While golfing last week, I accidentally overturned my golf cart and caused quite a serious accident. By chance, a very attractive young lady, whose garden adjoined the course, heard all the commotion and hurried out of her house and down the garden, calling out, "Are you all right?”
"I think I'm okay, thanks," I replied, pulling myself from the wreckage of the twisted vehicle and strolling coolly towards her.
"Hop over the fence and come up to my place and you can rest a while; you've had a nasty shock and I can help you deal with the cart later," she purred. At this stage, I confess, I couldn't help but notice her silky bathrobe that revealed hints of what appeared to be a very shapely figure.
"That's awfully kind of you," I answered," but I don't think my wife would approve.”
"Oh, come now " she insisted. She was so pretty--so very persuasive--that I began to waver. A wink of her eye later and my moral fortitude collapsed. "Well, okay," I finally agreed, vaulting over the wooden fence and following hot on her heels.
After a couple of glasses of Scotch, laid out on her sofa with my head on her lap, I thanked her for all she had done and told her, "I feel a lot better now. But I know my wife is going to be really upset about all this--she's almost certainly waiting for me and I think that I had better go.”
"Must you really leave so soon?" she asked with a grin, letting her robe fall slightly open. "Stay for a while, won't you? Your wife won't know a thing about any of this. And where is she anyway?”
Pouring myself another drink I replied, "Still under the golf cart, I assume,"