Both girls had been sensible in putting a generous amount of lotion on their skin, and being true blondes it wasn’t an option. That and the fact that their skimpy shorts and bikini tops were the only things between them and the ruthless August sun.
“This way looks interesting,” said Holly, pointing up a footpath that led towards the coast.
“Hmmm… let me check the route,” said Lisa, who was clearly struggling with the folded sheets of her Ordnance Survey map.
“It’s a footpath. Come on Lisa! Check it later.”
“Fuck!”
“What now?”
“Why the fucking fuck is everywhere always on the fold of the map!”
“I don’t know. Come on, let’s find a secluded beach.”
Lisa appeared to be adamant in her resolve to be chief navigator.
“Lisa! We’re not in fooking Lapland.”
“I guess so.”
Lisa eventually gave up and the two girl friends proceeded along the path, the patches of yellow gorse exuding a light fragrance of coconut, while the sea thrift grew like a little carpet of snow on the seaward side of the path.
“Ooh look, a Chough!” Lisa pointed out.
“A what?”
“There look.”
“It’s a crow,” said Holly, unimpressed.
“It’s a fucking Chough! It’s got an orange beak.”
“If you say so. Anyway, how did you get on with Brad? Spill.”
“Nothing to tell, really.”
“Don’t give me that, Lisa. You were all over him in the 19th.”
“Maybe I was.”
“Is he well hung?”
“Holly!”
“Well… it’s not like you to be unforthcoming on the details.”
“He’s okay.”
“Seven… eight?”
“I don’t know. Seven and some, I guess!”
“Phwooar! I bet you got your end away good and proper!”
“It was all right, yes,” said Lisa, coyly.
“Wait a minute. Either you are covering for him, or he’s a keeper. Which is it?”
“Rock Pipit!”
“Don’t change the subject.”
Lisa’s face lit up and she beamed at her friend, blushing.
“Holly, he went like a fucking train!”
“YES!!! I knew it!” Lisa exclaimed. She turned to her best friend and gave her high fives.
“He’s so fit and everything,” Lisa enthused.
“Are you seeing him again?”
“I might be.”
“I bet you are. You were never one to turn it down.”
“What are you saying?”
“Lisa, some nice abs and a well packed lunch box and you’re like a rat up a drain pipe!”
“The cheek of it! Anyway, he hasn’t said he wants to see me again, yet.”
“Of course he will. He probably can’t believe his luck.”
“Ah thanks, babe.”
“Well, you’re hot.”
“So are you, Holly. Anyway, what’s happening on the guy front at your end?”
Holly turned down her bottom lip. “I’m as horny as fuck!”
“So why haven’t you pulled? There was plenty of cock at the party, last night.”
“I’m waiting for Mr Right.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“No, not in that way. I want a proper seeing to from a bronzed stallion.”
“Not setting your sights high or anything?” commented Lisa, sardonically.
“I’m biding my time. What’s that one?” asked Holly, pointing to a little bird on the wall.
“Twite.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s the Scottish Linnet.”
The girls watched as the little brown bird took flight, twittering as it went. Eventually they reached a division in the path.
“Which way now?” Holly asked.
Lisa turned the map around several ways, with a confused look on her face.
“What?” inquired Holly.
“I can’t see where we are. Well not exactly. Maybe we’re on that bridle path,” she said, pointing to the little dashes.
“But the beach is miles away.”
“Well it’s not my fault, Lisa remonstrated.
“You’re the one with the map!”
“Yeah, which you didn’t want me to consult, I seem to remember.”
“Hmmm… fair point.”
“Anyway, how about this for a plan?” suggested Lisa, as she wafted herself with the map. We’ll toss. Heads to the left and tails to the right.”
“Okay, deal!” agreed Holly.
Lisa licked her lips as she fished in her back pocket for a coin and proceeded to flick it in the air. Both girls bent down, as it fell in an area of short grass just off the path.
“Tails!” proclaimed Holly.
“Right it is then,” confirmed Lisa.
Any uncertainty out of the way, they took the path that went away from the coast, but not so far that they didn’t have to duck a couple of times, as an excitable sea bird skimmed right past their heads.
The sun was bearing down and they paused to take a few draughts from the bottle of water in Holly’s rucksack.
“It’s a bit warm!” Lisa protested.
“I put an ice pack in. It’s melted, probably.”
“What I’d give for a nice glass of lager,” mused Lisa.
“Ooh stop it!”
“And with a hunky barman…”
“…Yeah wearing nothing but an apron.”
The girls laughed and carried on their walk, which began to undulate a little and a few stray Scots Pines punctuated the mainly bare, rugged landscape. Having the time to relax and enjoy their break was such a tonic. Both girls had been thrilled to make the cut and for Holly, finishing in the top 40 was a personal best. She had been up against the best girls in the world, and to get in the prizes was just a bonus. Both she and Lisa had turned semi-professional just before Christmas and were now supplementing what they earned as personal trainers. They had been best friends since college and had even worked together, until the hotel chain where they worked had decided to give them separate jobs.
“Hey, what the fuck!” exclaimed Lisa.
“What?”
“Look, there’s a golf course.”
“Up here! The sun must have got to you,” said Holly with derision.
“Look bum face! There!” Lisa pointed through a gap in the trees and there was clearly a nicely mown green, and a single flag.
“Oh yeah! How weird.”
“It must be a private course or something. There’s nothing on the map.”
“You and your fucking map, Lisa! I’ll do the orienteering next time.”
Not seeing any private signs, they ventured towards the green, negotiating a rather uneven surface, where the path petered out into the wilderness. Passing through a little white picket fence they stood by the first tee.
“There’s a golf trolley and everything. I wonder whose they are?” asked Holly.
“I don’t know. Don’t touch them. We ought to go back, it must be a private course.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Holly. “Anyway, they must have a few quid to spare, these are Homna TW7s,” she added, weighing a driver in her hand.
“Really? Wow!”
“I’m telling you. Private course. Top gear. This dude is loaded.”
“He must be! And will probably throw us to the dogs when he finds us uninvited on his course,” said Lisa, seriously.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic. He should be honoured having two professional golfers on his course.”
Holly held the driver in both hands and made a gesture of addressing the ball at the tee.
“Reminds me of the 4th at Gleneagles,” she said.
“Don’t even talk about the 4th at Gleneagles!” answered Lisa, going to inspect the bag of clubs herself. “That fookin’ rough gets me every time!”
“I could get used to grip of these,” said Holly, examining a niblick.
As they were reminiscing and salivating over the amazing golf equipment, they failed to see the tall, tanned gent approaching from the bunker to their right. Greg was dressed in check shorts and a bright, white short-sleeved shirt. He was around 30, toned and had a chiselled jaw.
“Ahem.”
Holly and Lisa looked up.
“Good afternoon, ladies. “I was just looking for a lost ball. What’s your excuse?” he said in a soft New England accent.
“Oh hello,” said Holly.
“Ummm… hi. We were just looking,” said Lisa, putting the club back in the bag.
“I think you were doing a little more than looking.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. We wondered who’s they were,” said Holly.
Holly licked her lips, giving their unwitting host the once over. Lisa wasn’t far behind in admiring his physique.
“So now you’ve had a feel, what do you think?” asked Greg.
“Excuse me?” asked Holly.
“The clubs.”
“Oh! Yes, was just wondering if you had a nice wood.”
Lisa shot a reprimanding glance in her friend’s direction. However, Holly’s eyes were confidently trained on Greg’s well packed shorts and her brazen behaviour began to have an effect. Greg paused and followed Holly’s gaze and almost instantly noticed how her nipples had become delightfully erect. Lisa also noticed.
“Oh dear, Holly!”
“What?”
Lisa half turned away and said, sotto voce, “pokies!”
Holly giggled and put a thumb inside the pocket of her jeans as Greg stepped onto the green. He could now see the faint sprinkle of cute freckles over Holly's nose. She had the brightest blue eyes that looked earnestly and not a little lustfully into Greg’s.
“So, have either of you ever swung a golf club, or were you just being inquisitive?”
“Well…” said Lisa.
“No!” answered Holly, simultaneously. “But you can show us,” she added, turning to give a cheeky wink to her friend.
“Ummm… yes, you can give us a lesson,” said Lisa, stifling a giggle.
“That’s no problem. It’s Greg, by the way. Formally of Boston, Massachusetts.”
“Holly,” said Holly, offering her hand.
“Lisa,” said Lisa similarly greeting the hunky American.
“So, which one of you wants to go first,” asked Greg.
“Me!” Holly jumped in.
“Okay, well here’s the tee.”
He fumbled in the side of his golf bag and produced a golf ball.
“That goes on there.”
Holly bent down, and placed the little white piece of plastic and drilled it into the turf. As she bent down, Greg was treated to a lovely view of Holly’s cute ass, not to mention a very tasty glimpse of gusset. Lisa smirked as she watched him watch her friend.
“Okay, so stand there and take this,” said Greg, pulling a driver out of the bag.
Holly held the club in a deliberately wrong way, ensuring maximum attention from Greg. Seeing her apparent clueless stance, he stood behind her and placed his hands on hers, guiding her hands to the correct position. He was close to her, his head over her shoulder, and the scent of her sun screen was rising from the warmth of her body.
“Okay, just hit it as hard as you can.”
Holly swung back the club in a perfect arc and hit the ball with a satisfying ‘thwack’ sending it straight down the fairway.
“Say, sure you haven’t played before!”
“Oh… probably beginner’s luck!” said Holly, making a ‘Oops’ face at Lisa.
“Right, my turn,” said Lisa.
Greg took the club from Holly and handed it to her friend. Lisa flashed a smile and tossed her hair back as she stepped up to the tee. Greg took his time, having a leisurely look at her lovely legs and pert derriere.
“Is this right?” she asked, wiggling her hips, and sliding the head of club along the grass.
“Make sure you grip the shaft,” said Holly, coquettishly.
He looked towards her and shook his head.
“Cute, very cute,” said Greg.
Greg looked between the two girls and was suddenly aware that he was very much the centre of attention. He repeated the process of guiding Lisa’s hands as he had with Holly. Lisa bent forward and bumped her bum into Greg’s groin and giggled naughtily. Greg looked down as he positioned himself behind the sexy blonde and found himself peering down her more than ample cleavage. This along with her equally feminine aroma had the inevitable effect. As he gripped Lisa’s hands, the warmth of her body and her radiant sensuality he began to acquire a thick semi on. Lisa was instantly aware of the bulge against her ass and looked at Holly and licked her lips.
Greg took Lisa through the back lift and then left her to take the swing and like Holly, she sent a perfect ball down the course, landing close to Holly’s. As soon as she had taken her shot, she looked down at Greg’s packet. Realising he must be showing, Greg moved towards his golf bag in order to cover his embarrassment. Seeing both girls eyeing him up, just seemed to make things worse and he was in a spot.
“Showing a couple of novices proving too much, Greg?” asked Holly.
“Sorry, you two are just so damn hot! You can’t blame a guy.”
“Well, maybe you could extend your hospitality, and we could help you with that,” said Holly, mischievously. “What do you say, Lisa?”
“Hmmm… I like your thinking, Holly.”
Greg was torn between the pretence of shielding his embarrassment and allowing himself the pleasure of enjoying the situation. Lisa lifted his shirt, revealing a nice sprinkle of dark hair that fizzled out onto his perfectly smooth, defined abs.
“Oooh, look at this!” said Lisa.
“Oh yes, that’s nice!” agreed Holly, stroking the front of his flat sculptured stomach.
“Whoo! Maybe we should move to the house," said Greg, flustered. "I have the air conditioning running. It should be good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the girls said together.
“Okay, well it’s this way,” said Greg, pointing up a little area where a bunker rose up a fiendishly tricky-looking lie.
Once over the mound, Greg’s house came into view, along with an extensive conservatory and stables.
“Wow! It looks palatial,” commented Holly.
“I’d like to say it was all from sweat and toil, but my father and I have a fortune invested in a major distillery and this is my summer residence bought from the dividends.