Below is the passage from TR which these pics portray . . .
Frodo moved toward the tee, still fiddling with his grip. “It feels so odd,” he sighed, grimacing and flexing his right hand. “Will you help me figure out the best way to hold the club, Sam?”
Nothing loath, Sam stepped close behind Frodo, and slid his arms around him. “Ah, brings back memories, this does,” he murmured as he placed his hands over Frodo’s on the club.
A smile curved Frodo’s lips. “I admit I might have had an ulterior motive in asking you to help me,” he said, and relaxed against Sam’s sturdy body and lovely hobbit-belly, round once more.
“You had an ulterior motive last time, too,” Sam reminded him.
“That’s true.” He wriggled his behind a little, making Sam gasp, and laughed. “Can you blame me?”
“Frodo Baggins,” Sam scolded, “we’re here to play Golf.”
But they didn’t move for some time . . . .
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