Many years ago during my married days, 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 of the twisted cart.

John,” she said, “forget your troubles. Come to my villa, rest a while and I’ll help you get the cart up later.”

That’s mighty 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, very very 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. I really need to go now.”

Don’t be silly!” Elizabeth said 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.”