I took a second swing and missed. “Fuck!” I mumbled under my breath, each time. I took a third swing and again missed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I ...emarked. Evan laughed. “Do you need some help?” “I don’t know what I am doing wrong!” I declared. Evan stepped from the golf cart. He put his hands on my waist and repositioned me by the ball. My bald pussy was only inches from his crotch. I could tell he had a huge hard on. I pushed my ass up against him and wiggled my butt, brushing against his. She’d seen more vascular pathology than James and Arbuckle combined. I’d have bet a nickel that it had been her that suggested calling me. She pushed a large right-angle vascular clamp at me and I understood instantly what she was thinking. Blind clamp above the renals and gain control of the occult bleeding site. Interrupting renal perfusion was normally a real concern, but on balance, renal hypoxia was the least of this patient’s problems at that moment. As W. C. Fields is purported to have. More

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