When I was younger, I played golf, not just for pleasure, as I do now, but as my employment. I was an Assistant Professional at several golf courses before I left the business.
At one of those courses, there was a female Assistant Professional, as well. Our boss, the Director of Golf, had nicknames for us. My name starts with D, and I was the older (22) and senior Assistant, so I was D1. Dorothy, the other Assistant, was D2, or Dot.
And Dot was hot. I always thought she looked a lot like Diane Lane, but with more freckles, and curlier hair. Oh, and much bigger tits. That may have been another reason for her D2 designation, but DD would have been selling her magnificent chest short.
Playing golf with Dot could be very, very distracting. She was 21, about 5'4" tall, with a nice firm ass, and decent legs. I would guess she weighed maybe 120. She was also very flexible, and her follow through, in the classic reverse C position, pointed her huge knockers up to the sky. Put simply, no one who played with her ever watched her shot, as that finish position put her big tits on display. I know I was always peeking, and she knew it.
She was also a tease. She would flash her ass, under her short skirt, while bending to pick up her ball.
I worked with her for three years, and toward the end of that time, her teasing increased. It was then I decided to act on it.
We were pretty evenly matched, game wise. I had the obvious length advantage, but that was largely equalized by the shorter Ladies Tees. I hit better wedges; she hit more accurate mid-irons. She was a great chipper; I was the better putter. All in all, it was a toss up.
This club we worked at was a private club, so it was pretty quiet a lot of the time. I was off that day, and Dot had worked the morning shift. We teed off about one.
Dot was leaning on her driver, waiting for me to tee off. "So, what are we playing for?" she asked. Usually, it was lunch, or something along those lines.
"I don't know," I replied, "but I think we should make it more interesting than lunch." We usually played skins, and match play with a stroke total kicker. That made 18 individual bets, with the match play winner as the 19th, and the stroke play winner making 20. We also paid bonuses for birdies or better. Plenty of chances to get even. "How about 'truth or dare'?"
This obviously came as a surprise to her. A surprise, but not a problem. It only took a few seconds of calculating the odds for her to agree. She extended her hand, and we shook on it.
The first hole was a 565 yard par 5, dogleg left off the tee, over a nasty bunker in the corner of the dogleg. I had planned to hit a draw, over the corner, off the right edge of the bunker, but I tugged it a bit left, and didn't catch it solid. I was fortunate not to be in the bunker, but I was in the rough left of it.
Dot walked up to the ladies tee, 50 yards ahead, while I grabbed the cart. As I drove up, I saw Dorothy's ball arcing beautifully over the bunker, before landing in the fairway and scooting a further 20 yards. Advantage Dot, a fact her smile confirmed on her return to the passenger seat.
I had about 310 left, from a reasonable lie in the rough. I figured I could get a low, running hook out of here. I took my 5 iron, pulled the ball back a bit in my stance, and hooded the face. I lashed at it with everything I had, and as planned, the ball screamed out in a low hook, doing its best Eveready Bunny impression as it ran out, to within 100 yards of the green.
"Nice shot!!" Dorothy called out from her position in the fairway. She hit a nice little fairway wood 10 yards past mine. We were pretty even.
My third was a spinning lob wedge that landed about 15 feet past, took one hop and jerked to a stop right there, leaving me about 20 feet, slightly downhill, breaking right. Dot hit a wedge that scooted up, 12 feet short. Her putt was uphill, right to left.
I was a bit worried she might draw first blood in our little game, but we both 2 putted our way to pars. Carry over.
The second hole was a downhill par 4, about 390 yards. Pretty straight, but O. B. right, with a pond left front of the green. I was on in regulation, but about 40 feet away. Dot missed right, but her chip left a 5 footer for par. My lag putt, usually one of my better aspects, slid about 8 feet past, meaning I had to putt first. But I had a good look at the line as my first putt went by, so I was able to put the pressure back on her by making the comebacker.
Dorothy lined up her putt. There was some pressure on this one. If she missed, I would have control of the first two questions in our game. She hit a good putt, but it died right and spun out.
"Fuck me!" she cried angrily.
"Not yet, Dot. Perhaps later, " I said with a smile.
She plunked down in her seat, obviously pissed about losing the hole. We drove to the third tee, a 180 yard par 3 for me. Dot started to walk up to her tee.
"Ahem. There is the little matter of a wager to settle." She dropped her head and turned to walk back to me.
"Alright... Get it over with." she resigned herself to her fate.
"Truth or Dare?"
Dorothy thought about it for a few seconds. "Truth", she decided.
"Just how big are your boobs?" I asked evenly. I looked her straight in the eyes, then looked down at her chest, then back to her eyes. Her mouth was opening and closing silently, obviously flustered. She had to answer, otherwise the dare could be worse. She finally caved in.
"34F" she admitted, reluctantly.
"Really? Nice!" I said. Dot was blushing. She knew I had one more left. "Truth or Dare?" I asked again.
"Christ!" she said under her breath, "Dare." she decided, hoping it would be easier than another truth. I let her off easy, for now.