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The Beverage Cart Girl She rolled up on to the seventh hole and smiled. “Do you need anything?” -he cheerfully asked. She was cute, with her tight, light blue shorts, and a tight-fitting t-shirt. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a pony-tail. Her name tag read ‘Brandy’ and was strategically placed on her t-shirt so that it stood out. “A cigar, a brandy and something sweet,” I replied. “I have beer and cokes, no brandy,” she cheerfully replied. She stepped from the cart and opened a small compartment. It was full of cigars of varying sizes and shapes. Her shorts rode high on her bubble-butt and almost immediately, any thoughts I had of having a good golf day, vanished before my eyes, as I eyed her cute ass. Her long legs were well tanned and toned. She stood about 5’3 to 5’4. She turned and asked, “Do you have a preference?” I’m sure she thought I was a total idiot, because it took me a moment for me to refocus and respond. I grabbed a cigar and looked at it, while she opened another compartment, tip-toeing to reach it. Her shorts couldn’t get any tighter or higher on her cute ass. “I’m sorry,” she remarked, “The door is stuck.” “That’s OK,” I responded, reaching over and pulling the compartment door open. I grabbed a candy bar and a bag of peanuts. I fished a beer from the cold storage compartment. “How much do I owe you” I asked. I watched as Bandy added up the numbers in her head. “Twenty nine dollars,” Brandy replied. I fished out two twenties and handed etimesgut escort them to her. She dug through a money pouch for the change. “Keep it,” I remarked. “Are you sure?” Brandy asked. “Yes,” I replied. “You go to school right?” “Yes,” Brandy replied. “I just entered the community college.” Brandy was nineteen and said she planned on being a business major. She asked what I did for work and I said that I was a part time fiction writer and an English instructor at the college. “Oh wow!” she exclaimed. “Do you tutor?” “Not normally,” I responded, “But if you needed tutoring, I’d certainly figure out a way to make it happen.” Brandy twirled a finger in her long blonde hair and smiled. Her mischievous look and provocative finger twirl in her hair caught my attention. “What’s your name?” Brandy asked. “Ian,” I replied. “Ian Tompkins.” “Cool,” Brandy replied. “I’m Brandy.” Another golf cart approached us on the cart path. “Maybe, I’ll see you on the back nine,” she remarked the cart pulled up and stopped. “I’ll look for you,” I replied, giving her a wink. I finished up the front nine about three over par. I couldn’t get Brandy out of my mind. I stopped by the club house before going back out on the back nine. I was getting into my cart, when Brandy pulled up next to me. “How did you do?” She cheerfully inquired. “I suck,” I painfully admitted. Brandy smiled. “Well, the back nine is easy,” she remarked, “I’ll see you on the course.” eryaman escort There was something about her smile and the way she looked at me that made me feel very special. I had run across flirtatious beverage cart girls before, but none quite like Brandy. I teed off on ten and my ball skewered right and over some trees. I found it pretty easily and was back on course very quickly. I managed the hole at one over par. On eleven, I hooked another t-box shot. I scoured the tall grass and managed to hit the green on the next shot. I had a long putt of about thirty feet. I walked to the hole and back to where my ball was positioned on the edge of the green. I lowered my head and putted. I watched as the ball rolled way left of the hole, then curved slightly back to the right, then slowed some more, then suddenly- ga-plunk! It went in the hole. It was an awesome putt and I pretended like I had just won the Masters, silently celebrating with a fist pump. I looked up and Brandy was stationed in her cart, overlooking the green. “Not a bad putt,” she remarked as I retrieved my ball from the hole. “Do you play?” I asked, walking in her direction. “No,” Brandy replied. “No one has ever taken the time to show me how.” “Really?” I replied. “I can show you.” “How much would you charge?” Brandy asked. “For you, “ I replied, “I think we could work out a deal.” Brandy smiled and once again, she twirled a finger in her hair as we spoke. “I don’t sincan escort make much money,” Brandy replied. “Seven fifty and hour plus tips.” “We can work the details out later,” I replied. “What time do you get off work?” “Two thirty,” Brandy replied. I looked at my watch. It was two fifteen. “I’ll tell you what,” I remarked, “I still have a few holes to go, but how about if we meet on sixteen, and you can help me finish off the last three holes.” Brandy smiled and agreed to meet up on sixteen. She drove off and I teed up for my next big challenge. “Whack!” I couldn’t concentrate. I hooked my shot, big time. By the time I got to the sixteenth , I was really frazzled, thinking about the possibilities of teeing up with the beverage cart girl. I waited under a shade tree at the t-box on sixteen. Within a few minutes, Brandy rolled up next to me, in her own golf cart. “I’m ready,” she cheerfully declared as she pulled up next to me. I took out two drivers and showed her how to hit the ball. “It looks easy,” I said, “but harder to do.” After driving my ball off the “t”, I handed a “t” and a ball to Brandy. She bent over and placed her ball on the “t”. My mind froze, as her shorts tightened against her butt when she bent over. She gingerly placed the ball on the “t” and lined up to hit. “Swoosh!” She missed. She stepped back and giggled. “Take your time,” I replied. She lined the club up with the ball, drew it back and then “Thud!” The cub head hit the ground and dirty flew everywhere. The ball fell of it perch atop the “t”. “Well shit!” she exclaimed, taking a step back. I stepped on the “t” box. “Let me show you,” I said. “First of all,” I remarked, “Foot placement is important.” I placed my hands on her hips and showed her how to line up her feet.