Getting dry...

"Well, give me those muddy shorts, boys." Lucy holds out her hands. "Ana will toss them in the washer and dryer for you, while I mix us up some cocktails."
"I'm not stripping unless I see some crisp dollar bills." You try to chuckle, but your throat is tight.
"It's alright." Lucy walks over to the wooden wardrobe near the back door, pulling out three white terrycloth bathrobes.
"So... your dad is Hugh Hefner?" Jack laughs as he snags one from her extended hand.
Jack drops trow, not even bothering to put on the bathrobe first, and tosses his khaki shorts to Ana. You put on the bathrobe first, while Lucy smiles at your modesty.
After you pass your wet, mud covered shorts to Ana as well, she disappears down a hallway.
"What's your poison, boys?" Lucy glides behind the bar.
"Dark and Stormy?" Jack plants himself on a bar stool.
"Sorry, I don't think there's any ginger beer."
"Alright, what about a Mai Tai?"
"That I can do..." Lucy turns to you.
"Oh... Screwdriver, I guess?"
"You got it, James."
Having some drinks isn't a problem, right? You're just taking advantage of a little hospitality and getting some free laundry done.
Lucy makes the cocktails with a flair and skill you didn't know she had. "I was a bartender for a little while." she laughs as she notices your stare. "I got pretty good at the flair tricks at one point."
While she works, she asks Jack more about himself: his job, what he likes to do for fun, what his type is. Jack answers her questions freely and easily, as if he's a bachelor at a singles bar.
Ana reappears as you each take your first sip, wearing her bathrobe loosely enough for you to see that she's not wearing her tank or pants anymore. It's possible she's not even wearing panties under there.
"Where's my margarita, bitch?" Ana giggles, taking the barstool next to Jack. "After dumping me in the water, you should be rubbing my feet!" She drapes one leg over Jack's, and you catch a flash of black fabric. {if Morality < 45
} Good. At least she's still wearing panties. {elseif Morality < 58
} You take a second to appreciate her panties before she nonchalantly re-positions her robe. {else
} Mmm.... black satin thong... strange choice for golf, but you aren't complaining at the view, until she nonchalantly covers up with the robe again. {endif
}