Golf Carts Can Be Dangerous!

Many years ago, during my married days, just prior to my divorce. . . I
accidentally overturned my golf cart.

Elizabeth, a very attractive and keen golfer, who lived in a villa on the
golf course, heard the noise and called out: "Are you okay, what's your
name?"

"It's John and I'm okay, thanks," I replied, as I pulled myself out from
under the cart.

"John, she said (firm, loose breasts moving beneath her white, silky robe):
"Forget your troubles.

"Come to my villa, rest a while and I'll help you get the cart up later."

"That's really nice of you," I answered, "but I don't think my wife would
like it."

"Oh, come on now" Elizabeth insisted.

She was so very pretty, super sexy and very persuasive ... I was weak.

"Well okay," I finally agreed, but thought to myself, "My wife won't like
it."

After a couple of restorative Scotch and waters, I thanked Elizabeth.

"I feel a lot better now, but I know my wife is going to be really upset, so
I'd better go now."

"Don't be silly!" said Elizabeth with a smile, letting her robe fall open
slightly.

"She won't know anything.

"By the way, where is she?"

"Still under the cart, I guess."