My name is Robyn. I'm a single gal, 28 years old, the youngest vice president of the largest land developer on the West Coast. I don't have a lot of free time. The time I have, I spend on the one true love of my life. Golf! I get to work at 5 A.M., to handle the little bit of East Coast phone contact I have, but mainly so I can get away two afternoons a week and play golf. I'll play golf those afternoons with colleagues, clients, potential clients, friends, relatives, or even total strangers.

Additionally, for the last twelve years, at least one day most weekends, I've been on the course, mostly, with Trish and Mike and Jason. Mike and Jason were on the golf team in high school. We had no girl's golf team, so Trish and I played on the boy's team. We were the only girls good enough to make the team. Even though we had to use the men's tees, Trish or I were usually Number 1. The four of us all play to a 2 or 3 handicap now.

We are all single, never married, no children. Off the golf course, we don't see each other much. There has never been any romance between any of the four of us.

My company had been developing a new golf course around a time-share resort complex. Golf, tennis, skeet, archery, three lakes, fishing, boating, swimming. Upscale. I'd been there two or three times a month for the last three years. It was about a three-hour drive from the office. During the last few months, the grass had taken hold, and last week, they mowed it to playing conditions for the second time. On Tuesday of last week, they cut the holes. 27 holes were almost ready to play. My boss and I played 18 Wednesday. It was going to be a great golf course.

The off site sales office would move on site the week after next. The course would officially open early in the following month. It was still fenced, but I had a set of keys to everything. The company had a four-room suite for executives who needed to spend time there. So far, the suite was seldom used on weekends. There was only a skeleton crew scheduled on site, as the superintendent gave everyone a long weekend. Nobody from the company could get there this weekend, so on Thursday, I phoned Trish and Mike and Jason. They were all thrilled to be my guests for the weekend.

We piled into Trish's SUV Friday afternoon at 3:45. We got there just after 6:45, including a stop for groceries and booze. Trish has a very heavy foot! The suite has a large living room area, a kitchen and wet bar, and four identical master bedrooms. There are views of the course from all the bedrooms, and from the living room. The unit has a fenced -- but not private -- pool and hot tub. Downstairs we have office facilities for the construction managers the superintendent and ourselves. We dropped off our luggage and clubs, unpacked the grub, changed into Friday night dress to impress clothes, and headed for the road house a mile down the hill. We had a couple of nice wines, great Midwestern corn-fed beef, and baked Alaska for desert. We spent an hour on the dance floor, and headed back to the resort. After a little chat and a soak in the hot tub -- not naked -- we headed for our rooms. Breakfast was going to be at 8. By 9, we'd be on the course.

We played the little 9 first. It is an executive course, with only two par 4 holes. Trish and Mike shot 30, Jason and I had 31. Jason and I each lost ten dollars, which Trish and Mike split. We talked about a lot of offbeat things that morning, including topics we'd never ventured into in twelve years. We'd pretty much stayed away from our personal lives before that morning. We got there on those 9 holes. We all talked of a pretty wild existence. We learned we'd all had some similar experiences on Ibiza, or Hedonism, or Cancun, or South Padre; just not together.

We went back to the suite to fix quick sandwiches and have a beer. The talk continued. As we walked out to play the main course, Trish told us about a strip poker game she'd played in college. Mike talked about a poker game at his frat house, where three sorority girls from the house next door were the dealers. If a guy won a hand with a full house or better, the dealer had to take off a piece of her clothing. At the end of the night, he'd won a blow job from the naked girl who dealt at his table. I didn't quite understand how he won it.

As we got to the first tee, Jason said, "Why don't we play strip golf?"

Almost simultaneously, Mike was all for it, I said "no," and Trish said she'd play if I would.

I asked how we'd play. The guys were really quite persuasive, and Trish thought the rules sounded like fun. In the end, I gave in.

Mike suggested that a skins game set of rules was appropriate. We all had four garments. If nobody won the hole, nothing came off. If there was a winner, he or she removed a garment from everyone else. Lost garments were to be left on the green, or the next tee. The highest score after 18 holes lost a garment too, unless he or she was already naked. However we were dressed, that was how we stayed until we drove home. The player with the low score for the round rode home fully dressed. If there was a tie, the winners would have a sudden death play off.

As I said, I was the reluctant participant. The other three were excited at the prospect. To tell the truth, so was I, but I was unwilling to admit it to them.

Nobody won the first hole. We all parred it. On the second hole, Jason had the longest putt, which he drained for a birdie. Trish and Mike two putted for pars. If I didn't make my four footer for a bird, Jason was going to be removing some clothing, including a piece of mine. I didn't want that to happen. It was a pressure putt, with a tricky break. It rimmed the lip, hanging for the longest time -- and it fell in! It was as big a putt as the one I sank on the first extra hole, to give our school the CIF Championship in our senior year. I got hugs from Trish and Mike. Jason just shook his head.

The third hole was a short par three, downhill; with a big three level green. The pin was in the small second level. Trish put her tee shot three feet to the right of the hole, on the middle level. I was on the bottom level, about eight feet short of the pin, Mike was on the fringe just in front of the green, and Jason was in a bunker to the right front. Jason hit his second shot onto the slope between the top and mid level, and rolled all the way down to the front of the green. Mike's second shot was much too hard, and it ended up on the top level. Both Jason and Mike putted to within a couple of feet. As I thought about my putt for a birdie, I knew I had to make to it, as Trish had an easy level three footer for her bird. My line was perfect, but not quite hard enough. Never up, never in was oh so true, as my ball rolled to a stop just two inches short. I was hoping against hope, as I watched Trish get ready to putt. She made her bird. The guys got bogeys, and my easy tap in for a par was automatic. Trish had drawn first fabric.

Trish removed Jason and Mike's pants, and my blouse. Jason was wearing blue striped boxers, Mike white Jockeys. I was wearing a tube top, with just enough construction that it could almost be called a bandeau. Trish dropped our clothes between the third green and the fourth tee.

We all got easy pars on the fourth hole. After my second shot, I noticed my top was riding a bit low. I pulled it up and went to the green. As I put my clubs down, I needed to pull it up again. My top stayed in place while I two putted.

Trish's drive went right down the middle of the fifth fairway. I'm usually ten yards farther than Trish off the tee. After taking a practice swing, I had to pull my top back up a little. Just as I got to the top of my backswing and began to come down, disaster struck. Both breasts popped out of my top. I was so startled I hit the ball with the toe of my wood. The ball ended up twenty-five yards away, at the very far right side of the fairway. Blushing, I dropped my club and quickly pulled my top back on. I heard the guys clapping, and Trish had a grin on her face. Mike and Jason had good drives, but not as good as Trish. I took a couple of practice swings, and concluded a full backswing would probably cause my top to fall off. A shortened backswing kept me covered, but cost some distance. I got to the green in three, and two putted for a bogey five. So did Mike. Trish and Jason parred with 4. Nobody won the hole outright, so nothing came off.