mason mount stories!

on the golf course (18+)

summary: mason's attempting to teach you how to play golf and thanks to your outfit, he ends up teaching you a lesson other than golf. inspired by that picture of mason on the golf course that i can't find now and it's pissing me off

warnings: 18+, minors dni. swearing, oral (m), choking (blink and you'll miss it), daddy kink, dom!mason, overstimulation (kinda), rough(ish) sex, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!!). i think that's it?

word count: 2.7k xx

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there was something about watching mason play golf that made your stomach do backflips. you weren't sure whether it was the all black combination that he was so fond of, or if it was the way he pulled the singular glove onto his hand as he prepared for his next tee. either way, you'd never found him more attractive than you did when you joined him on the course.

today was one of those days, he'd dragged you along while you were on a short, summer break in the countryside so you could spend some well deserved time together — just you two in a large but quiet hotel complex and country club that kept out prying eyes. you didn't mind being dragged along to watch him play, even though you couldn't really play yourself, but you enjoyed watching him nonetheless.

you'd dressed simple but very impractical for a lesson with mason, a short little peach coloured tennis skirt that barely covered your bum and a cropped v-neck top that highlighted the contours of your breasts, and mason couldn't keep his eyes off of you. you wore a matching cap and gloves to him, but yours were peachy pink while his were black, and you'd rented out some blue golf clubs from the country club while he'd brought his own.

"look who's winning," you stuck your tongue out as you checked the scoresheet. you were playing at one under par while mason was one above on the tenth hole, and although you knew he'd win in the end you intended to keep striking while the iron was hot. he jabbed your rib cage with the edge of his club.

"beginners luck," he retorted, an irritated scowl on his face. "now c'mere so we can move on." you pulled the putter from the bag beside you and walked over to him on the green, a spring in your step.

you found your ball, on the edge of the green and lined up in front of your boyfriend. you were pretty sure you could do the swinging and putting on your own now, but you played it off as if you still needed mason's help to stroke his ego. you kept your legs bouncy after a telling off from mason again for locking your knees, and bent over the club slightly. your bum pressed against his crotch and as it did so he groaned, trying desperately to suppress the urge to fuck you right there. you knew the skirt was taking a toll on him — you'd bought it specifically for this getaway because you knew he was going to drag you onto the course, and if he had his way he would've locked the door to the hotel room and fucked you in the skirt as soon as you strolled out in it.

"what's up masey?"

he rolled his eyes and his stance mimicked yours, his arms pressed against yours as his hands clasped yours on the metal of the putter. he guided your swing, still with a frustrated purse to his lips, and when the ball rolled directly into the hole first time he let out a long, hot breath on your back. you straightened up and his gloved hand flicked up the flimsy material of your skirt, and he caught sight of the royal blue thong you'd placed on underneath. your breath caught in your throat when he lifted the skirt up briefly again to get a better look.

"what's wrong?" he questioned, eyes meeting yours. "i've had to stand here for ten holes acting as if seeing you in that fuckin' skirt doesn't have an affect on me, and to top it off you're wearing that flimsy bit of lace underneath it."