AUGUST... The backside of Summer... (Part 26e)

Elle and her mother had decided that she would have her “procedure“ the last week in August. The doctors had told them that she’d need a week for recovery and she was due to head back to college the day after Labor Day. The actual date would be determined by the availability of the operating room at the hospital. With that in mind Elle decided to stop work after the last Sunday in August.

My time with Elle had been severely restricted during most of August what with her working as many hours as possible to make up for the lost time for her upcoming operation. Even though I had most afternoons off, she didn’t. As I explained earlier, getting off work at 11pm left me with no choice but to see her at her house for less than an hour each night. We’d gotten ”adventurous“ one night and almost got caught by her mother. That ended that. One thing that helped me mentally was the fact that she had her period for a week during that time.

Elle finished up work when the store closed at 6pm that last Sunday and I, just coming home from the local sailing races, picked her up. What should’ve been a night to spend alone with her was punctuated by the annual combined birthday party for our Fathers. By the time we were ”excused“ it was around 9pm. When we got up to leave we were asked where we were going. We didn’t have an answer so it was ”suggested” by both our mothers that we stay around. I’d anticipated the time alone for days and to say I was upset is to put it mildly. Unfortunately, my immaturity pretty much killed whatever it was that we were going to do. One thing that Elle and I talked about though was the fact that we’d not been on a sailing picnic the whole Summer. I hadn’t really thought about it but later, up in my room, I did and remembered the really good times we’d had.

The next morning, a Monday, Elle, who was no longer working called me at the gas station. Her operation had been scheduled for Wednesday and she called to ask if it were possible to try for a sailing picnic. I knew it was since I had afternoons off but what I really needed was to get off a little earlier than usual (1pm). I immediately asked Cliff, my boss, if I could leave early. The car wash business was really slow that day and recognizing that one person (Tony) could handle it told me I could take off as soon as Tony arrived. He reminded me to be back by 7pm though. I called Elle back and told her I was on my way. By the time I got to her house she’d already made up the lunches and had a thermos of home made lemonade ready to go. I remember she was wearing shorts and a blouse and when she said she was going to change to her bathing suit I asked her not to. I’m pretty sure she asked why but agreed to go as she was. We had to go back to my garage to get the sails and other necessary gear before we could leave. The only concern I had was in who I could get to help us get the boat down the beach and then into the water.

Luck was with me as Tom, the newest member of the sailing club was there working on his boat. He’d taken the week off and planned to teach his wife Jane, who was with him, the nuances of sailboat racing. After talking with him we worked it out that we’d help each other. I did have some concern that he’d want to sail along with us but, after getting both boats into the water, he still had more work to do on his boat. I got the sails up as quickly as possible and we took off.

The wind was out of the North. Knowing that the prevailing wind in the afternoon came out of the south, it made sense to head across the bay so that we’d have an easy trip both going and coming. With the wind behind you it’s pretty much brainless sailing. We both sat in the cockpit with Ele facing me. That was good because as she moved about I could get panty peeks up her leg openings. I was somewhat disappointed in that she was wearing the heavy cotton Carters Spanky Pants and not nylon ones. In any case, we’d been sailing for a while when she jumped up to sit on the deck. I asked what was wrong and she admitted that she’d leaked and was going to pee. Out of somewhere I told her to take her shorts off so she wouldn’t pee in them. She hesitated, looked all around, and, seeing no boats around, stood up and let the shorts fall into the cockpit. Then she sat back down and ooched her bottom out towards the outside of the boat. I remember telling her not to go too far so she wouldn’t fall over if a puff of wind hit us. (That wasn’t going to happen and I knew it) I moved forward and looked right at her crotch as she began peeing. It’s something that’s totally burned into my memory. I watched her pee build up in the triangle between her legs. It was like watching a bowl getting filled. I was also wearing shorts and my penis was trapped as it continued to grow. She stopped before it ran over the coaming and into the cockpit but I was transfixed as I watched the pool of yellow slowly disappear. She was watching me and my face the whole time. When she’d finished she made some sort of comment about me getting “excited” whenever she wet her panties.

I honestly don’t remember us ever having a talk on this particular subject before. I, of course, knew it was true and I guess I sort of thought that she understood. But it was obvious that she’d not put much, if any, thought into it. The conversation for the rest of the way was totally on that subject. It was embarrassing for me but I realized that I couldn’t hide from it any longer. I, without going into any of the detail I’ve given in this whole blog, told her about my fascination with girls wetting themselves. She had some questions for me but the sum and substance of it for her was to be reassured that my interest in her wasn’t driven by her wetting problem. I don’t remember having to plead with her to believe me that I was in love with her and not her peeing. I did have to admit that it was a very sexual thing for me though. I know we didn’t get much further than that before we arrived at the other side of the bay and I had to decide where to go ashore.

To be continued...