"Ugh," said Lisa, looking at the lineup. "I was hoping it would be just the two of us."
"Well, it's pretty normal to golf in a foursome," said Frank. "There are a lot of us here; it would take forever if we went in twos. Besides, we'll get to know some of your gym buddies."
"I know, " said Lisa," sighing, "but I was hoping we could fool around as we played, and with these two along with us, there's no chance of that."
Lisa and Frank were at the annual golf event for her gym. It was a full course--18 holes--and they'd play "best ball," picking the best shot of the four of them each time. That meant they would get around the course in a reasonable amount of time. They usually played their local 9-hole "par 3" course with much shorter holes, so this was a big step up, and Frank did not feel at all confident.
"Dave and Jamie," said Frank, reading off the names. "Well, maybe they'll be nice. Let's go get some beer--we can at least get drunk and still have some fun."
"We can do that," said Lisa, opening up her purse to show Dave the bottle of tequila she had snuck in. "Whoever has the worst shot has to drink or do a dare?"
Frank groaned a little inside. Lisa was a much better player than he was; he'd be drinking most holes unless they could get Dave and Jamie to buy in. He was hoping Jamie would at least be nice to look at, which would make up for the lack of fooling around. Lisa was wearing what looked like the smallest golf skirt possible--light pink--with a form-fitting white top with a built-in bra. She looked fantastic. Frank wondered what kind of underwear she was wearing--or if she was wearing any at all.
They got two six packs of beer to add to the tequila--golf was way more fun when you were drunk after all--and went to look for their cart.
"I'm driving," said Lisa, jumping into the driver's side, leaving Frank to load up their clubs in the back. He barely had time to get into the passenger seat before Lisa screeched the tires and headed off for the first hole, coming to a skidding stop by the tee. Had she been drinking all ready? wondered Frank as he struggled to hold on.
Lisa and Frank were first on the lineup. But where the heck were these people? There were only a couple of young guys standing around the first hole, looking lost. After waiting a few minutes, Frank approached them, "Are you Dave?"
"Yeah, said the taller guy--"and this is Jamie." He reached out his hand, and Frank shook it limply--Jamie wasn't even a girl. The day was getting worse by the minute. Lisa would provide an amazing sight to look at, the muscles in her toned legs flexing as she made her shots, her firm bust providing plenty of fodder for ogling, but he wished there was another girl along. Oh well, it was only one event; he would survive.
Lisa, on the other hand, appeared to be a lot less disappointed. "Good to meet you too," she said. She shook hands with both the guys, her hand lingering against their shoulders and brushing down their sculpted arms as she pulled herself in close for a hug, lifting on her toes to raise herself up to their level.
"Do we all agree on the rules?" Frank said, "We use the best ball each time; one shot penalty if we lose the ball? Let's get started." As he said this, Lisa nudged him in the ribs.
"What?"
"Tell them about the other rules," she whispered.
"But that was just when we were playing alone; there's no way these guys will go along with that; look at them. They are so straight-laced."
"What other rules?" said Dave, overhearing.
"Well, it's a bit silly," said Frank, "but we thought it would just be us playing, so we had a rule that the player whose ball we use could make the other take a tequila shot, or... if they refuse the shot, make them do a dare."
"Sounds interesting," said Dave. "What kind of dare?"
"Just something silly, like do a cartwheel or a handstand, or maybe something more daring, like flash another set of players," said Frank, his face flushing.
"Sounds great." "So the winner gets to make the loser do something crazy? Let's do it; we snuck a bottle of vodka in with us--the prices here are crazy." That wasn't exactly how Frank had explained the rules, but he went along with it.
"Great minds," said Lisa, once again opening her purse to show the tequila bottle.
"Perfect." Let's get started. Why don't you hit first, Frank?"
No-no, ladies first," said Frank, waving Lisa toward the tee. He was starting to get nervous; these guys looked to be in decent shape, and he definitely wasn't the world's best golfer.
"I need a minute to get my clubs ready," said Lisa. "Go ahead, honey."
Frank approached the tee trepidatiously. He planted the ball and gave his driver a few experimental swings. This was a par-5, and the green was nowhere to be seen. He hoped he remembered what direction the fairway curved.
Frank always felt embarrassed taking practice swings, so often skipped doing them, going right for his shot. He took a huge backswing, and then... he was sure it had to be a coincidence, but he caught Lisa out of the corner of his eye. She was standing at the cart, fiddling with something. Right at the second he started to swing, she bent over to look for something, causing her skirt to fly up over her waist, revealing her tight ass and a flimsy pink lacy thong that disappeared between her butt cheeks to cup her smooth pussy. He had no choice but to continue the swing and...clunk; his club hit the ground a good two inches before the ball, raising a huge divot. The ball shot off at a crazy angle, hitting a tree, bouncing off another golf cart, and ending up in the rough.
Even worse, every other person from the gym seemed to have arrived at the hole during his swing, and they were now all laughing at him.
"Oh, tough luck. Guess we won't be using that ball," said Dave with a grin as he planted his own ball in the tee area. Frank hung his head in embarrassment. He hated playing golf in front of others, and now he was off to the worst possible start.
Dave planted his feet and made a couple of professional-looking practice swings before expertly driving the ball almost out of sight. It landed in the middle of the fairway. There was a chorus of applause from behind them, which made Frank feel all the worse.
Jamie made a similar shot, although his ball landed a good fifty yards short of Dave's. Then it was Lisa's turn. "Don't worry," she whispered into Frank's ear. "It was just bad luck; you'll get back into it."
Then she planted her ball, her skirt rising so that the bottom of her butt came into view. It was not as scandalous as the look Frank had had earlier, but still not something usually considered appropriate for the golf course.
She contacted the ball with a solid thwack, the ball going right down the fairway and landing just behind Dave's.
"Great shot," Dave said, reaching up for a high-five with her as the foursome made their way back to their carts. "Looks like you're drinking my man," he indicated to Frank, who took a swig of the tequila, which burned its way down his throat, leaving a ball of acid in his stomach. He hated tequila, and had no idea why Lisa had decided to bring it.
Again, Lisa took off at top speed in the cart, jolting his head back into the frame. "Hey, why don't you open some beers?" she said, coming to a one-handed sliding stop near her and Dave's balls. They hadn't even bothered to look for Frank's. He cracked open the beers while Dave and Jamie stopped behind them to retrieve Jamie's ball. Lisa must have noticed him looking a little dejected.
"We can still have some fun," she said, pressing herself into him, her firm breasts pushing against his chest. That was true, thought Frank, especially like right now, when the guys were still far behind them in their cart. He leaned in for a kiss, moving his hand under the back of her skirt, cupping her ass and feeling the thin string of the thong between her cheeks.
"See? She said as the guys arrived in their cart, "It'll be a fun day." Frank quickly removed his hand from her ass, realizing the guys could probably see most of Lisa's butt the way he had been groping her.
"I guess I go first since it's my ball," said Dave, stepping up.
Dave's second shot wasn't as good as his first but still landed on the fairway. Jamie's went into the rough and then it was Lisa's turn. She picked a three-wood and...crack; her ball landed a good thirty yards past Dave's. "Great shot," he said--again high-fiving Lisa--this was already getting irritating.
Frank stepped up and decided on his one wood to get a little more distance.
"Be careful," Lisa called out from the cart, "there are a lot of hazards on this hole."
This time, Frank took a practice shot, but his swing went a good six inches above the ball, spinning him around. He thought he could hear muffled laughter from behind, but put it to the back of his mind. He took his backswing, this time with no distractions from his wife.
Then he swung and made great contact with the ball; it felt like he was hitting air. The ball sailed right down the fairway.
"Yes!" Frank yelled, pumping his fist in the air.
