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Although I am only nineteen, I know what I want out of life:a good man and a lot of good sex. I am in college and the immature hormonal prudes in my college just drive me crazy. As spring turned into summer, I decided to look for a job. I browsed the local classified on line, but didn’t see anything that really caught my eye. I wanted a fun job, one where I could just be myself and not have to dress up or impress anyone. BEER CART GIRL. The ad just called out to me. I drove over to the Oak Hollow Golf Club on the outskirts of town and wondered into the plush club house. I had never been on a golf course in my life, much less a fancy place like Oak Hollow. An older gentleman saw me looking around and asked if he could help me find something. “Yes,” I cheerfully replied, “I’d like to apply for the beer cart girl position.” The fellow took a step back and smiled. “How old are you?” he asked. “Nineteen,” I replied. “Well,” he said, “You have to be twenty-one in this state to serve an alcohol containing beverage.” “But I am twenty-one,” I responded back. “I promise.” The guy looked at me and smiled. “OK,” he said, “You bring me an ID that says twenty- one and you’re hired.” I hurried back to the house and found my older sister laying out by the pool. “I need to borrow your ID,” I declared. “For what?”” Lynne asked. Lynne and I were tight. She had pulled me out of more than one predicament. “I got a job as a beer cart girl at Oak Hallow, but I need your ID to prove I am twenty-one,” I replied. “Promise me you’re not trying to buy some liquor,” Lynne responded. “I promise,” I replied, trying to sound desperate, “I need this job!” “OK,” Lynne replied, “Just this once.” I hurried back over to the golf club with Lynn’s ID in hand. The same older gentleman was signing in two golfers, so I waited patiently in the plush lobby for him to finish up. I handed the club manager my ID. He studied it rus escort for a second and then looked at me. “My hair is longer,” I said, anticipating his question. He turned the ID card over and then looked at me. “Fine,” he declared, “Be here at 8am and wear some sexy shorts.” Sexy shorts. I had his sexy shorts. I was excited about the job, but that excitement quickly wore off about the fifth trip through the golf course, driving the beer cart. Every time I’d see a group of players, I’d drive up and wait for them to come over to my cart. Several times I found myself just sitting and waiting for a customer only to watch them drive off. The job I thought to be exciting, became very boring, very fast. Then, one day, as I was sitting under a shade tree on the back nine, a middle-aged guy rolled up next to me and asked for two beers. I retrieved the beers from my cart cooler and handed them to him. “Ten dollars,” I said. “Ten dollars?” he repeated, as if he didn’t believe me. “Sorry, but I don’t set the prices,” I replied. He handed me a twenty and as I fished for change, he said to “keep the change.” “Are you sure?” I asked. I was ecstatic- I had earned a ten-dollar tip on two beers. He asked my name. I looked down at the name tag pinned to my gold club polo shirt. “I think it says I am Ally,” I replied. He smiled and replied, “Sorry, I was distracted by your beautiful blue eyes.” Yeah right. I was nineteen, not fourteen. But his charming comment made me take a second look at him. He smiled as he got back into his cart and drove off. My palms were sweating. I didn’t know why, but they were. I didn’t think much more about the guy, even though I made a mental note to look for him again. Several days later, I found myself on the back nine, once again and this same guy drove up next to my beer cart. “Hi Ally,” he announced as he parked beside yenimahalle escort my cart. “Hey Mister Budweiser,” I replied. He laughed. “Glad you remembered,” he replied. His real name was “Tom.” I handed him two beers from the cart cooler. “Are you out here every day?” he asked. “Every day except Wednesdays,” I replied. “I have to have one day to recuperate.” Tom handed me another twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he remarked, proffering a wink. He slipped his cart into gear and drove off as fast as he had arrived. My palms were once again, very sweaty. I could feel myself kind of upbeat and feeling pumped up after our brief encounter. The very next day, at about the very same location, he drove up again, only this time he had a playing partner with him. ”Ally,” he said, “This is Bill. Bill, this is Ally.” Bill was probably about the same age as Tom. As I fished for a beer from the cart cooler, I felt a hand brush past my butt. I turned and saw that it was Bill. Almost immediately, he apologized. “Sorry,” he said as he stepped past me and around to the far side of the beer cart. Bill stepped back around from behind my cart, with several candy bars in hand. “Do you have any cigars” he asked. “No,” I replied, “But I’ll make sure to have some next time we meet up.” I counted the candy bars. “That’ll eight dollars,” I remarked. Bill handed me a ten-dollar bill. I handed him back two dollars. Tom stepped out of the cat and handed me a twenty-dollar bill. “So what do you want?” I innocently asked. “Nothing right now,” Tom replied. “That’s your tip.” I looked at the twenty-dollar bill. “You don’t have to,” I said. “Just take it.” he remarked. I felt honored to be treated so well, despite his playing partner’s prudish behavior. As they drove off, I realized my panties were soaked. I couldn’t believe I had gotten so turned on. I made my way back to the club house and changed into my gym shorts from school. As I came out the club house, Tom and Bill were walking in. I smiled as we passed each other, but didn’t say a word. I heard bill whisper to Tom, “That’s her!” I hopped in my cart and put it in gear. As I hummed along the concrete cart path, I couldn’t help but think about Tom and Bill. I pulled up under a shade tree. Tom was cute and Bill was the flirt. A group of four guys approached. They parked their carts and unloaded, each grabbing a driver from their golf bags, to tee off. I sat in silence, hoping they wouldn’t approach me. I watched as each of them tee’d off. They piled back into their carts, slowing as they approached where I sat. “Sorry guys,” I said, “I am all out of beer. I am fixing to head back in and get some more.” My little white lie worked. In the distance, I saw a lone cart making its way down the cart path. It was Tom and Bill. Tom was driving. He pulled right up next to where I was stationed under a large shade tree. “Hey,” Tom called out, Fancy seeing you again!” Bill was smoking on a cigar. He stepped out of the cart, grabbed his driver and two balls from the ball holder in the cart. As he walked up the slight slope to the tee box, Tom stayed behind in the cart. We both watched as Bill took a few practice swings. “I have wait for the assholes in front of us to clear the fairway,” Bill announced. Tom nodded his head and looked over at me. I had my legs propped up in the front slope of my cart. “Can I ask you a question?” Tom inquired. “Shoot,” I replied. “Do you always go pantiless?” he asked. I immediately dropped my legs. “I’m sorry,” I replied. “I had an accident and had to change.” “Oh, I’m not complaining,” Tom responded. “In fact, I think it’s kind of sexy when a girl goes commando.” I glanced at Tom’s crotch and could tell my accidental flash had caused a small “issue”. I don’t know why, but I was feeling rather moved by the thought that I could so easily turn a guy on. I slipped my feet back on to the dash of my cart. I bit down on my lower lip, and tossed my hair back over my shoulder. Tom was not a bad looking guy.
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32