J. S. Jasko

The Go-getter Golf BAll
Spicy Fan Fiction:
The Get-in-Bed-Together Golf Ball

Posted by Ernie the Email | March 29, 2025

The sun was swole and hot in the sky, and it flexed its strong yellow rays over Hunk Island during one of the twenty-year time jumps that happened in the book. Daisy Blue was sitting on the beach beneath a big umbrella and sipping a piña colada through a crazy straw. She was happy to be an official main character for once, even though it was just the main character in some spicy fan fiction.

The blue golf ball watched as Hunky Tanner and Hunky Domingo splashed each other in the foamy surf, their washboard abs glistening and their child-size speedos leaving little to the imagination. The three of them were up late last night in one of the cabanas, Hunky Tanner and Hunky Domingo passing Daisy Blue back and forth between their wet open mouths in a steamy ménage-à-ball.

Yeah, life was pretty great for Daisy Blue right now.

But that’s not to say she never missed her old home at Steven’s Silly Holes during this respite from life. Hunk Island had its own miniature golf course for when the hunks wanted a break from all that lifting and gaining mass, but the obstacles were just weight benches and barbells, and the hole cups were filled with practical protein powder and baby oil. Nothing silly about that. Also, the hunks were so jacked that they always hit the balls way too hard. Hunky Domingo almost launched Daisy Blue right off the island one time!

As Hunky Tanner and Hunky Domingo rinsed themselves off in one of those outdoor showers with no curtain so their hunkiness was still on full display, Daisy Blue rolled over to the miniature golf course and stretched her sun-dappled dimples. Maybe she’d play a hole or two for old times’ sake. A golf ball on vacation is still a golf ball, after all.

She flagged down a passing cabana boy who was out replacing last night’s dirty cabana towels, and he gave the blue golf ball a non-jacked nudge down the first green. Daisy Blue was off! Past a gauntlet of swinging kettlebells, curving around a hand sanitizer station that was somehow always empty and only squeezed out dry puffs of sanitized air, and then finally weaving through a minefield of trendy stainless-steel water bottles before plopping into the hole cup for a satisfying hole-in-one.

The girl’s still got it!

This cup was filled with a water-based lubricant, and it looked like another golf ball was already inside. Wait, no. Not a golf ball. Was that an email crumpled up in a little ball? Daisy Blue waded through the lube and the email unfurled itself as she approached. Daisy Blue didn’t know that emails could be hunky, but this one definitely was: the six-pack abs printed in heavy black ink were undeniable. She felt her dimples blush.

“To whom it may concern,” the email said. “My name is Bernie St. Business Memo. I’m a very important email correspondence from Business R Us and was accidentally forwarded to Hunk Island by an incompetent business caddy before I could help complete a very lucrative business deal.”

Daisy Blue took a closer look at the email and saw it was true.

“Wow, that’s a lot of zeros.”

“Can you help me hammer out the details of how to get back to the Big Building of Business?”

“We have a fax machine in one of the cabanas, because fax machines still exist for some reason. Would that work?”

“That sounds perfect. All best.”

They were both quite sticky from all that lube in the cup, and so grains of white sand stuck in every crevice as they rolled across the beach and found a cabana that was currently empty of hunks. Daisy Blue tried to give Bernie some privacy as he slowly eased himself into the grinding fax machine, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t sneak a peek or two.

Now that the important business crisis had been averted, Bernie could finally relax. The email was pretty stiff after going through that fax machine, so Daisy Blue moved him onto the bed and began to massage out his creases. Bernie let out a low growl as Daisy Blue rubbed her dimples back and forth on his wrinkled edges.

Feeling bold, Daisy Blue slowly rolled into the center of the muscular email, her breath getting heavy. Did Bernie want this too? Her heart skipped a beat as the corners of the email began to fold up and meet above her in the center, enveloping the golf ball in Bernie’s paper embrace until she was completely inside him.

Daisy Blue had only been intimate with other golf balls and hunks before, so being with an important business email was a brand-new experience for her. But Bernie was so confident and knew what he wanted, so she let him set the agenda for this sensual meeting and close the deal on her golf-ball heart. Who would have thought that the hunkiest hunk on Hunk Island was an email all along?

Daisy Blue didn’t know a whole lot about flowcharts, but if she made one about how the night progressed in that cabana, it would probably look something like this:

Afterward, Daisy Blue and Bernie joined the other hunks out on the beach as the sun began to lower itself into a sumo squat behind the horizon. The hunks had a campfire going, and Hunky Tanner played a ukulele while Hunky Domingo roasted little sausages on sticks. The ukulele and sausages looked even tinier in their big hunky hands!

Daisy Blue sat on the sand and snuggled her back into Bernie’s chest as he held her close and whispered quarterly projections into her golf-ball ear. All the hot business jargon sent shivers right down to her rubbery core.

Daisy Blue knew that her time at Hunk Island wouldn’t last forever. At some point she’d have to start finding her way back home and pick up with her life where it left off. But she could certainly get used to this.

If only for a little while.

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