{"id":45283,"date":"2025-03-26T05:22:00","date_gmt":"2025-03-26T04:22:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.lelo.com\/blog\/?p=45283"},"modified":"2026-02-14T05:28:48","modified_gmt":"2026-02-14T04:28:48","slug":"golf-course-bottleneck-an-erotic-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.lelo.com\/blog\/golf-course-bottleneck-an-erotic-story\/","title":{"rendered":"Golf Course Bottleneck – An Erotic Story"},"content":{"rendered":"

A speeding golf cart skidded harshly on the pebbled path. It stopped in front of the field house.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade Dean, the golf course’s general manager, banged his way through the door of the field house.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s the problem now?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He put his hands on the roof of the cart and push his forehead against his hands.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBottleneck, Hole 5,\u201d answered the young golf operations attendant. \u201cGetting frustrating for the guys at Hole 3.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Wade grunted, \u201cthose are the guys who actually want to play.\u201d Wade shook his head, frustrated.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do we do?\u201d the young man asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe’s a club member.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade spread his arms wide, as if the comment was obvious. \u201cWe can\u2019t just kick her off the course. It’s going to upset a lot of members.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He glared at the thin-faced twenty-year-old who held the steering wheel, waiting for directions from his superior.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCan we get her to let the others play through?\u201d Wade asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo one wants to\u2014at least the guys right behind her. Behind them, though, it\u2019s a different story. And those members\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe members are pissed as fucking hell.\u201d Wade wagged his head side to side. He sarcastically mimicked the complaints he had heard for weeks. \u201c\u2018I’m gonna cancel my membership!\u2019 \u2018You can’t manage a course decently!’ \u2018This place has gone straight to Hell!\u2019\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The complaints had flooded in since Debbie Dearing became a member of the community\u2019s country club six months ago.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade <\/span>thwapped<\/span><\/i> his palm once on the fiberglass top of the golf cart. \u201cYou, offer free drinks at the club house to the complainers. Me, I\u2019ll head to 5 to discuss the situation with Debbie.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The golf cart sped away, and Wade jumped onto his six-wheel gator. He drove quickly along back tracks on the course and through small enclaves of brush and tall, sappy pines. Wade parked the gator at the edge of the tee box on Hole 5.<\/span><\/p>\n

A group of about ten players rested on their drivers, relaxed in the swampy heat and smiling in the blinding sun.<\/span><\/p>\n

They stood content, because, squared in the tee box was Wade\u2019s problem: Debbie Dearing.<\/span><\/p>\n

She shifted her hips and torso as she stared down at the tiny Titleist set atop the tee. The men, even Wade, stared quietly at her long legs and narrowed shoulders. Notably, her breasts were squeezed between her stiff arms.<\/span><\/p>\n

No one spoke. No one moved. A lone robin whistled high in a pine.<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie inhaled, drew back her driver and, with a strong grunt, she cracked the ball far down the fairway.<\/span><\/p>\n

The men clapped gently for her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA clear drive.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood job!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She touched the visor of her golf cap to acknowledge her viewers. She bent over to pull the tee out of the ground. The men silenced again. The short skirt rose up high, showing more of her narrow thighs.<\/span><\/p>\n

A heavy-set man in white, spiked shoes and plaid pants walked into the tee box. He jammed his tee into the ground.<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie stood at the rear of her golf cart to wait for the others to drive.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade walked toward Debbie.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMs. Dearing,\u201d he said, shuffling quickly across the box, \u201ca great drive. Impressive.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She shoved the driver club into her golf bag. It clacked against the irons and woods.<\/span><\/p>\n

She smiled at Wade’s compliment. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMs. Dearing,\u201d Wade continued, \u201cwe’re having a backup on the course at this hole.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

After a quick swig from a water bottle, she turned to Wade.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAgain?\u201d She rolled her eyes but emoted a pleased demeanor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, again, for some reason \u2026\u201d Wade let his response die. \u201cAt Hole 6, can you let a few play through? It’ll make my day go better.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is a long hole,\u201d she said, as she plopped into the driver seat of the golf cart. \u201cYou know my handicap.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade kept his eye from the deep cleavage of a sleeveless polyester polo with the zipper pulled low.<\/span><\/p>\n

He kept his eyes away from her jutting nipples.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not really, I don\u2019t know your handicap. I just know it won\u2019t take too long.\u201d Wade lifted his hand and wiped his forehead with his forearm. \u201cI have some complainers who are stuck, waiting, as far back as Hole 3.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They paused as another club member wiggled his hips, settling in for his swing. A whoosh and a thwack and the ball hooked right into the rough. The man tossed his cap onto the manicured grass and cursed. He yanked the broken tee from the ground.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe may be the one causing the delay. Not me,\u201d Debbie said. She tugged a golf glove off each finger.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade smiled politely. \u201cIt’s not hooks or slices. It’s, well, a\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA lovely woman among deadhead men?\u201d She lowered her sunglasses on her narrow nose to look falsely surprised at Wade.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf you want to put it that way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can play faster, but these men, they have question after question about my swing. They want me to show them. They want advice\u2014female golfing tidbits\u2014that they can pass along to their wives. Don\u2019t ask me why. I guess women don\u2019t golf as much as men.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade raised his shoulders. \u201cIf you can \u2026 um \u2026 not provide your insights to the guys until the players waiting at Hole 3 now pass by? It would be appreciated by the entire club and me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie set one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of the driver’s seat. She grinned. \u201cThe whole club, eh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade tried to remain professional\u2014eyes focused on hers\u2014as he was the one who assuages players’ complaints before they hit the superintendent in the club house. However, Debbie’s large breasts cramped so perfectly in her purple polyester, dragged his eyes from hers.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade didn\u2019t respond aloud though, because a spindly man reared back and then swung forward. Following a crack, the ball sailed, in front of a whistle, out of sight somewhere down the fairway.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0Wade returned to Debbie. \u201cAnything you can do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWant me to ride your gator back to 3 and ask for patience?\u201d She touched her right foot against the brake pedal, while her left foot reset wider on the gravel cart path.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"lelo<\/a><\/p>\n

Wade dropped his arms. He dragged his eyes across the manicured hills and greenways to avoid assessing how far apart she had spread her legs\u2014whether done innocently or otherwise.<\/span><\/p>\n

He directed his gaze back to her eyes, squinting, as if trying to block the sun from blinding him, although something else drew his eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can pass along the reason for the delay, as long as you continue to play forward.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf I\u2019m there, they may be more apt to accept your reason for the delay.\u201d Debbie stood. The cart\u2019s shocks squeaked. \u201cWhere’s the gator?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She noticed it across the tee box.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBoys.\u201d She waved to the pack of men. \u201cI’ll be back in a few minutes. Wade, here, says we’re playing too slowly for some other golfers. I want to tell them why it\u2019s taking so long. Someone take me to the putting green for two strokes, okay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The men agreed to her leaving with mumbles, urging her to come back quickly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know I will,\u201d she said, batting her ungloved hand in banter.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade started the gator. \u201cHang on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He jolted ahead. Debbie grabbed both the side bar and front bar on the dashboard to keep her seat.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are these guys asking you? Advice-wise, I mean,\u201d Wade asked loudly over the grumbling motor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBoobs, Wade, boobs,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade jerked the gator out of the path of a pine.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, you heard me. Tits,\u201d she said loudly. \u201cTheir wives have titties, and it’s tough to swing with a pair hanging, blocking the way of a smooth backswing. They would like to play with their wives\u2014they say at least\u2014but with some excellent advice from one with a decent set, they may have a partner on the course.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade yanked the steering wheel again to avoid a wide shrub.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI tell them that the key is all in the set up! Try to get the left arm over the left and tuck the right arm. Even if I set my boobs perfectly, on the downswing, all things go whacky. One tit swings forward under my left arm and the other gets caught between my arms. It\u2019s as if my tits want to fly like the ball.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMust be a bitch,\u201d Wade said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh! And I stand a little farther away from the ball. The only way to play.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Before merging onto a paved golf cart path, Wade glanced right and left. Doing so, his eyes skimmed across Debbie’s deep cleavage and chest packed into a sports top. He could not help moving his vision to her lap. Her pleated skirt hardly covered her thighs.<\/span><\/p>\n

He exhaled, ballooning his cheeks.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s how I feel,\u201d Debbie said. She mimicked Wade, puffing her own cheeks.<\/span><\/p>\n

A few moments later, Wade stopped the gator at Hole 3.<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie turned toward Wade, lowered the zipper on her blouse slightly.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Wade, but it makes angry men happy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie walked up to the\u00a0 gray-haired men amassed at the tee box. Some had been standing motionless, arms crossed. Others sat, peeved, on golf carts. One man batted the head of his driver on the soft green grass. That was until Debbie began her girly gait toward them.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGentlemen, gentlemen,\u201d she called, waving her hands overhead. \u201cI apologize for the wait. We had some trouble on Hole 5. You know, some golfers think too highly of their game. First, hitting into the rough, digging into the sandtraps. Don\u2019t get me started on how bad of putters these guys are.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The men’s tension and frustration eased at seeing Debbie and then hearing from her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGuys, Wade tells me he will send a few of his assistants to take your orders for drinks\u2014on the house. Wade and I will do our parts to get the afternoon moving up ahead. Okay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA second round on the house, eh?\u201d One guy raised his plastic cup. \u201cA kid brought us drinks already.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, the ice is melting in this heat. I need a refresh without the ice.\u201d The guy drank what remained in his glass.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yet the men gave brighter thank-yous and immediately began calling out their next drink orders to Wade.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade waved his hands to block the flood of orders.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe’ll get your orders in a few minutes. I need to take Ms. Dearing back to her game.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Debbie spritely bounded off the tee box down to the gator.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade revved the engine.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"sex<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for giving them free drinks. That costs me, you know.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Frustrated, he twisted the steering wheel to the left. Debbie bumped into his shoulder in the sharp turn.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holding onto the bars, Debbie calmed Wade. \u201cYou’ll be just fine. You worry too much. Always blowing things out of proportion.\u201d She patted his knee before grabbing the bar again.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got a course to run smoothly. And this isn\u2019t some public course. Our members expect a lot\u2014more than what is possible on a good day. Errors and divots and brown grass and slow teams, like yours\u2014it all gets back to my boss.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe service industry is tough, Wade.\u201d She gripped his knee this time.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou trying to show me your girly charm too? You cost me about $200 in drinks, you know.\u201d He shook his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMore exaggeration.\u201d She batted his shoulder. \u201cThey\u2019re happy. No complaints.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGive them an hour and they’ll be complaining again. Old golfers are always complainers. Even a hole-in-one wouldn\u2019t make them happy. They would say they deserve it for all they time and money spent on the course. And the young guys are learning from the geezers to be jerks. It never ends.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade yanked the steering wheel to avoid another pine tree.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWith this attitude, I can\u2019t save your day.\u201d Debbie stared ahead with eyebrows raised.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade slowed the gator to a stop. He leaned his forearm across the steering wheel. \u201cYes, there is something you can do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, what is that, Wade?\u201d She said his name sultrily.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGetting off Hole 5 and speeding up to Hole 9. That\u2019ll make my day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHumph.\u201d She crossed her arms. Then she put her right hand on the front bar. \u201cAre you always this pissy?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOnly when there’s a bottleneck. Otherwise I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOther than holes-in-one all the way to 9, would anything change your mood? Boobs?\u201d She leaned forward and squeezed her chest slightly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade pressed the gas petal. Debbie gripped the bars for safety.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot even boobs?\u201d she called over the grumbling engine. \u201cI thought boobs would save the world?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He drove ahead not looking at her, face tight and angry. \u201cA great pair doesn\u2019t work on the golf course when players are mad and waiting in the heat. Sorry to break it to you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t believe you. I can speed up the game to 9 in no time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow’s that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The gator hit a fallen branch in the ground among the brush. Wade clacked his teeth and Debbie\u2019s head bounced.<\/span><\/p>\n

They returned to Debbie’s group, which had moved to the putting green.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, everyone.\u201d She waved as she walked onto the short, fine turf, \u201cthe guys behind us are happy drinking. It’s Wade who’s upset.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade grouched from the seat of his idling gator. \u201cI am not. Don\u2019t say that!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She stepped to her ball at the edge of the green. She angled herself and aligned her putter toward the hole. Doing so, she said, \u201cI am so disappointed that I upset Wade.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A soft knock and she putted the ball across the green, and it disappeared into the hole.<\/span><\/p>\n

The gator\u2019s engine revved. Debbie looked back. \u201cWade, wait!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

When he raised his head, she trotted to him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI owe you.\u201d She placed her hands on the passenger seat of the gator.<\/span><\/p>\n

She pushed forward her chest. \u201cCan I make you happy\u2014give you a good day?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He gruffed again, rolling his eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

She lowered the zipper on her polo shirt.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing now?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA little \u2018peekaboo gift.\u2019\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She tugged her left breast and then her right out of her shirt, so her reddened nipples came into view. Her breasts showed how cramped they had been in her shirt and under a sports bra during the afternoon’s play.<\/span><\/p>\n

Witnessing them nonetheless, Wade’s frustration evaporated. A smile cracked his fa\u00e7ade, and he began to laugh and shake his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI knew that would help.\u201d She tucked away her tits. \u201cAnd it’s worth the cost of the drinks?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wade exhaled. \u201cYes, yes, worth every penny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood. Drive me to Hole 6, and we’ll play on.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Enjoy this story more with 15% off LELO.com<\/a> with code VOLONTE15<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A speeding golf cart skidded harshly on the pebbled path. It stopped in front of the field house. Wade Dean, the golf course’s general manager, banged his way through the door of the field house. \u201cWhat’s the problem now?\u201d He put his hands on the roof of the cart and push his forehead against his hands. \u201cBottleneck, Hole 5,\u201d answered the young golf operations attendant. \u201cGetting frustrating for the guys at Hole 3.\u201d \u201cYeah,\u201d Wade grunted, \u201cthose are the guys […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":113,"featured_media":44296,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[517,561],"coauthors":[931],"class_list":["post-45283","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-erotic-fantasies","tag-erotica","tag-erotic-fiction"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nGolf Course Bottleneck - An Erotic Story<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.lelo.com\/blog\/golf-course-bottleneck-an-erotic-story\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Golf Course Bottleneck - An Erotic Story\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"A speeding golf cart skidded harshly on the pebbled path. It stopped in front of the field house. 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