Mini Golf Meet | NEON LIT

Mini golf at the adventure park—stag do activity that I was regretting. Until the hen party showed up.

They were loud, drunk, and commandeering the windmill hole we were waiting for. But Tanya was different. Quieter. Watching me while her mates screamed at plastic obstacles.

"Your lot are mental," I said.

"So are yours." She nodded at my mates, currently trying to hit balls into each other. "Stag?"

"Best man duties. You?"

"Maid of honour. Similar torture." She lined up her shot. "Bet you a fiver I get a hole in one."

"You're on."

She did. First try.

"Double or nothing," she said. "Next hole. Loser buys drinks."

By hole eight, I owed her thirty quid. By hole twelve, we were hiding behind the fake castle.

"I'm good at games," she explained, kissing me between sentences. "Very competitive."

"I noticed."

She was curvy, proper thick, squeezed into a tight dress that was more hen party than golf course. L-plates still pinned to her chest.

"Bride's cousin. Barely know her. But free prosecco, so." She pulled me closer. "Fancy a different kind of hole in one?"

"Christ."

"That's a yes?"

The fake castle had a maintenance door. Dark inside, smelling of plastic and summer heat. She pushed me against the wall.

"Been watching you all night," she said, hiking up her dress. "Those arms. That smile. Knew you'd be worth the chase."

"You caught me."

"I always win."

Her dress came up, revealing no knickers underneath—just bare, ready, wetness already on her thighs.

"Hen party dare," she grinned. "Useful though."

I dropped to my knees, buried my tongue in her. She came fast, hand over her mouth, legs shaking.

"Inside me—quick—someone might come—"

I stood, freed myself, pushed in. She was tight, hot, and wrapped a leg around me immediately.

"Harder—yes—"

We fucked in that plastic castle, her moans echoing. She came twice more, each time clenching around me.

"Close—inside—"

I came deep, holding her against the wall.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Tanya? You in there? We're doing shots!"

"Coming!" she shouted. Then to me: "One more thrust. Quick."

We rejoined our groups like nothing had happened. She winked at me across the course.

"You still owe me thirty quid," she said later.

"Name the bar."

"Name the hotel room after."

Best stag party I ever didn't want to attend.