A Hole In One?

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Autumn laid it’s blanket of fallen leaves early this year. The ground now a canvas in bright, patterned hues, the broadleaf’s looked a-fright with nary a thing to wear. In chorus, ranks of unpredictable winds shook the landscape for it’s waning foliage without remorse. “Ah… perfect golfing weather,” I thought. I rang up the course and sure enough all the geezers were at home with mittens and tea, not a geriatric foursome to be found. Only a few tee-times booked for other masochists like myself. I didn’t mind the wind or rain, but relished in the solitude when golfing. I booked a time for the following Sunday and counted the hours. Sunday morning found me gathering my mix-matched set of inherited clubs and making sure I’d have everything I’d need, when the phone rang. My boozer of an uncle was too drunk to drive his daughter (my cousin) to some tennis-awards thing and in typical fashion passed-the-buck to a family member. I just happened to be the istanbul travesti one dumb enough to answer the phone. My tee-time wasn’t ’til 2:00 that afternoon and I decided my karma could use the brownie-points, so I agreed to give her a lift. With a winding 50 miles of highway between us, I did my best to meet with a hasty departure.After nearly an hour I arrived at the small one-story home my uncle rented. Waiting on the porch with a big smile and a bounce in her step, Amy looked a bit chili in her little outfit. She did have a hoodie on, but it fell just short of the hem of her pleated, white skirt. She had just turned 16 but didn’t quite look it. Much to her social-dismay, she was cursed with glasses and late development, though she had a self-proclaimed ‘old soul’ that made up for her….subdued outward qualities. Prancing to my truck, her skinny legs and freckled face were the only skin I could see, her pony-tail bouncing from istanbul travestileri side to side. “Why did she look so cute to me now? If I were her age, I’d probably pass her up for a prettier girl… just as most of the boys her age had done,” I thought as she jumped in. With my mind momentarily in the gutter, 28yo had never felt so criminal or so… Shakespearean. But as my age had adapted to time, so had my tastes… adapted. I’m not proud to admit it, but I am… only human. —————————————————————————————-“Ready to go?” I asked her while she put her seatbelt on. “Let’s roll,” she said catching her breath, her petite, youthful frame shivering off the morning’s chill. “I’ll need you to navigate since I’ve never been where we’re headed,” I said pulling onto the road. “You can count on me,” she answered, mustering a resolute expression and pairing it with a salute. Off travesti we went to Amy’s High-School. She told me about the team, and the award, and the photo, and the blahhhhh blahhhh, and the….. I’d forgotten just how much teenagers talk. Turns out her Tennis Team had earned a spot in the state championships and were having a photo taken for the yearbook or the like. She kept talking and I kept stealing looks at her bare thighs, trying not to be obvious. I might get a break staring at most 16yo girls, but not my own cousin. I’d never be able to live that down. “Gonna go golfing?” she asked, looking in the back seat at my bag and clubs. “Yep, I’ve got a 2:00 pm tee-time, and I can’t wait to hit the links,” I replied, my attention redirected. “You know, I always wanted to try golf, but I’ve heard it’s really hard,” she said with some emphasis on her last two words. I thought nothing of it and, with no intended innuendo, said “Like most things in life, the more you do it, the easier it gets.” -in retrospect, not the most virtuous arrangement of words- For the rest of the drive I tried to keep my eyes focussed in more appropriate directions, but my lecherous libido proved too much for my feeble self-control.

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