Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26444401-20160203085851

“Have I mentioned to any of you how much I hate our golf team?” groaned Betty Lou as the purple heads stacked up behind her and the light turned a queer purple-yellow and the wind died completely. A school issued video camera rested on her shoulder like a near one hundred pound parrot. Betty Lou was part of the video yearbook for school and today; they were filming the golf team’s game on a golf green along side the freeway. Betty Lou groaned. “This is Henry’s camera, where the heck is he?”



Wanda sat on the ground, allowing the camera a nice shot of the green and the ball going into the first hole. The golf team cheered. Not their school. Villa Park. Wanda was the kind of girl whose looks one compared with a car crash. “Or Billie for that matter.”



“Henry and Fern are probably in the bathroom having a freaking grope fest,” sneered Parker coming up to the group, his camera turned off. He had been busy shooting the footage of the 18th hole.



The three classmates bundle as a cold breeze blew with the promise of rain. “And Billie probably found the best freaking thing about this golf course!” said Billie, making Betty Lou, Wanda and Parker scream with his yanked back lips and unblinking eyes. He was gasping and puffing like an old carthorse. “Are one of you going to go and get the couple of slutwhores or does ol’ Billie have to?” 



Ol’ Billie had to go and grab the couple of horny teenagers from the bathroom. He drew a breath as he entered the bathroom. The bathroom was deserted save for the moans and grunts coming from one stall and the squeaking of Henry’s sneakers. He went into the neighboring stall and peeked in at the couple of horn dogs. The porcelain throne creaked under his weight. “Hello!”



Henry screamed into Fern’s bony and pale shoulder, a combination of surprise and shooting his load. She grabbed a roll of toilet paper and threw it at Billie. “Get outta here, you zheng qi de gou shu dui!” Fern snarled partially in Chinese.



“Betty Lou, Wanda, Parker and I want to show you two something,” said Billie as he dodged the roll of toilet paper. He was ignored. Billie could be a real rude domesticated beast at times. He glanced at the silhouettes he could see from out the bathroom door- black cut out man; black cut out woman. The man had his legs apart; the woman had hers together. Pretty much the story of the human race in sign language, unless you were watching what he was watching.. “Fern will love it.”



The bathroom started to smell of sweat, sex and ass, instead of mothballs and ass. “Fern likes my dick stuffing her,” growled Henry, tossing his mane of ginger hair, moving his hips once more, and causing Fern to twitch.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“And I’d like to have a round two with no audience members,” grunted Fern, running her spidery fingers through Henry’s red hair. “Plus, it’s probably just Elmo beating VP.” Billie noticed that Fern had deep purple marks, which she wore like a second pair of panties, on her cooter. Eating out hickies?

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Billie left the stall. “Nope,” he said. “Closed down mini golf course. I found a break in the fence. You two have fun, remember, use protection unless you want little Beibers running around and me and the class will have fun at the mini golf course.”

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Fern was out of the stall before Billie could finish his little lecture, Henry was close behind her, zipping up his fly. “I told you I carried my camera around for events such as a closed down mini golf course.”

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“How often does that come up in your day to day life?” asked Henry. He had hopped for head, he knew Fern liked the start of his washtub like gut but Billie had to come bursting into the bathroom and get Fern all excited about an abandoned mini-golf course.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“Not often but you never know and look! I never knew having sex with you in some golf course bathroom would lead to an abandoned mini-golf course!” she laughed. The two guys could smell her perfume, Cinnabar, that deep, red, exotic smell of Turkish harems and fall flowers. “And this is why I bring my camera places.” It smelled better than Betty Lou and Wanda and Parker who shared the scent of a school lunch, burritos and refried beans. Fern turned her attention to Billie. “Does this place have a windmill?” Billie nodded yes. “Can you crawl into the windmill?”

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Again, Billie nodded yes and Fern threw her fist in the air, in a hell yeah motion. “You going to blow me in the windmill?” asked Henry, a question obviously for his girlfriend. He glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in that smattering of freckles across his nose.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Billie knew he’d get a bitter laugh from Henry for this. “Ewww, no, I am not sucking your pale ginger dick,” gagged Billie, who laughed. He knew the question was for Fern.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“But I will suck your pale ginger dick,” giggled Fern, she found humor in little, but Billie’s joke was funny, at least to her it was.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">They walked out into the dusk air of the golf course and Billie motioned to the group that he found Henry and Fern. “Guess what I found?” he said. “Fern and Henry! And guess what they doing!”

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“My guess would be choking on Henry’s dick,” said Betty Lou, thrusting the camera at Henry. She gazed at the mountains in the distance that were clothed in a smoky-looking haze which distorted and magnified them.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“No, they were making mini Beibers!” cooed Billie.

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">“Fern wouldn’t choke, she lacks a gag reflex,” said Henry. He pointed the camera at himself and flipped on night vision. The closer they got to the defunct mini-golf course, shades and shadows slithered over and around them, trailing wisps of damp air, stick-sweet honeysuckle wafted behind them and the acid smell of rotting leaves in front of them. “We could do our own Blair Witch!”

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<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in">Even excited with an idea, Fern’s southern twang slowed her words to a stereotypical drawl. “Blair Witch Project 3: The Porno!” said Fern as they approached the break in the chain link fence. <ac_metadata title="Mini Golf Chapter 1 (NSFW)"> </ac_metadata>