All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy the story! And please take a second to vote and comment.
This story hasn't been located in any particular city since state laws on public nudity vary drastically from state to state in the USA. Thus, I have just ignored that these laws exist and allowed the people in the story to do as they please.
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"Who's up?" Connor asked as the foursome walked to the ninth tee.
"Who's always up," Mike quipped.
"Yes, as always, we bow to Andy." Owen put his hands together and bowed his head.
"If you guys took the game a little more seriously, your scores would improve."
"More seriously also means more time and more money," Mike said, shaking his head.
"I have a little net in the backyard that I use for driving practice. Hang a sheet on a clothesline. It works."
"Never thought of that."
"Still takes time."
"Anything worthwhile takes time."
"And there's only so much of it."
"No problem, guys. I enjoy the free beer," Andy said with a chuckle.
"We need to start figuring some handicaps here to make things even," Mike, who almost always had the highest score, suggested.
"When we're through, give me your last four scores, including today, and I'll calculate handicaps for next week," Andy volunteered.
Three nods and Andy stepped onto the tee. With his usual smooth swing, he sent the small white ball sailing down the center of the fairway.
"Shit. Same old, same old. I'll be glad when we have the handicaps," Owen said. He usually had the second-lowest score and thought the handicap might help him compete with Andy.
The other three drove, and all were in the fairway this time, though not nearly as long as Andy's.
"Man, a perfect sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. I'm glad our wives are understanding enough to let us play golf every Saturday morning." Owen was admiring the deep blue color of the springtime sky as he walked.
"Not bad for May, for sure," Andy answered. "There's your ball."
"Got it, thanks. I'll wait here while the others hit." They stood together, watching first Mike hit and then Connor. Both had nice shots, still in the fairway but short of the green.
Owens's second shot was just short of the green, and Andy's, of course, was on the green about thirty feet from the cup.
They finished the hole, all relatively happy with two pars and two bogeys.
"A quick rest before we tackle the back nine?"
All agreed and went to the clubhouse, where they purchased iced teas and sat at a small table.
Owen raised his glass. "Here's to the wives who let us do this every Saturday morning."
"Here, here," they all said and tapped their glasses together.
"It is pretty amazing, isn't it?"
"But, the wives get to do what they want every Saturday morning." Andy was fairly sure he knew what Callie was doing.
"Darla always goes shopping," Connor said. "With both of us being nurses, it's good to relax and have a good time with no responsibility. She usually buys something but just enjoys looking at things and imagining what it might be like to wear them. That's fairly harmless." he laughed and took a long drink of his tea.
"Mike, what's Amber doing?"
"Normally, she'd sleep in, but she has a client who only has Saturday morning free, so she's working. The client likes to work hard, so she gives Amber a nice tip, which she usually spends before the day is over. Sometimes, it's on pizza, so it's not all bad."
That remark got a good laugh from the other three. But it was Mike's turn to ask the question.
"How about Madison, Owen?"
"She'll do her three-mile run, check some paperwork, and then read. When I get home, she'll be snoozing but will swear she wasn't asleep."
He turned to Andy. "Tell us about Callie."
"I think that if you checked our backyard right this minute, you'd find a glass of wine, a pair of sunglasses, and a red bikini covering my wife, who is stretched out on the lounger. Oh, and I forgot the Kindle because she'll be reading something."
"I'm sure the neighbors enjoy that," Connor suggested.
"I've even
watched
the neighbors enjoying that," he said, chuckling.
"I don't want to be offensive, but damn, she's watchable, Andy."
"No offense at all, Mike. In fact, it's kind of a compliment."
"At least she's wearing a bikini." Connor said it, but his mind was picturing what Callie would look like without the bikini. She was a tall blonde former cheerleader whose thirty-two-year-old figure, a bit top-heavy, still turned heads when she entered a room.
"I've tried to talk her into at least losing the top so the neighbors would really get charged up, but no go."
"Andy, you mean you'd like for the neighbors to ogle Carrie's boobs?" Owen looked very surprised.
"Well, they're nice, believe me. And seeing them isn't like, well, other things you could do with them. But I can't even get her to unfasten the top when she's lying on her stomach. So, if she wears a backless gown, I have to rub on makeup to cover the white stripe."
They all laughed, and Owen continued.
"I know what you mean. Madison and I were at the ocean a few years ago, and it was after the season, so there weren't many people on the beach. It was high tide, and we were in shoulder-deep water -- there was no one within fifty yards of us, and I challenged her to hand me her top and swim around a little. I gave her my trunks, but no go for her."
"Yeah, but you get to see it all every day, Owen."
"Anytime you need an assistant for your exams, I volunteer," Mike said, struggling to contain a laugh.
Owen was a gynecologist and often had guys volunteer to assist him.
"And I get to see Madison's mammaries occasionally, too."
"I tried to get Darla to go topless when she'd take out the trash at midnight. No luck on that," Connor said, frowning.
"Amber wouldn't have sex with me under the weeping willow, either." Mike's turn to complain.
"There's a back nine waiting, guys," Andy said as he stood and drained his glass of tea.
"Are we all weird, wanting our wives to display their goods?" Mike asked as he pulled the sock off his driver.
"Number ten is a par three, Mike."
"Shit. I've got bare tits on my mind, I guess."
"Well, all our wives have bodies that would look good bare, so that's not an issue. And, considering their ages, that's something to say." Andrew was holding a six iron.
"Amber's only twenty-three," Mike said as he bagged his driver and grabbed a two iron. There was a five percent chance he'd do everything correctly and hit long, but that was the least of his worries.
They finished the back nine and adjourned to the nineteenth hole, Andy getting the free beer, as always.
"Don't you feel guilty, always getting the free beer?"
