Wedding Heat: Hole In One (MMM) Read Free Page B

shoulder, and when he spoke
Joey felt the resonance against his back.
     
    “Just a reminder,” Remi said. He seemed much
calmer than Greg, who was hugging Joey so tight it was nearly
impossible to breathe. “No, you’re still bending your left arm.
Keep it straight.”
     
    “Keep it straight!” Greg hollered, maybe to
mock Remi and maybe just to be louder.
     
    “But it feels weird,” Joey said, straining
not to bend his arm. “Guys, damn, this feels really unnatural! I
didn’t think it would hurt so much.”
     
    “Just go with it,” Remi encouraged. “It’ll
get easier with practice.”
     
    “Plant your right foot into the ground,”
Greg said, like he was competing with Remi. “Balance on it while
you take the club back as far as you can.”
     
    Joey’s muscles twinged. He nearly jumped
when Greg’s man-purse (or “European men’s satchel,” as Greg called
it) slipped and whacked him in the thigh. The position felt weird
and wrong, and he just wanted to escape these warring golfers and
their militant advice.
     
    “Keep your eyes on the ball,” Remi said. His
voice was still very calm, but it was louder now that he was
competing with Greg.
     
    “You’re gonna take the swing now, Joey.”
Greg hugged him hard, and all he could feel was that solid cock
pummelling his ass while his left arm needled with strain. “Make
sure to turn your hips on the follow-through, okay?”
     
    “And don’t lift your head until you feel
your shoulder under your chin,” Remi added.
     
    “I was just gonna say that!” Greg
shrieked.
     
    Tightening his grip on Joey’s arms, Greg
brought them down into the swing. Of course, Joey was too afraid of
whacking Greg to go at it with any force. When his club struck
down, the ball just bounced away like a big white marble.
     
    Greg loosened his grip and stepped away from
Joey. Remi stared at the ball and didn’t say anything. Joey just
shook his head.
     
    “It’s okay,” Greg encouraged. “Try again.
Practice makes perfect.”
     
    “I don’t want to try again,” Joey snapped.
He knew why he’d made such a crappy shot, but the guys obviously
thought he just sucked. That embarrassed him so much he didn’t even
want to talk about it.
     
    Gripping his stupid golf club, Joey turned
away from the guys and took off down a wooded path by the clearing.
He marched at quite a clip, swinging his club at the tall grasses
while he crushed small branches underfoot. His chest felt tight,
like he was angry, but he didn’t know what he was angry about.
     
    Joey didn’t want to golf, he just wanted
Greg to suck his goddamn dick. Was that really too much to ask?
     
    He stopped in his track, gazing at the club
in his hand. That’s when he realized what an asshole he’d been.
Greg wanted to share this hobby with him, and all Joey could think
about was the next blowjob.
     
    Footsteps landed in the dry needles behind
him, and he turned, knowing exactly who it would be.
     
    “Hey,” Joey said, looking at Greg’s eyes
instead of his bulge. “Look, man, I’m really sorry. I’ve been
acting like a total dick.”
     
    “Yeah!” Greg shot back in his super-bitchy
voice. Then he shrugged and tilted his head. “Whatever, it doesn’t
matter.”
     
    Joey realized he hadn’t said what he was
sorry for, and he wondered if Greg thought he was apologizing for
being bad at golf.
     
    Whacking his club through the reedy grasses,
Joey tried hard to read Greg’s expression. Should he head back to
the tees and try again? He didn’t feel like it, but if that’s what
Greg wanted…
     
    “Would you ever let me fuck you?” Greg asked
casually, like Joey’s apology naturally bled into the topic.
     
    Joey’s ass tightened. His dick pulsed
against his pants. “I… I don’t know. You mean with your… in
my…?”
     
    Cackling like a crow, Greg closed in on him
and let a confident hand cup Joey’s crotch. “You’ve gone all
bashful on me, huh? Well, this guy down here