INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER... (Part 24d)
As I remember it, July did not start out all that well. My Grandfather’s racehorses were not doing well and neither was my racecar. I was even struggling in racing my sailboat. With my time stretched so thin I wasn’t getting to spend much time with Elle and a lot of that was interrupted by her period. It really bothered me than we had so little ”personal“ time but I didn’t know what to do about it. The only time I could count on was Sunday night, after the sailing races. Elle would finish up at work, go home and change into her bathing suit and try to get a ride to the sailing club. She was there to, more or less, greet me when I came ashore. She’d try to get in a swim while waiting. My sailing crew, John, would usually have to leave right away to get to his job so Elle was there to help me unrig the boat and to clean it up. If the races ran late, Elle usually had company in the person of Carol, my sailing friend Buddy’s girlfriend. Carol wasn’t particularly pretty and, being generous, could possibly be called ”cute”. She had a nice personality and a good figure to boot. She and Elle had hit it off from the first time they met. I liked seeing Carol for the potential of VPL’s, (she being the one who’s panties had the large crotch). I desperately wanted to find out just who made them and, every time I’d see her I’d go through a litany of wild ideas on just how to accomplish this. Carol’s parents were friends of Buddy’s parents and that’s how they met. Buddy had always spent a good portion of his Summers in the area with his parents renting a house for the season. When the opportunity came to buy the cottage behind the sailing club they jumped at it. Carol, on the other hand, had always spent her Summers at her all year round home fairly close to the city. Her only exposure to the beach and water was as a weekend guest of Buddy. As their interest in each other grew it created a conflict for Buddy. For him to see Carol during the week he had to go back to his all year round house and would have to give up his love of the water. But, this Summer Buddy’s parents were taking a trip for a few weeks and offered the cottage to Carol’s parents. That, to Buddy, was paradise.
I’m thinking that it was somewhere around the middle of the month when this took place. I do remember, after getting the boats cleaned up and put away, being invited up to the cottage for a snack and something to drink and meeting Carol’s parents. Like Buddy’s father, Carol’s father was a Doctor. I remember being impressed by the sports car in the driveway. The only reason I’d agreed to go up there was to be nice to Buddy. I really wanted to get home, cleaned up and to take off with Elle. But, Carol’s parents were charming. After a short while they invited Elle and I to join all of them for a cookout. Elle, gave me one of “those” looks that told me I better say “yes”. So, in spite of being all grubby from the salt water I agreed. Elle happened to be about the same build as Carol. Seeing that Elle was a bit uncomfortable dressed that way, she offered to loan her some clothes. I remember “jumping” on that, knowing that I’d, at last, have an opportunity to find out the brand of panties Carol wore.
Buddy and I were of a similar build so he offered me some dry clothes as well. As the evening wore on, Elle made sure she made regular, timely visits to the bathroom. At one point I sort of remember Carol’s father making a whispered “aside” to her mother along the lines of wondering if Elle had a problem. But I also remember nothing coming of it. I’ll admit that I had a good time, especially after Carol’s parents went inside leaving the four of us alone. I finally put an end to the gathering around 10pm or so, using the excuse I had to be up early for work. I really wanted to go to our old “parking” place by the abandoned garage but Elle was concerned about soiling Carol’s clothes. I tried to convince her that they were the same as her own and that they would wash up without a problem, but to no avail. We ended up out on my dock. As I remember it we just sat and looked at the water, moon and stars. In a number of ways I was “bummed”. Yes, I’d had a good time at Buddy’s, BUT, my personal time with Elle was nothing like what I’d been hoping for. The only thing that I had going for me was that Elle was wearing Carol’s panties. We’d discussed how to get her clothes back to her and, since my work was only minutes away from Buddy’s bungalow, it made sense for me to do it. I WAS excited about that!
In spite of being so very conscientious about regular bathroom visits at Buddy’s, she’d lost track of time once we were out on the dock. We made it to the steps up to the lawn when she let out a little sound of distress. I knew immediately (as did Elle) what was about to happen. Carol had given Elle a pair of khaki shorts and, even though it was dark, there was enough ambient light to watch a dark spot appear in her crotch area and down to the cuffs. Instant bulge! We stood there for a few minutes before I stepped up, took her in my arms and kissed her. I’d guess it was only a minute or so later before my fingers were up under the cuffs of the shorts and onto the panties. I think that maybe because they weren’t Elle’s it made it a bit more exciting. The biggest problem was that we were standing right in front of the front porch of my house. Looking through the windows I could see that the only lights that were on were the ones my parents left on for me after they went to bed. But Elle was uncomfortable so my euphoria was short lived. When we got over to her house she didn’t want to continue so that was it for me for the night. I remember walking home a being very anxious for the next evening to come so I could finally see Carols panties, up close and personal.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER (Part 24c)
It’s really hard to do this without some sort of timeline to guide me so I’ll relate a few ”interesting“ (at least to me) experiences with the car wash.
There were three ways to get a car wash... 1) pay; 2) basically fill up your car with gas and get it free or 3) have you car repaired or serviced and also get it for free. The most popular was to get it for free by purchasing gas. The customers had the option of driving the car into the car was bay or having one of us do it. As I remember it most of the males drove their car in and stayed inside as the car was being washed. Most of the ladies, for whatever reason, wanted us to do it. I liked that because, since skirts and dresses were the norm for that time period, I’d often get a peek, or what I called a “free show” of the ladies panties as they’d turn in the seat to slide out. I’d say I averaged at least a couple every day we were open. It was nice!
Cliff, the station owner had been right in thinking that he’d get increased gas business due to the car wash. One of the new customers was the wife of the local bank’s President. There was a lot of rumors (small town) about her covering a multitude of things. One that was pervasive was that she was an alcoholic. I’d only seen her at the station early in the mornings and nothing had indicated that condition to me. But, when it manifested itself, it was obvious. It was late in the afternoon and, as I remember it, it had been a slow day as it looked like rain. I first saw her car (a big Cadillac) headed across the apron towards the gas pumps. I distinctly remember “freezing” on the spot as I thought, for sure, the car was going to hit them. Somehow she missed them, stopping in front of the car wash. There was dirt and mud all along the side of the car. She yelled at me that she had to get the car washed. Other than seeing her wild arrival I had no idea she was drunk. I asked if she wanted me to drive the car into the bay for her. That started a tirade of foul language directed at me. “You dummy!” was probably the least offensive thing she said. But, with all that she didn’t move from behind the seat. I looked around for Cliff to help me out but he was no where in sight. I finally got her to slide over to the other side so I could get in. I got the car positioned properly and asked if she wanted to remain in the car and, as I remember it, she didn’t answer. After making sure all the windows were up I started the machine. It was a rectangular hoop that was lowered around the car a total of three times. The first was to wet it and the second spewed out the soap. After that I had to run around the car with this big, soft mitt, scrubbing the car as I went. As the hoop was on it’s way down with the soapy mixture, the woman decided she wanted to get out of the car. There was no way to stop the process without running to the back room and throwing the breaker switch on the electric panel. By the time I got there the damage had been done. The woman was covered with soapy foam... and screaming at the top of her lungs. She wanted to see Cliff and started towards the open door, The problem was that, besides her being drunk, the floor was slippery from the soap. She made about three or four steps before falling. Then, when she tried to get up she ended up on her backside with her legs in the air. Even though she was a middle aged woman, getting not just a peek at her panties but a full view was quite a thrill. I offered to help her but she just kept calling me names and told me to stay away from her. If I were to guess I’d say she fell four times giving me the full picture each time. When she crawled outside and to the back of her car she was really a mess.
Cliff had been on a road call and arrived shortly thereafter. He tried to appease her but to no avail. When he realized her condition (drunk), he called her husband at the bank. I know he didn’t pick her up and I also know she never came into the station (at least while I was there) again.
One of Cliff’s friends was getting married that Summer. His fiancee had a child and his car, a 2 door Ford coupe, just wasn’t big enough. He’d knew someone who had 1954 Mercury. I loved the lines of that car but there was no way I was ever going to have enough money to buy one. But that didn’t stop me from coveting one anyway. Tom, the friend, had gotten permission from the owner to have Cliff and his mechanics check it over. When they were done I asked if I could drive it around to the back of the station so as to make room out front. WOW! I was excited. I remember sitting behind the wheel, fantasizing that I was speeding down the road in it. I also remember looking over all the details... radio, dash instruments, upholstery etc. Ahh... but it was not to be, for me.
Cliff must’ve called Tom to tell him that it appeared to be in good shape because, just as I was about to shut the car wash down for the night Cliff told me to wash the car. He also told me to clean up the floors on the inside as best I could. We didn’t have a vacuum at that point in time so I used a small wisk broom. As I was doing the drivers side I saw something white under the seat. I pulled it out and found a pair of panties in my hand. I checked to see if Cliff or anyone else was nearby before “inspecting” them. The first thing I found was stains in the crotch. It didn’t appear to be pee so that left only one other choice. My immediate thought was that the guy who owned the car was onto something good. The next thing I did was to inspect the label. It read “Mojud” on one side and “100% Rayon on the other. They felt like nylon to me. I wondered just what the difference was. As I spread them out on the floor they seemed a little bigger that Elle’s so I checked to see if the size was marked anywhere else. No luck. My next thought was to stuff them into my pants pocket. In cleaning up the car it seemed like anything of value was gone... nothing in the glove compartment and nothing but the jack and spare tire in the trunk. So that’s where they went... to be added to my collection. The only negative thing was that I had no idea what the girl who’d worn them looked like. A small price to pay. (3)
It’s really hard to do this without some sort of timeline to guide me so I’ll relate a few ”interesting“ (at least to me) experiences with the car wash.
There were three ways to get a car wash... 1) pay; 2) basically fill up your car with gas and get it free or 3) have you car repaired or serviced and also get it for free. The most popular was to get it for free by purchasing gas. The customers had the option of driving the car into the car was bay or having one of us do it. As I remember it most of the males drove their car in and stayed inside as the car was being washed. Most of the ladies, for whatever reason, wanted us to do it. I liked that because, since skirts and dresses were the norm for that time period, I’d often get a peek, or what I called a “free show” of the ladies panties as they’d turn in the seat to slide out. I’d say I averaged at least a couple every day we were open. It was nice!
Cliff, the station owner had been right in thinking that he’d get increased gas business due to the car wash. One of the new customers was the wife of the local bank’s President. There was a lot of rumors (small town) about her covering a multitude of things. One that was pervasive was that she was an alcoholic. I’d only seen her at the station early in the mornings and nothing had indicated that condition to me. But, when it manifested itself, it was obvious. It was late in the afternoon and, as I remember it, it had been a slow day as it looked like rain. I first saw her car (a big Cadillac) headed across the apron towards the gas pumps. I distinctly remember “freezing” on the spot as I thought, for sure, the car was going to hit them. Somehow she missed them, stopping in front of the car wash. There was dirt and mud all along the side of the car. She yelled at me that she had to get the car washed. Other than seeing her wild arrival I had no idea she was drunk. I asked if she wanted me to drive the car into the bay for her. That started a tirade of foul language directed at me. “You dummy!” was probably the least offensive thing she said. But, with all that she didn’t move from behind the seat. I looked around for Cliff to help me out but he was no where in sight. I finally got her to slide over to the other side so I could get in. I got the car positioned properly and asked if she wanted to remain in the car and, as I remember it, she didn’t answer. After making sure all the windows were up I started the machine. It was a rectangular hoop that was lowered around the car a total of three times. The first was to wet it and the second spewed out the soap. After that I had to run around the car with this big, soft mitt, scrubbing the car as I went. As the hoop was on it’s way down with the soapy mixture, the woman decided she wanted to get out of the car. There was no way to stop the process without running to the back room and throwing the breaker switch on the electric panel. By the time I got there the damage had been done. The woman was covered with soapy foam... and screaming at the top of her lungs. She wanted to see Cliff and started towards the open door, The problem was that, besides her being drunk, the floor was slippery from the soap. She made about three or four steps before falling. Then, when she tried to get up she ended up on her backside with her legs in the air. Even though she was a middle aged woman, getting not just a peek at her panties but a full view was quite a thrill. I offered to help her but she just kept calling me names and told me to stay away from her. If I were to guess I’d say she fell four times giving me the full picture each time. When she crawled outside and to the back of her car she was really a mess.
Cliff had been on a road call and arrived shortly thereafter. He tried to appease her but to no avail. When he realized her condition (drunk), he called her husband at the bank. I know he didn’t pick her up and I also know she never came into the station (at least while I was there) again.
One of Cliff’s friends was getting married that Summer. His fiancee had a child and his car, a 2 door Ford coupe, just wasn’t big enough. He’d knew someone who had 1954 Mercury. I loved the lines of that car but there was no way I was ever going to have enough money to buy one. But that didn’t stop me from coveting one anyway. Tom, the friend, had gotten permission from the owner to have Cliff and his mechanics check it over. When they were done I asked if I could drive it around to the back of the station so as to make room out front. WOW! I was excited. I remember sitting behind the wheel, fantasizing that I was speeding down the road in it. I also remember looking over all the details... radio, dash instruments, upholstery etc. Ahh... but it was not to be, for me.
Cliff must’ve called Tom to tell him that it appeared to be in good shape because, just as I was about to shut the car wash down for the night Cliff told me to wash the car. He also told me to clean up the floors on the inside as best I could. We didn’t have a vacuum at that point in time so I used a small wisk broom. As I was doing the drivers side I saw something white under the seat. I pulled it out and found a pair of panties in my hand. I checked to see if Cliff or anyone else was nearby before “inspecting” them. The first thing I found was stains in the crotch. It didn’t appear to be pee so that left only one other choice. My immediate thought was that the guy who owned the car was onto something good. The next thing I did was to inspect the label. It read “Mojud” on one side and “100% Rayon on the other. They felt like nylon to me. I wondered just what the difference was. As I spread them out on the floor they seemed a little bigger that Elle’s so I checked to see if the size was marked anywhere else. No luck. My next thought was to stuff them into my pants pocket. In cleaning up the car it seemed like anything of value was gone... nothing in the glove compartment and nothing but the jack and spare tire in the trunk. So that’s where they went... to be added to my collection. The only negative thing was that I had no idea what the girl who’d worn them looked like. A small price to pay. (3)
Thursday, May 24, 2007
INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER... (Part 24b)
Elle and I hadn’t really been out on a “date” since we’d come home. During the previous Summer we often went to the movies on Sunday night. With all that I had going on in my life at that time it seemed like a good idea. The more I thought about it, the more I looked forward to it... so much though that I found myself with a “soft” bulge in my pants.
We decided to go to the 7pm show but had no idea what was playing. So, when we walked up to the theater I remember both of us looking at the posters and shaking our heads negatively. That meant we had a lot of daylight time on our hands. We decided to take a small ferry boat that ran between the mainland and a small inhabited island. Even though it was a bit cool out it was still nice to be outside. Elle, as usual, wore a skirt. When the ferry left the slip we stood up front to get a good view but the moving air was just too cool for Elle. There was a small enclosed room for passengers up over the cars. As we climbed up the stairs, a puff of wind caught Elle’s skirt and blew it up around her waist. I already knew that she was wearing nylon panties (just for me) but seeing them in this way was a turn on just the same. Once in the room we found ourselves alone. Being turned on by seeing her panties I just had to take advantage of it. She resisted because, in her mind, she was still “out in public”. But I was able to overcome her resistance and, although nothing really “interesting“ took place, by the time the ferry arrived at the island my bulge was very noticeable. Because we were ”in public“ I remember Elle thinking my condition was quite funny.
The island was where the regional sailing championships had taken place the previous Summer. Elle had been there on the last day but, because I’d had the boat and car we’d not done any ”exploring“. With nothing to lose we decided to just walk around the area. I’ll admit that I’d been keeping track of the time since we left home and knew it wouldn’t be long until Elle needed a toilet. If we’d been in a position where there was a chance of being around other people I would’ve made and effort to remind her of the time. But, and I’ll admit it was selfish of me, I didn’t, and as I thought of what was soon to happen I could feel my bulge growing. We found a gazebo at the end of the road we were on that overlooked the harbor. With the sun starting to set and the clear blue skies it was a ”Kodak moment“. It was probably a 20 or so minute walk to the yacht club where there was a ladies room. I remember debating with myself on weather to plant the idea in her mind about the time. But I didn’t and ended up being somewhat rewarded for it. We were there, in the gazebo, for probably 10 minutes or so. When we started back down the road I remember Elle letting out some sort of sound indicating something was wrong. Again, I’ll admit that I was excited at the prospect of what was to happen. We hadn’t seen anybody at all when we’d walked to the gazebo and no one while there.
I played ”dumb“ when she let out her sound and asked what was wrong. She asked me what time it was and seemed truly surprised how late it was. But that was the ”trigger“. Once she realized how long it’d been since she’d last been to the bathroom and, on top of what had probably been a small ”leak“, it was panicsville. I remember her looking in all directions around where we were standing. I also remember her asking where she should go as she knew she was going to pee. I know my bulge was visable because I remember hurting "down there". I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back towards the gazebo. I, more or less, dragged her around to the front of the gazebo. It was on a slightly sloped grassy knoll. The floor of the gazebo was right at my shoulder height so I could see if anyone was headed in our direction. Once there I told her to go, that no one could see what she was doing. As I told her that I could feel a ”pulsing“ in my groin area. I couldn’t believe it. Here she was, about to pee her panties, and I’m coming in my pants. I’d not touched myself to have caused it and was totally puzzled. I honestly don’t remember anything about her peeing. I was too concerned about what was going on in my own pants to pay attention to her.
When it was all over, for both of us, it was pretty embarrassing. Because of hurrying and then ending up on a slope, Elle’s pee had mostly run down one leg and flooded her sock and shoe. For me, all I could see was an ever widening wet spot just above my crotch. I don’t remember if we laughed while still there but we did much later on. We ended up sitting on the grass, leaning against the latticework that covered the underpart of the gazebo. I remember Elle taking off her sock and wringing the pee out of it and, after a few minutes, persuading her to lift her knees up and spreading her legs so I could see her panties. I can still see that image today.
Elle, in anticipation of what we’d probably do after the movies, had brought a pair of the Carter’s cotton panties to put on for our trip home. When we finally decided to leave she did slip them on. Convinced that no one could see us she did give me a ”show“ when she pulled them on over the nylon ones. When she was pulling the cotton panties up I got a really good look at the now just damp nylon panties and could see just how far the wetness had wicked up. Being a natural blond. her pubic hair was so light that I couldn’t really make it out. But, by then I’d recovered enough to feel my bulge beginning all over again.
Elle had no problem when we got back to the ferry for the return trip to the mainland. She’d taken off her other sock and her damp panties were covered by her skirt. For me, it was a different story. As soon as we saw people I walked up close to Elle, trying to hide the wet spot which had grown to the size of an orange. Elle thought it was funny and I remember her saying something along the lines of it being good for me. That I deserved to find out what she had to go through. I couldn’t really disagree except for the fact that, in most cases, she wore skirts or dresses which hid her problem. In retrospect, the whole incident made for a very memorable incident.
Elle and I hadn’t really been out on a “date” since we’d come home. During the previous Summer we often went to the movies on Sunday night. With all that I had going on in my life at that time it seemed like a good idea. The more I thought about it, the more I looked forward to it... so much though that I found myself with a “soft” bulge in my pants.
We decided to go to the 7pm show but had no idea what was playing. So, when we walked up to the theater I remember both of us looking at the posters and shaking our heads negatively. That meant we had a lot of daylight time on our hands. We decided to take a small ferry boat that ran between the mainland and a small inhabited island. Even though it was a bit cool out it was still nice to be outside. Elle, as usual, wore a skirt. When the ferry left the slip we stood up front to get a good view but the moving air was just too cool for Elle. There was a small enclosed room for passengers up over the cars. As we climbed up the stairs, a puff of wind caught Elle’s skirt and blew it up around her waist. I already knew that she was wearing nylon panties (just for me) but seeing them in this way was a turn on just the same. Once in the room we found ourselves alone. Being turned on by seeing her panties I just had to take advantage of it. She resisted because, in her mind, she was still “out in public”. But I was able to overcome her resistance and, although nothing really “interesting“ took place, by the time the ferry arrived at the island my bulge was very noticeable. Because we were ”in public“ I remember Elle thinking my condition was quite funny.
The island was where the regional sailing championships had taken place the previous Summer. Elle had been there on the last day but, because I’d had the boat and car we’d not done any ”exploring“. With nothing to lose we decided to just walk around the area. I’ll admit that I’d been keeping track of the time since we left home and knew it wouldn’t be long until Elle needed a toilet. If we’d been in a position where there was a chance of being around other people I would’ve made and effort to remind her of the time. But, and I’ll admit it was selfish of me, I didn’t, and as I thought of what was soon to happen I could feel my bulge growing. We found a gazebo at the end of the road we were on that overlooked the harbor. With the sun starting to set and the clear blue skies it was a ”Kodak moment“. It was probably a 20 or so minute walk to the yacht club where there was a ladies room. I remember debating with myself on weather to plant the idea in her mind about the time. But I didn’t and ended up being somewhat rewarded for it. We were there, in the gazebo, for probably 10 minutes or so. When we started back down the road I remember Elle letting out some sort of sound indicating something was wrong. Again, I’ll admit that I was excited at the prospect of what was to happen. We hadn’t seen anybody at all when we’d walked to the gazebo and no one while there.
I played ”dumb“ when she let out her sound and asked what was wrong. She asked me what time it was and seemed truly surprised how late it was. But that was the ”trigger“. Once she realized how long it’d been since she’d last been to the bathroom and, on top of what had probably been a small ”leak“, it was panicsville. I remember her looking in all directions around where we were standing. I also remember her asking where she should go as she knew she was going to pee. I know my bulge was visable because I remember hurting "down there". I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back towards the gazebo. I, more or less, dragged her around to the front of the gazebo. It was on a slightly sloped grassy knoll. The floor of the gazebo was right at my shoulder height so I could see if anyone was headed in our direction. Once there I told her to go, that no one could see what she was doing. As I told her that I could feel a ”pulsing“ in my groin area. I couldn’t believe it. Here she was, about to pee her panties, and I’m coming in my pants. I’d not touched myself to have caused it and was totally puzzled. I honestly don’t remember anything about her peeing. I was too concerned about what was going on in my own pants to pay attention to her.
When it was all over, for both of us, it was pretty embarrassing. Because of hurrying and then ending up on a slope, Elle’s pee had mostly run down one leg and flooded her sock and shoe. For me, all I could see was an ever widening wet spot just above my crotch. I don’t remember if we laughed while still there but we did much later on. We ended up sitting on the grass, leaning against the latticework that covered the underpart of the gazebo. I remember Elle taking off her sock and wringing the pee out of it and, after a few minutes, persuading her to lift her knees up and spreading her legs so I could see her panties. I can still see that image today.
Elle, in anticipation of what we’d probably do after the movies, had brought a pair of the Carter’s cotton panties to put on for our trip home. When we finally decided to leave she did slip them on. Convinced that no one could see us she did give me a ”show“ when she pulled them on over the nylon ones. When she was pulling the cotton panties up I got a really good look at the now just damp nylon panties and could see just how far the wetness had wicked up. Being a natural blond. her pubic hair was so light that I couldn’t really make it out. But, by then I’d recovered enough to feel my bulge beginning all over again.
Elle had no problem when we got back to the ferry for the return trip to the mainland. She’d taken off her other sock and her damp panties were covered by her skirt. For me, it was a different story. As soon as we saw people I walked up close to Elle, trying to hide the wet spot which had grown to the size of an orange. Elle thought it was funny and I remember her saying something along the lines of it being good for me. That I deserved to find out what she had to go through. I couldn’t really disagree except for the fact that, in most cases, she wore skirts or dresses which hid her problem. In retrospect, the whole incident made for a very memorable incident.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER... Part 24a)
As I’ve previously mentioned, the area I lived in was a Summer destination. Once late Spring arrived, the Summer crowd would start to reappear on weekends and then retreat to their primamry homes during the week. But, once the local schools let out for the Summer more and more families would settle in for the Summer. The “real” Summer, as far as the “locals” viewed it, was the last few days of June up to Labor day in early September. Cliff, the owner of the gas station, managed to raise enough of a ruckus to get the new station completed in time for the Summer rush. I was thankful to be out from under the thumb of my Father (and Mother in his absence) and to get into a daily routine.
One of the attractions of the new gas station was the car wash which I was to run. As a promotional gimmick, Cliff had offered a discount for anyone filling their gas tanks. It was obvious from the outset that he had underestimated the public’s response. I was overwhelmed. After just one day Cliff realized that he had to hire more help. I had a Summer friend, Andy, who didn’t have a job. He was more than willing. We soon discovered that between the two of us we could actually more than double the output of just one person. It was also fun to work with a friend.
The first thing Elle and I did when I got my car back on the road was to go check out the previous Summer’s parking places. I was disappointed to find that a house was being built at our place at the creek. We’d abandoned it anyway but it was still a place with a lot of memories. Our abandoned garage site appeared to be the same so that was option one. The least favorite place, by the old Boy Scout camp, was still viable but certainly not desirable. We both agreed that we needed to look for some other places.
One of the first people to visit the new gas station was my sailing friend, Buddy. He’d come out to get his sailboat ready for the upcoming racing season. He asked if I was ready and I wasn’t. I hadn’t even gotten the boat out of the garage. He told me that his girlfriend, Carol, was coming out on Sunday and they were going sailing. He was hoping that Elle and I could join them. What with the racecar and going to see my Grandfather’s horses race, there really hadn’t been time to work on the boat too. But, once he put the idea in my head... I couldn’t get it out.
Cliff had originally decided not to run the car wash on Sundays because I was going to be off racing the sailboat. Even with Andy there he decided to hold to his decision. I was originally scheduled to work the gas pumps from 8am to noon on Sundays but with Andy now there I offered the hours to him. That allowed me to attempt to get the sailboat ready to go with Buddy and Carol. It took most of the morning to find all the pieces and, with Elle’s help, I was ready to leave for the sailing club before noon. Elle’s mother made some brownies to go along with the sandwaiches my mother had made us and with them in hand we were off.
The sailing club usually opened up, full time, at least a week before the official season started (the weekend closest to July 4). Sometimes it was opened for a few weekends before that but not this year. Because the air and water were still cold, Elle had decided to wear a pair of bermuda shorts and a windbreaker instead of a bathing suit. Knowing I was going to get wet putting the boats in the water, I wore a bathing suit. I “checked” Elle out as we were loading the sails into the car and, much to my disappointment, she’d decided to wear a “package”. Carol, Buddy’s girlfriend also wore shorts and, as soon as I saw her, began checking for a VPL (visible panty line). I was soon rewarded.
It only took a short time to rig and get the boats in the water. The wind, thankfully, was light and was favorable for us to head for a place Elle and I’d sailed to before. We anchored in such a way that the girls could get ashore without getting wet. As we ate I was not only able to get some VPL views of Carol, but also some very good DP’s (downpants). Seeing the VPL’s, I wanted to get some panties like Carol’s for Elle. The only thing was that I had no idea who made them. At least it was a thought for future action.
By the time we were ready to get back in the boats it had been at least three hours since Elle had used a toilet. I knew that the pad in her panties had to be wet and began wondering just how much it would hold. It didn’t take long to find out. About halfway home we had to change positions in the boat. When we did I saw the telltale lines around the leg elastics of her sanitary panties were now wet. I didn’t say anything though. Luckily for Elle, the wind came up and some wave action wet the deck where she was sitting thus hiding the pee leaks. It wasn’t as fortunate for Carol as the wetness on her butt made her light colored shorts almost translucent. The only thing better would’ve been if her shorts were totally wet. We all decided to try for another picnic before the Summer was over.
As I’ve previously mentioned, the area I lived in was a Summer destination. Once late Spring arrived, the Summer crowd would start to reappear on weekends and then retreat to their primamry homes during the week. But, once the local schools let out for the Summer more and more families would settle in for the Summer. The “real” Summer, as far as the “locals” viewed it, was the last few days of June up to Labor day in early September. Cliff, the owner of the gas station, managed to raise enough of a ruckus to get the new station completed in time for the Summer rush. I was thankful to be out from under the thumb of my Father (and Mother in his absence) and to get into a daily routine.
One of the attractions of the new gas station was the car wash which I was to run. As a promotional gimmick, Cliff had offered a discount for anyone filling their gas tanks. It was obvious from the outset that he had underestimated the public’s response. I was overwhelmed. After just one day Cliff realized that he had to hire more help. I had a Summer friend, Andy, who didn’t have a job. He was more than willing. We soon discovered that between the two of us we could actually more than double the output of just one person. It was also fun to work with a friend.
The first thing Elle and I did when I got my car back on the road was to go check out the previous Summer’s parking places. I was disappointed to find that a house was being built at our place at the creek. We’d abandoned it anyway but it was still a place with a lot of memories. Our abandoned garage site appeared to be the same so that was option one. The least favorite place, by the old Boy Scout camp, was still viable but certainly not desirable. We both agreed that we needed to look for some other places.
One of the first people to visit the new gas station was my sailing friend, Buddy. He’d come out to get his sailboat ready for the upcoming racing season. He asked if I was ready and I wasn’t. I hadn’t even gotten the boat out of the garage. He told me that his girlfriend, Carol, was coming out on Sunday and they were going sailing. He was hoping that Elle and I could join them. What with the racecar and going to see my Grandfather’s horses race, there really hadn’t been time to work on the boat too. But, once he put the idea in my head... I couldn’t get it out.
Cliff had originally decided not to run the car wash on Sundays because I was going to be off racing the sailboat. Even with Andy there he decided to hold to his decision. I was originally scheduled to work the gas pumps from 8am to noon on Sundays but with Andy now there I offered the hours to him. That allowed me to attempt to get the sailboat ready to go with Buddy and Carol. It took most of the morning to find all the pieces and, with Elle’s help, I was ready to leave for the sailing club before noon. Elle’s mother made some brownies to go along with the sandwaiches my mother had made us and with them in hand we were off.
The sailing club usually opened up, full time, at least a week before the official season started (the weekend closest to July 4). Sometimes it was opened for a few weekends before that but not this year. Because the air and water were still cold, Elle had decided to wear a pair of bermuda shorts and a windbreaker instead of a bathing suit. Knowing I was going to get wet putting the boats in the water, I wore a bathing suit. I “checked” Elle out as we were loading the sails into the car and, much to my disappointment, she’d decided to wear a “package”. Carol, Buddy’s girlfriend also wore shorts and, as soon as I saw her, began checking for a VPL (visible panty line). I was soon rewarded.
It only took a short time to rig and get the boats in the water. The wind, thankfully, was light and was favorable for us to head for a place Elle and I’d sailed to before. We anchored in such a way that the girls could get ashore without getting wet. As we ate I was not only able to get some VPL views of Carol, but also some very good DP’s (downpants). Seeing the VPL’s, I wanted to get some panties like Carol’s for Elle. The only thing was that I had no idea who made them. At least it was a thought for future action.
By the time we were ready to get back in the boats it had been at least three hours since Elle had used a toilet. I knew that the pad in her panties had to be wet and began wondering just how much it would hold. It didn’t take long to find out. About halfway home we had to change positions in the boat. When we did I saw the telltale lines around the leg elastics of her sanitary panties were now wet. I didn’t say anything though. Luckily for Elle, the wind came up and some wave action wet the deck where she was sitting thus hiding the pee leaks. It wasn’t as fortunate for Carol as the wetness on her butt made her light colored shorts almost translucent. The only thing better would’ve been if her shorts were totally wet. We all decided to try for another picnic before the Summer was over.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
SUMMER... The early weeks (Part 23)
PROLOGUE:
Like the last part of the Spring while at school, I really don’t have a timeline of events to write about. I kept no notes and, if Elle and I wrote, I have no idea where the letters are buried. Pictures, which I have been using to jog my memory, are non existent. It’s not that I don’t recall anything... it’s that I don’t remember very much or the order in which it happened. That means that some of this part will seem disjointed. It is what it is!
===========================
One thing, for sure, is that Elle and I couldn’t wait to get home. We hadn’t seen our homes and parents since Christmas. In Elle’s case it was a bit of homesickness. Going off to college was the first time she’d really ever been away. I had the two years at boarding school, so that wasn’t a problem for me. What I was looking forward to was home cooking, my own bed and being able to see Elle every day. There were other reasons too... the opportunity to make some money certainly headed that list. The race car, my sailboat, and being able to see my Grandfather’s race horses were close behind.
Elle got home a few days before I did. I couldn’t come up with a quick and easy way to get home after final exams and ended up going to my roommate Bob’s house and my father then picked me up there. One thing I do remember from that night at Bob's was that his girlfriend, Susan, had an incredible looking younger sister. I also remember getting a quick DP (downpants) from her as well. In any case, upon arriving at home I was greeted by three pair of pastel panties hanging on our washline... and nothing else. I KNEW they weren’t my mother’s as she wore some kind of girdle. I almost gave myself away when I started to ask my father who they belonged to... but I managed to cover my gaffe. I was soon to find out that they belonged to one of the Grandchildren of the people who owned the house next door. The girl, Maggie, whose family lived in the deep South, had attended college in Boston. She had a job at home for the Summer and wouldn’t be able to spend time with her grandparents but still wanted to see (and spend time at) the water. My Mother had seen the girl standing in front of her Grandparents house (It was a Summer bungalow and hadn’t been opened for the season) looking wistfully at the water. She ended up going out to talk with her and ended up inviting her to stay for a few days. That was OK by me. Even though I only saw her for a week of two each Summer and wasn’t particularly pretty, she was a “fun person” and had always been able to blend in with the regular Summer kids. She’d also “blossomed” in a number of ways and seeing those panties was certainly a turn on.
After unloading my things from the car I went looking for Elle. She and Maggie were sitting in her back yard, talking. When I pulled up a lawn chair I picked a spot where I could get a good view of the washline. Elle must’ve saved up a lot because all the lines were full. On the line that I was facing there were at least a dozen pair of panties, mostly the Carter’s cotton ones. Even though I knew all about them I had a hard time keeping my eyes off them. One thing that was clearly evident was the yellowish tinge in the crotch of all of them. Seeing them, and knowing why they were like that, got me started on a soft, but uncomfortable, bulge.
Our area was a Summer destination. Population would grow four fold from Winter to Summer. The influx came after the local schools let out for the Summer. Since it was early June, none of the Summer regulars were there yet so we pretty much had to entertain ourselves. My mother invited Elle to dinner to eat with Maggie and me and I remember sitting on the floor of the front porch playing some sort of card game. Maggie, being a proper Southern girl, had changed into a dress for dinner and, during the game, gave me some interesting peeks. The unfortunate part about Maggie being there was that I never really got to see Elle alone but for a few minutes when I walked her home. Fortunately, Maggie left the next day. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to inspect the panties that I’d seen on the line.
As I said, our area was Summer destination. Summer help usually didn’t start work until the last week of June. Elle’s mother, who also worked at the drug store, gave up some of her hours to get Elle back in the swing of things as well as to earn some spending money. I was headed back to the gas station with what I hoped would be a very lucrative job. Cliff, the owner (and also driver of my racecar), had sold the property to the oil company that sold him the gasoline. The deal was predicated on the company building a three bay garage with an office and modern rest rooms that they would lease back to him. One of the three bays was to house a car wash and I was to “manage” that part for him. On top of my salary I was to get a commission on each car washed. I was really excited... until I got home. There had been a delay in construction and the only thing that Cliff was able to do was to pump gas. I wasn’t needed... yet.
So, here I was, faced with owing my Grandfather for the “loans” he’d made to me during the school year, and no income. That also put a crimp in just about everything I wanted to do. As much as I detested it I ended up working for my Father doing maintenance on and around the house and dock. My Father treated me just like an employee. I had to be ready to work at 8am; got a half hour for lunch and worked until 5pm. After just one day I realized how easy I’d had it when working at the market and at the gas station. I remember being incredibly thankful when Sunday finally arrived.
There just wasn’t enough time to do everything I wanted to do. My Grandfather’s horses were racing at one of the tracks just outside the city and I wanted to see them in actual races. There was the racecar to work on and, of course, Elle. I managed to, at least, eat lunch with her each day but time at night was at a premium. To see the horse races my Father and Grandfather would leave around 5:30 to 6pm and we usually didn’t get back until around midnight. Leaving at that time barely gave me a chance to shower and eat. Because the gas station was still under construction, we had to work on the racecar at one of the crew member’s homes. For a while I had a problem with my car so had to rely on rides to and from the guy’s house and was at the whim of the driver. So, in spite of wanting to be home so I could be with Elle, it wasn’t working out as I’d hoped.
Now, that’s not to say we didn’t get any quality time together but it was always under less than optimum conditions... like her front porch or on the beach if it was warm enough out at night. Not having a car really sucked! There’s nothing much in my memory bank for these few weeks that’s worth writing about so I’ll just move on...
To be continued...
PROLOGUE:
Like the last part of the Spring while at school, I really don’t have a timeline of events to write about. I kept no notes and, if Elle and I wrote, I have no idea where the letters are buried. Pictures, which I have been using to jog my memory, are non existent. It’s not that I don’t recall anything... it’s that I don’t remember very much or the order in which it happened. That means that some of this part will seem disjointed. It is what it is!
===========================
One thing, for sure, is that Elle and I couldn’t wait to get home. We hadn’t seen our homes and parents since Christmas. In Elle’s case it was a bit of homesickness. Going off to college was the first time she’d really ever been away. I had the two years at boarding school, so that wasn’t a problem for me. What I was looking forward to was home cooking, my own bed and being able to see Elle every day. There were other reasons too... the opportunity to make some money certainly headed that list. The race car, my sailboat, and being able to see my Grandfather’s race horses were close behind.
Elle got home a few days before I did. I couldn’t come up with a quick and easy way to get home after final exams and ended up going to my roommate Bob’s house and my father then picked me up there. One thing I do remember from that night at Bob's was that his girlfriend, Susan, had an incredible looking younger sister. I also remember getting a quick DP (downpants) from her as well. In any case, upon arriving at home I was greeted by three pair of pastel panties hanging on our washline... and nothing else. I KNEW they weren’t my mother’s as she wore some kind of girdle. I almost gave myself away when I started to ask my father who they belonged to... but I managed to cover my gaffe. I was soon to find out that they belonged to one of the Grandchildren of the people who owned the house next door. The girl, Maggie, whose family lived in the deep South, had attended college in Boston. She had a job at home for the Summer and wouldn’t be able to spend time with her grandparents but still wanted to see (and spend time at) the water. My Mother had seen the girl standing in front of her Grandparents house (It was a Summer bungalow and hadn’t been opened for the season) looking wistfully at the water. She ended up going out to talk with her and ended up inviting her to stay for a few days. That was OK by me. Even though I only saw her for a week of two each Summer and wasn’t particularly pretty, she was a “fun person” and had always been able to blend in with the regular Summer kids. She’d also “blossomed” in a number of ways and seeing those panties was certainly a turn on.
After unloading my things from the car I went looking for Elle. She and Maggie were sitting in her back yard, talking. When I pulled up a lawn chair I picked a spot where I could get a good view of the washline. Elle must’ve saved up a lot because all the lines were full. On the line that I was facing there were at least a dozen pair of panties, mostly the Carter’s cotton ones. Even though I knew all about them I had a hard time keeping my eyes off them. One thing that was clearly evident was the yellowish tinge in the crotch of all of them. Seeing them, and knowing why they were like that, got me started on a soft, but uncomfortable, bulge.
Our area was a Summer destination. Population would grow four fold from Winter to Summer. The influx came after the local schools let out for the Summer. Since it was early June, none of the Summer regulars were there yet so we pretty much had to entertain ourselves. My mother invited Elle to dinner to eat with Maggie and me and I remember sitting on the floor of the front porch playing some sort of card game. Maggie, being a proper Southern girl, had changed into a dress for dinner and, during the game, gave me some interesting peeks. The unfortunate part about Maggie being there was that I never really got to see Elle alone but for a few minutes when I walked her home. Fortunately, Maggie left the next day. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to inspect the panties that I’d seen on the line.
As I said, our area was Summer destination. Summer help usually didn’t start work until the last week of June. Elle’s mother, who also worked at the drug store, gave up some of her hours to get Elle back in the swing of things as well as to earn some spending money. I was headed back to the gas station with what I hoped would be a very lucrative job. Cliff, the owner (and also driver of my racecar), had sold the property to the oil company that sold him the gasoline. The deal was predicated on the company building a three bay garage with an office and modern rest rooms that they would lease back to him. One of the three bays was to house a car wash and I was to “manage” that part for him. On top of my salary I was to get a commission on each car washed. I was really excited... until I got home. There had been a delay in construction and the only thing that Cliff was able to do was to pump gas. I wasn’t needed... yet.
So, here I was, faced with owing my Grandfather for the “loans” he’d made to me during the school year, and no income. That also put a crimp in just about everything I wanted to do. As much as I detested it I ended up working for my Father doing maintenance on and around the house and dock. My Father treated me just like an employee. I had to be ready to work at 8am; got a half hour for lunch and worked until 5pm. After just one day I realized how easy I’d had it when working at the market and at the gas station. I remember being incredibly thankful when Sunday finally arrived.
There just wasn’t enough time to do everything I wanted to do. My Grandfather’s horses were racing at one of the tracks just outside the city and I wanted to see them in actual races. There was the racecar to work on and, of course, Elle. I managed to, at least, eat lunch with her each day but time at night was at a premium. To see the horse races my Father and Grandfather would leave around 5:30 to 6pm and we usually didn’t get back until around midnight. Leaving at that time barely gave me a chance to shower and eat. Because the gas station was still under construction, we had to work on the racecar at one of the crew member’s homes. For a while I had a problem with my car so had to rely on rides to and from the guy’s house and was at the whim of the driver. So, in spite of wanting to be home so I could be with Elle, it wasn’t working out as I’d hoped.
Now, that’s not to say we didn’t get any quality time together but it was always under less than optimum conditions... like her front porch or on the beach if it was warm enough out at night. Not having a car really sucked! There’s nothing much in my memory bank for these few weeks that’s worth writing about so I’ll just move on...
To be continued...
Friday, May 04, 2007
SPRING... Finishing out the year (Part 22c)
For some reason, the memories of that Spring are vague and, in spite of trying to sort them out and make some semblance of order out of them, I can’t. I do have some specific instances that were (and are) memorable for varying reasons and I’ll relate them as best as I can.
I know Elle declined my invitation for Spring party. She didn’t particularly enjoy Winter party and the wild actions of the fraternity brothers. That, and the fact that there was something that was happening on her own campus that she wanted to take in. That left me ”free“, if you could call it that. As a pledge, I was required to be a ”slave“ and act on the behest of any ”brother“ during the weekend. I didn’t particularly enjoy that even though it provided me the opportunity to see some interesting actions by the brothers. The best view I got was when one brother had his date sit on his lap and straddling him. She did have her panties on and that caught my attention more than anything else.
The highlight of the weekend came after it was officially over. For some reason, the administration decreed that the weekend was officially over at 2pm on Sunday. There were still some girls on campus after that hour and that included my roommate, Bob’s, girlfriend. My ”slave“ duties were over at 2pm, as well, and I headed back to my room to get some much needed sleep. When I walked into the room with our bunks I saw Susan’s open suitcase on Bob’s bed. No one was in the study room so I had no idea where they might be. I stood there staring at the open suitcase and, right on top, was a pair of light lavender panties. It was like they were purposely put there to tempt me. I darted out into the hall and called Bob’s name and, not hearing a reply, ran back to the bed. I carefully noted just how the panties were folded as I picked them up. As I held them up to inspect them I immediately saw a stain in the crotch. It was about the size of a half dollar and as I touched the crotch I found it to be somewhat stiff. It was, obviously, cum. Now, an interesting thing about Bob and I as roommates... we never got into just ”how far“ we’d gone with our respective girlfriends. I now knew how far Bob had gone!
But I was also very interested in the panties themselves. There were lace appliques on the front about where the hip bones would be. I checked the label and they were made by Kayser and were size 6. Susan was taller than Elle but didn’t look bigger in the hip area so that was a surprise. Elle wore size 5 in a nylon panty and they fit quite nicely. The panties had a very interesting treatment around the leg openings as well. They did have elastic (very thin) but, instead of lace, there was a flared, narrow layer of nylon. I was intrigued. If it wasn’t Bob’s girlfriend, I might’ve actually taken them. I put them back exactly where they had been and then climbed up into my bunk and went to sleep. The panties must’ve left a pleasant impression as I woke up to find I ‘d had a wet dream.
Another memory of that Spring was on a quick visit to see Elle. Donny, my classmate who lived in the same town as Elle’s college, was on the baseball team and couldn’t get home all that often. After a home game on a Saturday when his brother had driven over to see Donny play, he convinced him to drive him home. For some reason, I hadn’t planned on visiting Elle that weekend but happened to run into Donny as he was on his way to his room to get his things. He told me what he was doing and invited me to go with them. There was no time to contact Elle but I decided to just do it anyway. By the time we arrived at Elle’s campus it was almost 5pm. Neither Elle nor her roommates were in their room when the girl at the desk checked. Being close to dinner time I headed for the SU. There were about a dozen wide steps leading to the entrance doors. Because it was finally getting warmer and the fact that the cafeteria didn’t open until 5:30pm, there were a lot of girls sitting on the steps, sunning themselves. It was an upskirt voyeur’s dream come true! As I approached I couldn’t believe my eyes. There were at least a half dozen girls in skirts (or dresses) sitting with their legs either tucked up under their chins or with them slightly spread. I didn’t know where to look first. I’m sure I was blushing as i made my way (slowly) up the steps. I remember one girl in particular as she turned around (while still seated) to look at someone behind her. With the sun shining on her, I got a slow motion "free show". The front crotchline seemed especially high on her abdomen, almost as high as the one on Elle’s sanitary pants. The image (and memory) were burned into my brain.
Becuse I hadn’t let Elle know that I was coming over she’d made plans to go to an informal party at her new Sorority house. I finally caught up with her around 9pm or so. We spent the time until curfew in the SU lounge. It was nowhere near as crowded as it was during the winter. We got one of our favorite seats but Elle was wearing a ”package“. It took me a bit of persuasion to get her to go to the bathroom to at least take off the sanitary panties and pads. She was ”nice“ in that she didn’t wipe but ”playing“ with her while wearing the heavy Carter’s cotton panties was a bit of a let down. I don’t remember much else other than staying at Donnie’s house. I don’t think I even got to see Elle before we headed back to school.
That’s about it for that Spring.
To be continued...
For some reason, the memories of that Spring are vague and, in spite of trying to sort them out and make some semblance of order out of them, I can’t. I do have some specific instances that were (and are) memorable for varying reasons and I’ll relate them as best as I can.
I know Elle declined my invitation for Spring party. She didn’t particularly enjoy Winter party and the wild actions of the fraternity brothers. That, and the fact that there was something that was happening on her own campus that she wanted to take in. That left me ”free“, if you could call it that. As a pledge, I was required to be a ”slave“ and act on the behest of any ”brother“ during the weekend. I didn’t particularly enjoy that even though it provided me the opportunity to see some interesting actions by the brothers. The best view I got was when one brother had his date sit on his lap and straddling him. She did have her panties on and that caught my attention more than anything else.
The highlight of the weekend came after it was officially over. For some reason, the administration decreed that the weekend was officially over at 2pm on Sunday. There were still some girls on campus after that hour and that included my roommate, Bob’s, girlfriend. My ”slave“ duties were over at 2pm, as well, and I headed back to my room to get some much needed sleep. When I walked into the room with our bunks I saw Susan’s open suitcase on Bob’s bed. No one was in the study room so I had no idea where they might be. I stood there staring at the open suitcase and, right on top, was a pair of light lavender panties. It was like they were purposely put there to tempt me. I darted out into the hall and called Bob’s name and, not hearing a reply, ran back to the bed. I carefully noted just how the panties were folded as I picked them up. As I held them up to inspect them I immediately saw a stain in the crotch. It was about the size of a half dollar and as I touched the crotch I found it to be somewhat stiff. It was, obviously, cum. Now, an interesting thing about Bob and I as roommates... we never got into just ”how far“ we’d gone with our respective girlfriends. I now knew how far Bob had gone!
But I was also very interested in the panties themselves. There were lace appliques on the front about where the hip bones would be. I checked the label and they were made by Kayser and were size 6. Susan was taller than Elle but didn’t look bigger in the hip area so that was a surprise. Elle wore size 5 in a nylon panty and they fit quite nicely. The panties had a very interesting treatment around the leg openings as well. They did have elastic (very thin) but, instead of lace, there was a flared, narrow layer of nylon. I was intrigued. If it wasn’t Bob’s girlfriend, I might’ve actually taken them. I put them back exactly where they had been and then climbed up into my bunk and went to sleep. The panties must’ve left a pleasant impression as I woke up to find I ‘d had a wet dream.
Another memory of that Spring was on a quick visit to see Elle. Donny, my classmate who lived in the same town as Elle’s college, was on the baseball team and couldn’t get home all that often. After a home game on a Saturday when his brother had driven over to see Donny play, he convinced him to drive him home. For some reason, I hadn’t planned on visiting Elle that weekend but happened to run into Donny as he was on his way to his room to get his things. He told me what he was doing and invited me to go with them. There was no time to contact Elle but I decided to just do it anyway. By the time we arrived at Elle’s campus it was almost 5pm. Neither Elle nor her roommates were in their room when the girl at the desk checked. Being close to dinner time I headed for the SU. There were about a dozen wide steps leading to the entrance doors. Because it was finally getting warmer and the fact that the cafeteria didn’t open until 5:30pm, there were a lot of girls sitting on the steps, sunning themselves. It was an upskirt voyeur’s dream come true! As I approached I couldn’t believe my eyes. There were at least a half dozen girls in skirts (or dresses) sitting with their legs either tucked up under their chins or with them slightly spread. I didn’t know where to look first. I’m sure I was blushing as i made my way (slowly) up the steps. I remember one girl in particular as she turned around (while still seated) to look at someone behind her. With the sun shining on her, I got a slow motion "free show". The front crotchline seemed especially high on her abdomen, almost as high as the one on Elle’s sanitary pants. The image (and memory) were burned into my brain.
Becuse I hadn’t let Elle know that I was coming over she’d made plans to go to an informal party at her new Sorority house. I finally caught up with her around 9pm or so. We spent the time until curfew in the SU lounge. It was nowhere near as crowded as it was during the winter. We got one of our favorite seats but Elle was wearing a ”package“. It took me a bit of persuasion to get her to go to the bathroom to at least take off the sanitary panties and pads. She was ”nice“ in that she didn’t wipe but ”playing“ with her while wearing the heavy Carter’s cotton panties was a bit of a let down. I don’t remember much else other than staying at Donnie’s house. I don’t think I even got to see Elle before we headed back to school.
That’s about it for that Spring.
To be continued...
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