Just a Wave - I always waved when I walked by in the morning
(exhib)

I remembered that Mike told me his house was the one on the 10th
fairway with a magnolia tree in the corner of his lot.  If the
living room blinds were open I would always wave as I walked by
after hitting my tee shot.  I couldn't see in and it didn't
matter if he and his wife saw me or not, I would still wave as I
went by, just to be friendly.  I sliced my ball one morning and
it ended up next to Mike's fence.  I waved, as usual, as I went
by and was about to hit my second shot when a woman called out.

"Hello."  I turned my head toward the sound of her voice.  "Hi. 
Why do you wave every morning when you walk by?" she asked.  I
had never met Mike's wife.  The woman speaking to me was slim and
slight of stature, except for her tits, with short, dark hair, a
touch of gray at the temples.

"I'm sorry," I replied.  "This isn't Mike's house?  He told me he
lived on the 10th fairway.  I just assumed this was his house."

"It is his, or was," she said.  "He died a couple of months ago
of a heart attack."

I was momentarily stunned and at a loss for words.  "I'm sorry,"
I finally replied.  "I didn't know that.  I'm sorry.  I would
have expected some sort of announcement about that at the pro
shop, but there never was one.  I assume you are, or were, his
wife?"  She nodded.  "Forgive me for not knowing.  I'm sorry for
your loss," I said.

"I'm not surprised you didn't know.  Those jerks who took over
the golf club never were very friendly, especially when they
fired Mike."

"They fired a lot of people when they took over," I replied.  "I
always liked Mike.  He was always friendly, at least to me.  He
always asked how I was doing when he worked as the starter or the
course marshal.  At least he was always friendly to me.  I'm
sorry for your loss."  She nodded and turned to go back inside
her house.

"Would you mind," I asked before she closed the door, "if I
continue to wave when I go by in the morning?"

"Sure, that would be okay," she said with a half smile and a
slight wave as she closed the door behind her.

I hit my second shot.  It wasn't a good one, nor were any of my
other shots for the rest of the round.

*****

I continued to wave each morning as I went by, whenever the
blinds were open.  On occasion, she would be standing by the
windows, usually with a cup of coffee in her hands, and would
smile and wave back.  I hooked my tee shot one morning and it
ended up down the hill on the left side of the fairway, away from
her house.  I waved when I went by but was sure she couldn't see
me, at least until I saw the top of her head and an arm raised
well up above it, waving back.  I smiled and waved again, then
knocked my second shot onto the green and birdied the hole.

There was a subtle change in our greetings after that day, at
least on her part.  She appeared in Lycra shorts and a sports bra
one morning, pajamas the next. Then pajama bottoms and a robe,
open at the front, but still covering those big tits of hers. 
Now I was missing the green on my second shot and missing more
greens after that.  The woman was messing with my head and it was
taking a toll on my handicap.

Next it was just Lycra shorts and no bra, then just panties.  And
then no panties, no clothes at all, and standing by the window,
rubbing her hairy pussy.  Oh my god, I thought, shaking my head.
My handicap continued to deteriorate.

"What's happened to your game?" the teaching pro asked at my next
lesson.

"I've been somewhat distracted," I replied.

"Focus," he said.  "The game's mostly mental when you play at
this level.  Focus!"  I wish I could, I thought, I wish I could.

Next she was standing by the window, rubbing her shaved pussy,
then rubbing her shaved pussy with her tits pressed against the
glass.  I completely whiffed my second shot.  I could have sworn
I heard someone laugh.

Finally she was rubbing tits and pussy, followed by a wave for me
to come to the door.  Like a zombie, I complied.

"You're really messing with my game," I said, as she cracked open
the door and peeked out.

"Maybe you should take a break and refocus," she replied.  "Come
inside, take a break."

"I stink.  I'm dripping sweat and I'm covered with sunscreen and
bug spray," I said.

"A quick shower will take care of that.  I can help with that. 
Would you like me to help with that?" she asked.

I didn't have to be asked a second time.


  
JustaWave