I paused. I started to pull up my pants, but she grabbed my arm and said, “Oh no! Sex Near by. She tied the ends of her blouse behind her back, and played the hole with those lovely boobies teasing me with every shot. I blushed and stuttered and all that came out was, “A par four.”
The drive to the next hole was in a hollow that followed a dry creek bed. As my hand started down my pants, she just started cheering me on. When she regained her composure, she looked at me and said, “You know what that means, don’t you?” I looked at my ball sitting only yards from where we stood, and noticed that it hadn’t reached the women’s tee. My putt was a 10-footer, and hers was slightly less. She moved closer, took my hands and placed them on her hips, on her panties. We both were catching our breath when. But the funny thing about golf, the harder you swing, the poorer the shot. Her hands moved slowly over her breasts, lifting them as she gyrated in front of me. She turned, lined up her putt, and hit it confidently.
