispering against her skin, and freed his thick, throbbing cock. Her mouth enveloped him eagerly, hot, wet, sloppy sucks that pulled him deep, her tongue flattening along the sensitive underside, cheeks hollowing as her blonde waves brushed teasingly against his thighs. Saliva glistened on his shaft; she hummed low in her throat at the first salty bead of precum, savoring it with visible delight, the vibration sending jolts through him.

Daniel pulled her up gently, laid her back on the cool sheets, and spread her legs wide, exposing her glistening, shaven pussy to the air. He rubbed the broad head of his cock along her slick folds, coating himself in her warm juices, the wet sounds intimate and obscene, before thrusting deep in one smooth, powerful stroke into her tight velvet heat. Paige gasped sharply, back arching off the bed, walls pulsing rhythmically around his length in immediate welcome. He fucked her missionary first, slow, deliberate, deep thrusts that let her feel every thick inch stretching her, withdrawing almost fully before plunging back, her huge breasts bouncing heavily with each impact. Then he flipped her onto her stomach, hips raised high, ass presented perfectly, round, firm, and inviting. Grabbing fistfuls of her loose blonde hair like reins, he yanked gently to arch her spine, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and pounded from behind. His hips slapped loudly against her jiggling flesh, the wet, rhythmic smacks filling the room. He spanked her, sharp left cheek, harder right, leaving blooming pink handprints on her fair skin that warmed under his palm. Her moans escalated from breathy gasps to throaty cries, sweat beading along her spine and carrying the mingled scents of coconut lotion and raw, heady sex.

Paige came first, her walls clenching in powerful, rhythmic pulses around him, gushing warm, slick juices that coated his shaft and dripped down her thighs. Her cries were muffled into the pillow, her body shaking violently as waves crashed through her. Daniel thrust through her spasms, prolonging the pleasure until she trembled uncontrollably, oversensitive and whimpering. Sensing his own edge building, he pulled out and flipped her onto her back. Paige tilted her face up eagerly, mouth open, tongue extended, her favorite kink lay bare. He stroked his slick cock twice and erupted in thick, hot ropes across her cheeks, full lips, forehead, and tongue. She savored the warm, salty taste immediately, licking what she could reach, then rubbing the rest sensually into her skin, her dazed, blissful smile glistening with pearly fluid on her flushed face. They collapsed together, breathing raggedly and in sync, bodies slick with shared sweat. She curled against him briefly, skin hot and damp, before dressing with a lingering, deep kiss, tasting of him still, and slipped out into the night. These trysts repeated with addictive regularity whenever Daniel returned to Fairway Oaks, boyfriends remaining blissfully unaware, her appetite for him undiminished and voracious.

Dominique Lancaster - Rolling Hills Country Club

On the back nine at Rolling Hills, the golden hour light casting long shadows and warming the air with the scent of freshly mown grass, Daniel flagged down Dominique Lancaster's cart. The twenty-two-year-old mixed-race beauty (African American/Caucasian), 5'6", had brunette hair with sun-kissed highlights cascading over her shoulders, her polo hugging her firm 36B breasts, and the short skirt accentuating the rounded firmness of her ass. Her warm brown skin glowed with a natural radiance, faintly dewy from the heat.

She handed him a cold drink, condensation dripping coolly over his fingers. "You look like you could use something to cool off." "The view is already doing that," he replied, letting his eyes trace her form appreciatively. She blushed, a warm flush spreading across her cheeks, but flirted back, praising the smooth power of his swing and asking about his travels. They teased about thirsty golfers and over-eager tips; he complimented the way the golden light played in her highlights. By hole 14, leaning close enough that her perfume, light floral with hints of jasmine, mingled with his own scent, she murmured, "I get off at 6:30. Nice Italian place nearby... if you're free." This marked the beginning of repeated flings, no matter if she was seeing someone, Dominique cleared her schedule when Daniel returned, drawn irresistibly.

At the dimly lit trattoria, rich with the aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh herbs, Dominique wore a fitted red dress that clung to every curve, the plunging neckline revealing smooth brown skin and the swell of her breasts. Over wine, deep, tannic red that stained her lips, and pasta, the flavors bursting with savory garlic and rich tomato on their tongues, they spoke of her modeling gigs and his PhD stresses. Her foot slid slowly up his calf beneath the table, the smooth skin warm; his hand rested high on her thigh, fingers tracing the soft inner flesh until her breath hitched. Dessert remained untouched as she leaned in, voice husky, "Your hotel is closer..."

In his suite, Dominique pushed him firmly against the wall, kissing her lips full and plush, tasting of red wine and underlying heat. She stripped quickly, revealing a thin landing strip of dark hair above already wet, swollen lips. The rich, feminine musk of her arousal filled the room, heady and intoxicating, as she straddled him on the bed's edge in cowgirl position. She ground her slick, warm pussy along his full length first, coating him thoroughly in her juices, hips rolling with teasing expertise, her firm ass spreading invitingly against his thighs. Then she sank down slowly, taking every inch into her tight, enveloping heat, both of them shuddering with a shared, low moan as her walls stretched around him.

Dominique bounced vigorously, the slap of her ass against his thighs loud and rhythmic, her breasts jiggling enticingly in his face. She switched to deep, grinding circles, hips rolling expertly, the thin landing strip brushing his skin, his cock stirring every sensitive spot inside her. Daniel sucked and nibbled her nipples hard, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive peaks, drawing louder, breathier moans that fractured into gasps. Sweat beaded on her collarbone, mixing her floral perfume with the sharp, tangy scent of sex. She whispered how good he felt inside her, words breaking apart as her breath quickened.

She came hard while grinding fully down, walls pulsing rhythmically and clenching in strong waves around him, a keening cry escaping her lips as her body shook violently. Loving the sensation of cream pies, she kept riding through her orgasm, clenching deliberately to milk him as Daniel erupted deep inside, hot, thick pulses filling her completely. She rocked gently afterward, savoring the warm flood spreading within her, drawing out every throb until they both trembled. Foreheads pressed together, breaths synchronized and heavy, she rose flushed and glistening, kissing him deeply before leaving with a whispered promise via text. Encounters recurred every visit, her relationship status irrelevant to the magnetic draw between them.

Jennifer "Jenny" Collins - Pine Valley Golf Resort

At the turn on Pine Valley's course, the air alive with pine and earth, Daniel met Jenny Collins, twenty-three, Caucasian, 5'11" with deep auburn red hair waving softly and matching a neatly trimmed patch above her sex. Her 34C perky, enhanced breasts sat perfectly on her frame. Her sultry voice greeted him, "Need anything to keep going?"

"Just the sight of you is fuel enough." She laughed, tossing her red hair; they discussed the course's difficulty, her long, toned legs shifting as she moved. He complimented her figure openly and the natural red details. She glowed under the appreciation, her voice turning huskier. By the 15th hole, "Done at 8. Rooftop bar at Marriott... join me?" Ongoing flings began, and Jenny found her way to his hotel, whether single or attached, hunger unabated.

At the rooftop bar, city lights sparkling below like scattered jewels, Jenny wore an emerald dress that shimmered against her pale skin. Cocktails were intimate, hers fruity and sharp, his smooth, while they discussed her post-surgery confidence and his routine. Her hand slid under the table, fingers tracing his thigh; his rested high on hers, feeling the warmth build. After one drink, "Your room has a better view."

In his suite, Jenny pulled him straight to the bed in missionary, legs lifted high over his shoulders, folding her body for maximum depth. He entered slowly, savoring the exquisite tightness, the trimmed red pubic hair tickling the base of his cock. A coppery-sweet aroma of her arousal surrounded them as he thrust powerfully yet controlled, bottoming out with each stroke. Her perky breasts bounced rhythmically; he sucked and gently bit the sensitive nipples, heightened after surgery, kneading the firm globes as she moaned deeply, throaty sounds fracturing higher and needier. Red hair splayed wildly across the pillows. Heels dug into his back, urging him deeper.

She came intensely, legs trembling violently, walls clamping strongly around him in powerful spasms, slick juices coating the red patch and his shaft, cries shuddering through her body. Daniel maintained his rhythm through her climax, drawing it out, then pulled out. Jenny took him deep into her mouth, skilled, eager sucking with tongue swirling expertly, throat relaxing to take him fully, moaning around his length as she savored the mixed taste of herself and his precum. He erupted; she swallowed the first hot pulses greedily, then let the rest splash warmly across her tits, collarbone, and neck, thick ropes glistening on pale skin. She rubbed it sensually into her breasts, licking remnants from her fingers with satisfied eyes. They kissed passionately afterward, legs draped over each other, bodies cooling with mingled sweat, sex, and fulfillment scents heavy in the air. Meetings continued whenever he was in her city, their shared hunger undiminished.

These golf-course introductions opened endless doors into Daniel's voracious bachelor life. The cart girls were mere fractions of his countless conquests, flight attendants whose layover uniforms were peeled away in haste, executives whose conference professionalism dissolved into sweat-slicked moans, bartenders whose dim-lounge flirtations turned primal, app matches forever marked by his touch. His charm, sculpted physique, and unmatched stamina left every woman satisfied yet craving more. The repeated, no-strings hotel flings with Paige, Dominique, and Meeting women on the golf course led Daniel into a life full of casual encounters. The cart girls were just a small part of his many flings—there were also flight attendants, executives, bartenders, and app matches who all remembered him. His charm, fit body, and stamina left women wanting more. The regular, no-strings hotel meetings with Paige, Dominique, and Jenny showed just how much he embraced his bachelor lifestyle during those years.

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