ANOTHER NEW YEAR... high hopes (Part 125b)

ANOTHER NEW YEAR... high hopes (Part 125b)

Being the “busy period”, things were hectic at the bank even after the doors were closed to the public. A couple of the tellers had experienced problems when trying to prove up at the close of business which meant Laura and her boss, the auditor, were very much involved in the process. Normally, after work Trish would drive Laura to where she was staying during the work week. However, on this night she couldn’t wait for her and had left before Laura was done. When the tellers finally balanced up Laura came over to see me as I’d asked her to do. The first words out of her mouth were to ask if I could give her a ride. I’d done it a few times and it was only a little inconvenient so I agreed. My intention, when I’d asked to have her meet with me, was to let her know that I was in no rush for her to pay back the loan. But, it became quickly obvious that she had another idea.

She started out apologizing for not having made any payments in so long. In spite of my efforts to make her stop talking she continued on. She said that she had a hard time looking at me during the day knowing that she owed me, an officer of the bank, money. I continued to protest but she was determined. She went on to say that she no longer had to pay James (my friend, the service station owner) and his wife for staying at their house and that she was now doing some bookkeeping and clerical work for his business in lieu of it. That, and the year end bonus that she received, allowed her to start repaying her loan. When she finished I commended her on her desire but told her that I was far more concerned about her well being than the money. She didn’t quite comprehend my point so I had to explain it to her.

When Trish and I had loaned her the money back in the early Summer it was for her to buy some work appropriate and yet stylish clothes. With Trish as her guide she’d done well. But now it was Winter and she was still wearing some of those clothes although they were well out of season. I knew Trish had provided her with one of her old Winter coats and had figured that she’d been wearing some of Peggy’s (the daughter of James) old clothes from high school. I really didn’t know how to phrase the message that she was out of style so “beat around the bush“ for a few minutes. Finally, I told her that what I’d really wanted to do as her ”Secret Santa“ was to buy her some appropriate clothes. Both she and I were embarrassed after I told her. I think we both apologized after I did. Then I told her that I’d come up with the idea of giving her the money that she’d shown me earlier that was on the abandoned account list. I told her that if she hadn’t noticed it and pointed it out to me that it would be sent to the State and no one would benefit from it. I could see the rose color rising in her cheeks as she primarily looked into her lap, occasionally glancing at me. I had to ask her twice if that was OK with her before she finally nodded her approval.

Trying to ease the sense of tension that had built up I tried for a bit of levity by asking her what had happened when she fell face first in the lobby. It had been a number of days and I thought that she’d gotten over the embarrassment. It was plain to see that she hadn’t. With her cheeks all flushed pink she sat there shrugging her shoulders and then started to apologize for ”making a commotion“. I tried to let her know I was teasing but she couldn’t see it. In her eyes she’d embarrassed herself as well as the bank. When Trish had told me who the panties in her waste basket belonged to I’d promised her not to say anything to anyone. Knowing that they did belong to Laura I can’t really explain why I went on to ask her just what had happened.

Because of some of the things I’d done to help her, Laura felt like she had to be completely honest with me and, after a few false starts, explained what had happened that morning. She’d gone to the mortgage department to fetch some folders to audit and, after stepping into the elevator, felt her ”underpants“ (her word) start to ride down a bit. With both arms filled with folders she didn’t have a free hand to try and readjust them. When the elevator reached the first floor there were customers waiting to board so she had to get off. She told me she tried to ”shuffle“ along but it didn’t work and they ended up falling down and caused her to trip. The funny thing was that I didn’t feel anything of a sensual or sexual nature as she explained the situation to me and I felt guilty for having asked her to explain it to me. The whole time she was speaking she just looked into her lap which made me feel even worse. Hindsight can be a punishment in itself and I felt somewhat that way as we sat facing each other.

NOTE: I’m going to back up a bit at this point and go back to the ”bantering“ Trish and I were doing about Laura’s panties that had been found in her waste basket.

The ”bantering“ had gone well enough that led me to fantasize that I could possibly get into a conversation with her about panties. One of the exchanges prior to her telling me that they belonged to Laura had gone somewhat along the lines of: Me...“if they aren’t yours then what do yours look like?” Trish... “wouldn’t you like to know!” Me... “you bet!... I dare you to show me!” Trish... "not even with a gun to my head!“ Me... ”I bet you don’t even wear panties.“ and at that point she stuck her tongue out at me and walked away. Then, a few days later, we happened to be leaving the bank at the same time. I was on my way to a Chamber meeting and she to lunch. Somehow I summoned the nerve to approach the panties subject again. However, this time I took a serious approach. Without going into the detail (which I really can’t remember) I told her that if she was ever interested in buying lingerie at a discount that I had a friend in the business. I do remember her giving me one of those ”I don’t believe you just said that.“ looks. I told her I was dead serious and pointed to my briefcase when I told her I had catalogs. With a somewhat dubious look on her face she asked what I was doing with them. I enhanced the story about one of Elle's friends (Pat) wanting to start a bridal business and had put my friend in contact with her. After hesitating for a few seconds she asked to see them. When I gave them to her I put the Sans Soucie one on top. It had Willie’s business card stapled to it with a hand written message to me right on the front. I was really excited when she asked if she could take them home. Remembering her making me promise not to say anything about Laura’s panties I did the same to her about the catalogs. She said she was running late and would let me know her thoughts the next day. To say that I was excited was putting it mildly.

To be continued...

ANOTHER NEW YEAR... high hopes (Part 125a)

ANOTHER NEW YEAR... high hopes (Part 125a)

But first, a few words from the sponsor... errr... author...

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When I started writing this “tome“ I had no idea where I’d go with it. Whereas a good bit of it is from memory, there’s also been a lot gleaned from various types of notes and/or records that I’ve kept over the years. The first were little 3” by 5“ spiral pads followed by the old ”Composition“ notebooks that were a staple in schools back ”in the day“. I made a few abortive attempts at a diary but with limited results. When I took my first job in banking, my boss, Alvin, a VERY neurotic individual, bought me a ”Day Timer“ to make sure I did all I was expected to when I was expected to do it. The first thing on Monday mornings was to get his weekly assignment and to write it in the book. But that was all that was written in it. Since I was the only one to look at it I decided to use all the empty spaces to make notes of interesting things that happened at work. After a while I started adding weekends since there were pages for those days. When we bought the house Elle started keeping a record of the things we did to it to make it ”our own“ along with the costs. Photo albums were also used to jog my memory.

I’ll admit to being very anal when it comes to keeping things. I hate to throw anything away. Not a hoarder, I concentrate on anything that has a memory attached to it. With the end of the last year a lot of my resources have somehow disappeared including my ”Day Timers“. Starting with our first house we’ve only had four residences so I can’t blame moving for the missing material. We’ve been in our present house for going on 30 years and if there’s one thing that I have to live with on a constant basis is listening to Elle tell me to get rid of some of the stuff. I haven’t... but there are some things that I just haven’t been able to locate. I don’t want to even think that Elle might’ve disposed of them.

So, what I’m saying is that going forward the writing will not always be in a time line like it has been. From here on in our photo albums will be the primary resource. I also have the ”personnel log“ that I kept at work which will help me with the comings and goings there. I’m not exactly sure how it will play out and as I move forward may try some different formats. One that I’m thinking of would be to take a situation and follow it through to some sort of ending. Another might be to take a memory of a female and follow her for a period of time. All I can say is ”Thank You” for following Fancy Panties. It’s been in existence for almost eight years and I still enjoy reliving my memories. I hope you do too. Now, back to the story...

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The reason for the sub title “high hopes” is that in April I’d be 30 years old and would finally have control of the trust fund my grandfather had started for me. By this time our “want/need” list was heavily weighted on the want side and Elle and I had agreed that it was time to do some things that we’d not been able to do. We’d resisted the credit card “trap” with the exception of our Sears card. And, with that one we’d almost always been able to pay off the balance each month. We also vowed not to deplete the fund as we fulfilled our desires.

As expected, the fallout of the “group” resurrecting the progressive dinner party on New Years Eve was the reaction of Pat (the PTA lady) when she returned from her trip. Nanci and Phyl were her closest friends and she wouldn’t speak to either of them after finding out about it. Because the “group” was unanimous in it’s purpose to effect changes at the school, they also recognized how important Pat was to that goal. The one thing that she’d been relentless about was in trying to find a candidate to run in the June election. So, after a bunch of phone calls, Bob, Phyl’s husband, finally agreed to do it and that was enough to get the “group” back in Pat's good graces.

Early in that first week of January Elle got a call to come in to teach for at least a week and for possibly more. That was like an added Christmas present. I was also eligible to make another loan against the trust fund that would be used to pay for heating oil and the last minute Christmas present of the bathroom fixtures for Elle. All in all, it looked like we were getting off to a good start.

Work on Sandy’s “dribble panties” got put on hold as Elle found herself being really tired after a day at school and then having to face the household chores and her Brownie troop. Big “B” showed up on one of the early weekends with news that he’d bought the racing engine that I’d found for him. He was “hot to trot” to pick it up and for us to take it apart and to rebuild it. Pro football was now over so that meant Sunday afternoons were pretty much free. Elle wasn’t all that happy about it even though Sunday afternoons had pretty much been mine since the weather got cold. “B” had readied the garage for us to work in and, being single, had a hard time accepting that married men had “responsibilities”. The name of the guys he usually hung out with went by the name “The unmarrieds”. I knew I had to walk a fine line to make the whole racing thing work.

At work, the “busy period” went fairly smoothly with no major problems. It was obvious that business had picked up in the two years that I’d been there. I attributed it to the advertising program that we’d undertaken. However, there were signs that we were about at capacity when it came to the processing of transactions. I’d been charged with doing research on upgrading the equipment and the possibility of having an outside service do the processing. It had come to a screeching halt when the Board heard the price. Watching the long lines I made a note to revive my research.

Speaking of work, my banter with Trish about the panties that had been found in her waste basket before Christmas continued. It was all light hearted and not mean. On one of the first days back Laura came up to me holding a list. It was all of the “abandoned” savings accounts. The State required banks to turn over the balances of all accounts that hadn’t had any activity over a certain period of time. I don’t remember if it was ten years or less at that time. She pointed to a name on the list that was certainly familiar... it was mine. But there was another name on the account as well. It took me a few seconds to recognize it as my grandmother’s maiden name. The balance was only around $40. I told her that I’d look into it before the money got sent to the state. However, that wasn’t the only thing she had for me as she handed me a $10 bill. It was another payment on the money I’d loaned her for clothes soon after her hiring. I’d pretty much forgotten about it and told her that it wasn’t necessary. She insisted but we were in the middle of the work area and I didn’t think it appropriate to discuss it at that time. She agreed to stay late so we could discuss it further.

To be continued...

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124n)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124n)

The start time was 6pm for cocktails and we, as non drinkers, decided to be a bit late. Roughly an hour was allocated for each of the first two stops with approximately 15 minutes to get from house to house. We left Jon and Ginger's house a little early to get all the ”goodies“ out and displayed at our place. Once we arrived at home Susan shepherded the kids upstairs so they were not only out of sight but also out of mind. Aurelia, our co-host was, supposedly. a former model. I didn’t think so but who was I to know for sure. Certainly attractive, but not ”model pretty“, she was a few years older than Elle and I. She and her husband had four daughters with one making friends with Anne, our second oldest. It was through that friendship that led her to be involved with the ”group“. Her husband was a surgeon and, as you can imagine, because of that they were considered ”well to do“. I was intimately familiar with the house they had purchased as I had played with (and had a crush on) one of the girls that had lived there back before I had a drivers license (See Part 6c). Wine connoisseurs, their contribution for the stop at our house was fine wine to go with our hors d'ouvres.

If there was one thing we’d been worried about it was Rob, the budding alcoholic in the ”group“. However, luck, or whatever you want to call it, was with us. He’d been sick over Christmas and had been put on medication. His doctor had told him that alcohol and the pills did not mix but he’d ignored the warning only to have a violent reaction. So, that, and with his wife and brother watching him, he behaved. The visit to our house went well with the exception that we were all a bit late to Phyl’s and Bob’s house for the main course, baked ham. With Sandy as co-host, they managed to put together a really great meal. We dawdled a bit and didn’t get to Nanci and Fritz’s house until just before midnight. They’d decorated their basement for the New Year’s celebration and had a TV set up so we could watch the ball drop in Times Square. They also had champagne.

Up to the time we arrived at Nanci’s there had been absolutely no chances for panty peeks or the like. We mostly just stood (or sat) around chatting. Arurelia and Mark had provided new ”life“ to the group as they discussed their worldly travels. I’d only had a few sips of wine. I really didn’t want to partake of the champagne but was goaded into it for the midnight ”toast“. To this day I can’t explain why I continued to imbibe. Elle and I left around 2am with Elle driving. Back at home, all I wanted was to ”crash” in bed, which is just what I did.

The next thing I knew it was daylight and when I looked at the clock by the bed it was after 10am. I rolled over to feel for Elle but all I felt was a cold wet spot. It was enough to make me sit up... and to realize that my head felt like it was twice the normal size. I needed aspirin and quickly. I pulled on my good pants which I found in a heap along side the bed. Barefooted, I made my way, slowly, down the stairs. At about half way down there was an arch that gave a view out into the living room. As I approached it I could hear the kids laughing so stopped to take a look. What I saw was almost enough to cure my hangover. It was Susan on her hands and knees with Kaye riding on her back... but, when Kaye had climbed on she’d drawn the hem of Susan’s nightie up so that she was sitting on it, fully exposing Susan’s white pantied backside. All I can say is that I got a good look until Susan carried Kaye into the den and out of my sight.

At that point I definitely needed some aspirin... and to find Elle. Making my way into the kitchen I could hear the water running in the shower and guessed it was her. After downing a few aspirin I returned up the stairs. My first thought was to go back to bed but knew that as soon as Elle arrived she’d have me up again. So, biting the bullet, I headed for the upstairs bathroom to get washed up and shaved. I had to walk past the room that Susan had slept in and as I did I was surprised to see that she’d made the bed up and had laid out her clothes on it. There was no way I was going to pass up the chance to look at her panties, up close and personal.

Each item was laid out with her socks being to the left followed by her panties, bra, sweater and pants. My headache went away as soon as I had my hands on the panties. Careful to note how she’d had them folded I quickly turned them inside out looking for the label. I recognized it as being the same one that I’d seen that time I’d stopped at her house and found the folded wash on the picnic table. A script “Nylon” on one side with a circled numeral “5” on the other. I even knew where they came from... the Woolworth’s 5 & 10 cent store in the town where I worked. If there was one memorable thing about them it was the width of the crotch... it looked to be at least 4 inches across. I knew I didn’t have much time so put them back and disappeared into the bathroom.

Elle was getting dressed when I returned. My head hurt too much to even think about making a request for wearing some fancy panties. By the time I got downstairs again Elle was talking to Susan, still in her nightie. It fell just above her knees but was too opaque to be able to see through it. I remember Elle handing her a towel and suggesting that she go ahead and take her shower now and that by the time was done and dressed she’d have breakfast ready. Susan tried to decline but when Elle asked her if she’d eaten anything that morning she admitted that she hadn’t. She said she'd given the girls cereal and a banana but hadn’t fed herself. Elle prevailed and Susan stepped into the bathroom.

 I went out to get the Sunday paper (even though it was a holiday) and was headed for my recliner when I almost ran into Susan, wrapped up in the towel, leaving the bathroom. Because the room was so small, it didn’t take much to steam it up. What Elle and I would do after a shower was to raise the window for a few minutes to let it air out. When I opened the door I could hardly see the window for the steam. It was located right behind the toilet and sometimes, because of all the moisture, it would swell up and be hard to open. This was one of those times. It meant having to straddle the toilet bowl to get enough lifting purchase to open it up. After achieving success I started to back away and as I did I looked down. There, right in front of me on top of the toilet tank cover, was Susan’s nightie and panties. I wasn’t sure of just where Elle was but decided to chance it and picked up the panties. Susan, when stripping them off had turned them inside out. The label was right there for me to read and it was the same as the one’s upstairs. But, these had just come off her body so I took a look at the crotch. There was definitely a “discharge“ but there was still too much steam to get a good ”read“ on it. I did put them up to my nose but the scent of the bath soap was permeating the air so that didn’t accomplish much. I dropped them back on top of the nightie and continued backing away from the window.

Elle had made a cheese omelet and, after seeing (and smelling) it decided that I’d have some as well. While eating we chatted with Susan about her plans for the future. She told us she’d applied to a few colleges but what she wanted was to be a pharmacist. Working at the drugstore in the village had whetted her interest in the field. When I went to pay her she refused to take all of it saying that she shouldn’t be paid for the time she spent sleeping and playing with the kids. I was impressed but vowed that somehow, some way she’d get the rest of the money. When I dropped her off at her house she told me that we had to come to a varsity basketball game to see her cheer. I promised that we would.

To be continued...              

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124m)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124m)

The “goodwill” from my Christmas gift of new bathroom fixtures was still in play and, fortunately for me, Elle’s period wasn’t. She was usually very “chaste” when it came to wetting for me when the kids were still up but she’d been very generous. By mid week I’d finally remembered to buy some more Polaroid film. One of the promises I’d elicited from her during this euphoric period was that I could take a “wet” picture of her. After the kids were in bed we’d ended up “playing around” in the den in just our underwear. In spite of my “aroused“ state I had the idea of a picture in the back of my mind. When she suggested that it was time to head upstairs I countered with ”How about a picture?“ Her initial reaction was to wrinkle up her nose but it changed to one of resignation. At that point I knew I was home free.

The one thing I’d learned from previous ”questionable“ pictures was that she wanted it to be done quickly. I’d conjured up at least a dozen poses and now, on the spur of the moment, I had to come up with one before she changed her mind. Before I could verbalize one she started up the stairs. I was right behind her and would’ve been satisfied to have her just stop halfway up and bend over. I tried to get the words out of my mouth but it was like I was tongue tied. Once in the bedroom she told me I had until the count of ten to come up with something. With the image of her wet butt climbing the stairs I told her to face the chair by the closet, and bend over. By then I’d opened the bellows of the camera and was somewhat ready. I pushed the shutter button and as soon as I did she turned around and reminded me that I was only going to get one. I waited until she headed for the bathroom to develop the picture. It was OK but it certainly wasn’t like any of the ones I’d come up with in my mind.

The picture cost me... a good time in bed. Pictures did that but I knew there was another night coming. We talked in the dark for a while. The New Year’s Eve party that had been discussed by the ”group“ (the people headed up by Pat {the PTA lady} that had worked to get a change in the makeup of the local school Board) had been cancelled. It turned out that I wasn’t the only one who had become tired of Pat’s controlling ways. The party was to be progressive dinner where we’d go to four different houses. When Pat started to tell people what they would be expected to do and who they were to do it with there was a revolt. However, when that happened Pat made other plans. Phyl had contacted Elle earlier in the day to ask if she was willing to help reorganize the dinner. She hadn’t said anything to me earlier knowing that I wasn’t too keen on the idea, with or without Pat. Elle had learned that it was a lot easier to try and ”sell“ me on an idea with little or no light. I lay there and listened to all the reasons why it would be fun, still not totally convinced. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she really wanted to do it. Knowing she was vulnerable I told her that it would cost her another picture. There was dead silence... for at least a minute. Then I heard a barely audible ”OK“.

I didn’t give any more thought to it until the morning. It was then that it was I, not Elle, who remembered that New Years Eve was the one time each year that her parents went out. Well... what they actually did was to visit with the couple who had stood up for them at their wedding. That meant they wouldn’t be able to baby sit for us. I left for work leaving that problem for Elle to solve.  

At work, it was easy to see that Trish was still embarrassed from our conversation from the night before. Getting eye contact with her was difficult. About mid morning, during a slowdown in customer traffic, I decided to ”zing“ her. She’d come to my desk for me to sign something and, after I did, I, very quietly, said something along the lines of ”If they really weren’t yours then just what do you wear?“. She took about four steps before it registered and she turned around and stuck her tongue out at me. I laughed and she went back to her desk.

At some point that morning Elle called. Because she hardly ever did it scared me. It turned out to be somewhat trivial and could’ve waited until I got home. We didn’t have a cadre of people to call for babysitting and were only familiar with Susan (from the ”panty house“). Finding that she was away and unavailable, Elle had run out of people to call. Her ”panic” was that we were to host the “hors d’oeuvres” part of the progressive dinner and if we dropped out of the party it would foul up the whole thing. I certainly didn’t have the answer and was a bit upset with her for two reasons. First, for not remembering that her parents weren’t available and then agreeing to be a part of the party and second, for calling me at work.

That night, at home, Elle was pretty discouraged. She’d talked to the other participants and had told them we wouldn’t be a part of it but would still host what she’d agreed to. I asked Elle if she’d asked Susan’s mother about her other daughter and she hadn’t. Even though I felt it was going to be a waste of time, I called. I’m not sure the mother actually knew who I was but told me that her younger daughter already had a job. It made sense seeing that it was only a few days until New Years Eve. When I finally got through to her as to just who I was she told me she’d just heard from Susan and that she’d be home Saturday,  a day earlier than expected. I remember asking her to plead with Susan to sit for us that evening but was told it would be up to her to make the decision herself. She warned me that Susan would be tired because the trip from Vermont was a long one. I thanked her and told Elle that we (she) might be “saved“ after all.

The progression of the party was that it started with drinks at Ginger and Jon’s, co-hosted by Lisa and Rob, her sister and brother in law. Next stop would be our house for appetizers. Elle and I were to be assisted by the new additions to the ”group“. Aurelia and Mark. From there it was over to Phyl and Bob’s for dinner, with their neighbors, Johnnie and Sandy co-hosting. We were to end up at Nanci and Fritz’s house for desert and champagne at midnight. To me, it seemed like an awful lot of work.

Elle, ever the optimist, had her clothes all picked out that afternoon. It was almost dark when the phone rang... and it was Susan. I could tell she wanted to say no but as an inducement, told her that once the kids were in bed that she could go to sleep. I remember not getting a response. Out of the recesses of my brain came the next words from my mouth... ”Why don’t you bring your things and sleep here?“ Again, a period of silence. Then she asked if I really meant it. I did (but not for the reason you’re probably thinking) and restated it giving her reasons why it made sense. To seal the deal I had to talk with her mother. If there had been more time I’m sure Elle would’ve ”rewarded“ me.

To be continued...

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124l)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124l)

Just as the whole family was getting seated for the turkey dinner the phone rang. It was Celia calling to wish us a Merry Christmas. Even though the food was being served I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was in the middle of dinner. She sounded sad and said that although the house had been listed Vic hadn’t actually shown it. Sophie was doing as well as could be expected in her new surroundings and she closed by saying that when the weather got warmer, come Spring, that they’d be up to say ”hello“. As I retuned to the table I actually felt bad that it was celia who’d initiated the call.

It was a typical Christmas dinner, at least as far as my family was concerned. My parents and brother left shortly after eating while Elle’s family stayed. Both Elle and I were dead on our feet not getting to bed until after 3am and then back up before 7am. I knew Elle’s ”promise“, after receiving her ”throne“ present, was dead as well. I’d used all the film up so couldn’t even hope for a picture before going to bed. I don’t remember what time we finally made it but I do remember that no one, not even the kids, woke up before 9am, a new record. Because Christmas was on a Sunday, we had Monday off... thank goodness! We played with the kids and Elle let me ”play“ with her, not wiping after using the toilet and even giving me a ”squirt“ or two. I was mad at myself for not having enough Polaroid film.

Back at work on Tuesday I found an envelope on the seat of my chair. It was a Thank You card from Laura. It didn’t take much in the way of thought processing to figure out that Trish had told her even though we weren’t supposed to share that information. I went over to Trish to scold her but before I’d even gotten a few words out she interrupted to tell me that she’d arranged for me to get Laura in the gift exchange. As she told me she had a smile on her face. I’d gotten a nice elongated shoe horn but had no idea from just who it had come. It took a little while before everyone settled into the work routine again.

I’d been called to Cara’s window to appease an upset customer. The lady had thought that the ”busy period“ started that day and that she could withdraw her money without losing all her interest. She was just one day early. I was trying to calm her down when I saw laura exit the elevator with an armful of file folders. She’d only taken a few steps before she fell, face first onto the carpet with the file folders fanning out in front of her. Even though Trish was closer to her than I was, because I’d seen her fall I was there before she was. I squatted down by her head asking if she was OK and I saw Trish by her feet and removing something from around them. Some customers had come over to help and we got her to sit up. Someone asked what had happened and she said she didn’t know, only that she’d tripped and ended up falling. Trish took over her care while Bret and I picked up the folders.

Trish had taken Laura to the ladies room. I saw Trish getting her coat and going out the front door and wondered what was going on. My first thought was that Laura had hurt herself and Trish had gone to the drug store. She was only gone a short time and without taking her coat off headed right for the ladies room. I had no idea what had or was transpiring. Laura reappeared within minutes and went right to work. I headed right to Trish’s desk. All she’d tell me was that ”I didn’t need to know“.

Because the next day was the first day of the ”busy period“ I stayed late to make sure everything was ready for the expected onslaught of customers. The people from the cleaning service usually arrived around 6pm or so. They were early that night and I was surprised to see the owner, Ward, among the crew. He was a very pleasant ”colored“ man (remember, we’re still in the 60’s) and whenever I saw him we always had some laughs. It turned out that he’d allowed some of his help to have a few extra days off and was filling in for them. As much as I liked chatting with him I did want to get home so cut our banter short. I was about five steps into the lobby area when he called to me. I turned and saw him holding a pair of panties up that he’d just fished out of Trish’s waste basket. He had the widest grin I’d ever seen on him and made a comment about the ”wild times“ we must’ve had that day.

As I walked back to him he held them out towards me. I could see the waist elastic was very stretched out. The condition of the panties and where Ward had found them gave me a good idea what had happened to Laura that day. I quickly figured they’d probably fallen down around her ankles and tripped her up. I would’ve liked to have taken the panties but, with discretion being the better part of valor, I didn’t. It was on my way home that I remembered Trish’s quick trip outside while Laura was still in the restroom. I came to me that she'd just run next door to the W. T. Grant store to get a pair of panties for her. On my way home those thoughts occupied my mind and made for a quick trip (and a bulge in my pants). I’ll admit that I fantasized about the whole situation with Laura while trying to get to sleep that night. I was trying to come up with a scenario that would allow me to get her some new panties but I couldn’t.

Wednesday was the first day of the busy period and all the employees in the tellers area of the bank had been asked to arrive a little early and to be ready to ‘go” as soon as the doors opened. Trish was among them. I swear that I’d not given any thought to bringing up the panties that the cleaning service owner had found the previous night. However, Trish had felt guilty about running out without asking after Laura had fallen and felt she should apologize. She didn’t explain why she’d left and I, somewhat surprised by the apology, didn’t ask. After an awkward silence I blurted out a question... “Did it have anything to do with what Ward had found in your wastebasket.” As soon as I asked it I wished I hadn’t. The look on her face was one of pure shock. I immediately apologized to her and I was so embarrassed that I have no idea what I said.

As I’ve learned, you can never tell how people in a crisis will react. The crisis here was of a personal nature and not physical or of life and death. It only took a few second before she mumbled “They weren’t mine!” and looked away. All I can remember is the two of us standing at the corner of my desk, staring, red faced, at each other. I guess you could’ve called it a “stare down“. Trish finally broke the silence saying emphatically, ”Really!“ I honestly didn’t know what to say and after a few seconds she returned to her desk.

The lobby traffic was actually busier than expected but the day went smoothly. The tellers were in proof and on their way out the door before 6pm. I could’ve stayed but was tired and,  because we were still in the Christmas season, wanted to get home to play with the kids and their new toys. As I locked the door and turned to go to my car, out of the darkness came Trish. She didn’t waste any time, pleading with me to believe her that the panties weren’t hers. I hadn’t, right from the beginning but earlier had put myself in a ”box” and hadn’t known how to get out of it. I stood there and told her, a couple of times, that I didn’t think they were hers. While telling her the second time she put her hand on my arm and said something along the lines of “If you promise you won’t tell anyone I’ll tell you who they beloned to.”  I didn’t have time to give her an answer before she told me they were Laura’s. After she told me I was able to say “I promise!” There was still an uneasiness between us but I finally broke it by saying something like “I hoped they weren’t yours.” which brought a smile to her face as she walked away.

To be continued...

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124k)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124k)

As excited as Elle was about us having our own (real) house there was one thing that ”bugged“ her. Even though the previous owners had done a lot of remodeling, some of their choices, when it came to colors was... well... hmmmm. One of my father’s favorite sayings when people would make some questionable choices when it came to fashion was ”They have all their taste in their mouth.“ As far as the colors for our downstairs bathroom were concerned, that was truly the case. Pink wall tiles with puke green for the fixtures. She’d dropped hints for the whole year and I’d pretty much ignored her. To get the picture that I closed out the last post with I promised that I’d get the fixtures changed after the first of the year.

I still had three days of vacation due me but had actually run out of time to use all of it. The bank had a ”use it or lose it“ policy and, by that Thursday, there were only three days left before the ”busy period“ began and where no vacation time was allowed. Bret, with seniority (time wise) over me had put in for the day after Christmas and I had resigned myself to that. Hobie, as a vice president, had put in for the two business days prior to Christmas which meant I’d lose the three days vacation time. Up to that Thursday morning I had no real ”need“ for any time off but now, wanting some time to get to my friend  Judith’s boutique to get Elle some gifts without her knowing, I did. I ended up contacting Hobie and asking if there was any possible way to get a half day off either that afternoon or Friday afternoon. I guess it was the holiday spirit that had been generated at the previous day’s ”get together“ that led Hobie to let me have Friday afternoon off. I did have to barter with Bret to take the extra hour on Friday night but it was a small price to pay.

Right after lunch hour on Friday I headed East. Judith, as usual, was glad to see me and her face really lit up when I told her I needed something extra nice for Elle. It took her less than a minute for her to disappear into her store room and return holding an absolutely beautiful bath robe. I didn’t need for her to show me anything more (especially after she told me the price). I had her wrap it up in nice Christmas wrapping. While she was doing that I took a look in the lingerie area of the store. It seemed that it was still in the same disarray it had been the last time I’d been there. I couldn’t miss seeing the distinctive blue Van Raalte boxes which gave me an idea.

When I’d gone looking for the Modern Globe panties in Elle’s panty drawer to make up the pair of ”dribble panties“ for her I realized that she hardly ever wore the van Raalte panties. Her reasoning was that she didn’t want to ”ruin“ her fancy panties. There were probably 40 to 50 panties in the drawer and half were fancy panties with most worn only once or twice. I decided to go dig out a few pair and wrap them up for her just to give her more things to open. 

It had taken less than an hour and a half to get to Judith’s, get caught up on things with her and to buy the robe for Elle. With time to spare I decided to stop in at the local plumbing supply store and price out the new toilet and sink for Elle. She wanted them to be pink to match the tile and they actually had them in stock. However, there wasn't enough time before Christmas to have them installed so the owner suggested that I take a toilet seat to give her as her present. I loved the idea.

Right next door was the shop where one of the guys I’d raced against had garaged his racecar. I'd heard that he'd gotten married and sold his car. I figured it wouldn't hurt to stop and see if he still had a motor around. The guy wasn’t there but his father was and when I told him I was looking for a motor I remember his face lighting up. He took me over to a corner where there was a tarpaulin. He pulled it away and under was a complete motor. He said they wanted $250. The price was right but I needed to talk with Big B first, AND, I needed to know what was in the motor. I gave the man my name and telephone number and decided I still had time to go find ”B“. Being a Friday afternoon I knew he'd be back at his company's office. There was a Christmas party going on when I arrived it was obvious that he’d been into the ”schnapps“. That, and the fact that it was a pretty rowdy group, I made the decision to wait to talk about the motor for another day. As I was leaving, B told me he had something for Elle and I and would drop it off either the next day or Sunday, Christmas eve.

It turned out to be late Sunday afternoon when he showed up. Elle and I had started our own Christmas tradition where we’d put the tree up after supper on Christmas eve, read the kids ”Twas the Night Before Christmas“, send them off to bed and then let ”Santa“ decorate the tree when he brought the presents. B’s present to us were venison steaks from a deer that he'd shot. We’d had them before but Elle was unsure how to properly cook them. She asked B what was the best way and once he started telling her she came up with the idea to invite him for supper so he could oversee her efforts. Unmarried, B had nothing planned so agreed. It turned out that he did the cooking and the steaks were great. He'd been very good with the kids and they ended up asking him to stay until they went to bed and he willingly did. At that point I decided to ask if he wanted to stay and help decorate the tree as an auxiliary Santa... and he did.

Watching this 300+ pound man hanging tinsel was worth a picture. He was almost as big as the tree, as you can see...    
                              

Big B, at work as Santa

It was a great Christmas for the kids. After the previous year when the majority of their presents turned out to be clothes they were really excited to get games, dolls and their accessories. I waited until all our shared presents were opened before I brought out the "throne". I'd taken a bunch of pictures of the kids and Elle opening their presents but saved the last one for just this moment.
                              

The best seat in the house!

Elle's reaction was all that I'd hoped for. The reaction of the kids was really funny... "Why did you get mommy a toilet seat?" Even when Elle explained it to them they still didn't understand. Of course Elle wanted to know when the plumber was coming to install her presents. The only answer I could give her was that she'd have them before the New Year.

When we were picking up all the torn wrapping paper Elle told me to "check her out". I did and found her to be quite wet. She'd been wearing her new "dribble panties" but this was more than a dribble. Smiling, she whispered to me that she wished that our parents weren't due to arrive within the hour and that she didn't have to get the turkey in the oven. I did too! But I did elicit a "promise" for when we went to bed. It was something to think about and to help me endure a long afternoon entertaining both sets of parents as well as each of our brothers.

To be continued...

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124j)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124j)

I wasn’t in the best position to take advantage of the ”show“ but I got a fairly good look. It wasn’t good enough to tell what kind of panties she was wearing but I did get a bit of a look at both the front and back crotch line. Once it was determined that she was OK everybody cheered. Jerena, never one to shy away from attention, promptly took a bow and walked away with her gift. The next memorable ”event“ was when Bret called Trish up to get her gift. As he handed it to her he told her that her gift was special and because of it she had to open it in front of everybody. Trish was the exact opposite of Jerena, not wanting any attention at all focused on her. The group started clapping, calling for her to be a ”sport”. After a minute she finally started to unwrap what appeared to be a ball. It wasn’t. It was a fairly large lump of coal which brought out immediate laughter. Bret took the opportunity to sort of explain the reason. I’m not sure many people understood but she sure did. The best way to describe it was “Payback is hell!” and that was Bret’s way of getting back at Trish for getting him to play Santa. (NOTE: I tried, right up until I left the bank, to find out just what Trish “had” on Bret but she never did explain it)

When all the gifts were dispersed, Bert made another announcement. Lena, his secretary had moved up along side him and was holding what looked like a shoe box. He said he had a token of appreciation from the bank and that Lena would be at the back door when the employees left to hand them out. A majority of them stayed after 5pm which told me that the whole idea had been a success. As usual, I was among the last to leave and Lena was still by the back door. She handed me my envelope and I smiled and wished her a Merry Christmas. I still, to this day, don’t know why I didn’t take a look in the envelope until I got home. Actually, I didn’t... Elle did. I thought it was a Christmas card so gave it to her to add to her card display. When she opened it something dropped from the card and onto the floor. I stooped over to pick it up and when I saw what it was I knew it would be a very Merry Christmas. It was a check for over $300.

A little background... The bank had a history of giving a year end bonus. For those who’d been employed for the whole year it was usually 5% and was paid as part of the last paycheck of the year. I started in March of the previous year and when I got mine felt that I’d been short changed. They had a policy of only paying half (2 1/2%) to those who started after the first of the year and nothing to those who started after July 1st. Because I felt strongly about the unfairness of it I took it upon myself to express my concern to the Trustee who was chairman of the salary committee. At the same time I also mentioned that the timing of the payment would be much more appreciated if it came before Christmas. He wasn’t upset with my observation but he also didn’t say anything to indicate that he agreed with me so, more of less, let the thoughts die. Now, it was obvious he’d taken the idea up with the whole Board and they had made the change. The only question, and not important at that very moment, was did every employee get some sort of bonus.

I remember the two of us holding on to each other and dancing around in circles. The girls thought we'd gone crazy. The one thought I remember was that now I’d be able to buy some nice Christmas presents for Elle. Even though she’d given up the money for them to buy new clothes for Sophie, our old neighbor, I still had managed to get a few rather mundane things for her. This money would change that. The overriding problem was that I only had  a few days to buy them. It was too late to order anything from the catalogs so I was on my own. My first thought was to go to my old friend, Judith, and her boutique. I just had to find a way to get there without Elle knowing.

Once we got past the excitement of the check and the money I did manage to ask Elle how she’d made out in her visit to the fabric shop. JoJo, the owner, had suggested french terrycloth and Elle had purchased a small amount. We agreed to give it a try after the kids were in bed. While she was doing that I took a look at the material and it looked like it would work. I laid a pair of Sandy’s panties over a piece of stiff paper and made a pattern of the crotch area. I was in the process of cutting a piece of the material when Elle returned. She was as excited as I was. However, once I had the two pieces cut and tried to insert them between the nylon layers of the panties I had a few problems. First, the two pieces of terrycloth were thicker than the Spanky Pants crotch that we’d used in our first efforts and wouldn’t fit through the hole I’d cut. The second problem was that they wouldn’t stay together like the Spanky Pants ones that were sewn together at both ends. I got the sewing machine out and Elle went to work. I enlarged the hole in the panties and after a short while I set about to insert the finished product into the panties. It took some effort to get it to lie right and then Elle hand sewed in place.

Even though they were for Sandy and a size 4, I tried to persuade Elle to slip them on over her own panties. She wouldn’t do it but I didn’t give up. I ran upstairs and rooted through her panty drawer and found the Modern Globe size 5 panties that I’d bought during the Summer. When I reappeared she wanted to know where I’d gone and when I held out the panties she frowned. I probably shouldn’t have told her that they were the exact same kind that Sandy had brought over but that they were her size, a 5. Then she wanted to know where I’d gotten them. After explaining that she gave me one of those looks that said I was “nuts” while shaking her head from side to side.

It took less than half the time that it had taken to make up Sandy’s. Again, I asked her to try them on but she deferred saying that she would when we went up to bed. There wasn’t much I could say but did ask if she was willing to make up another pair for Sandy. She said “No”, that she wanted Sandy to try the one’s we’d just made first. So, we watched some TV before heading upstairs. As I got up to follow her I spied the Polaroid camera on my desk. It was loaded with film in anticipation of Christmas pictures. Since Elle had promised to try on her new “dribble panties” I wanted a picture of her in them so the camera came with me.

The panties fit her like a glove, actually fitting better than the Evette panties we’d used in our first attempts. Actually, it was the first time she’d tried the Modern Globe panties. As I ran my hand over them I was truly impressed with how sexy the satin finish felt. By then Elle was tired and wanted to get her “package” on and into bed so didn’t have much patience with me. I knew that I’d be "pushing it“ in asking for a picture but I did anyway. I was told ”No way!“

Armed with the bonus money, I knew that I could ”barter“ with Elle and that’s what I did. However, she wouldn’t let me have a body shot and I had to settle for a crotch shot. In looking back on it, it was the perfect one for the time.

Modern Globe "dribble panties"

To be continued...  

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124i)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124i)

There was no way to inspect Sandy’s panties until Elle took the lead to do so. If I’d made the suggestion she would’ve been upset with me. I suffered through supper and a period of playing with the kids. When Elle finally sent them upstairs and followed soon after I had my first chance. I’d figured they were probably on the dining room table as that’s where we worked on the prototypes. However, I didn’t dare turn on the lights because Elle would see the additional brightness when she went to put Kaye into bed. So... I walked in from the kitchen and saw a nice, neat pile on the table right where Elle liked to sit. I grabbed it, careful not to disturb the order and fashion they were in. I went back into the kitchen and laid the pile on the counter by the door carefully taking the top pair off. I could feel that they were also nylon satin and actually a better grade of nylon than the Evette panties. I quickly flipped them inside out and found the label... ”Modern Globe“, size 4.

I smiled to myself because it was the same company that made all the Lollipop cotton panties I’d seen through the years and had bought for Elle and the kids. It took a few seconds for me to realize that I’d bought some of the very same ones just a few months earlier in the town where my brother worked. I’d bought three pair and hadn’t really integrated them into the rotation that Elle drew from. Now I was really excited but knew I had to get the pile of panties back on the table before Elle returned.

I retreated to the den where I’d been when Elle  sent the kids upstairs and hoped she’d suggest that we go to work on the panties. No such luck. There was something coming on the TV that she wanted to see. I’m not the most patient person in the world so it seemed like the show moved along in an excruciatingly slow fashion. By the end of it my patience was gone. I got out of my recliner and was just about to bring the subject of the panties up when Elle asked if I wanted to take a look at what Sandy had brought over. I’m also not a very good actor so my attempt at being half interested failed. I remember her making a comment along the lines of her never knowing me to pass up a chance to look at panties.

There were six pair in all. Elle picked one up and I remember her commenting on how nicely they were made. She also made a comment about how it seemed to be a waste to cut into brand new panties. We’d used her stained ones to make up the prototypes. I scanned down the pile and swore I  could see some discoloration on a few near the bottom of the pile. I pulled the bottom pair out and spread them out on the table. Nowhere near as stained as the Evette panties that we’d used, there was a somewhat golden hue in the crotch. I immediately suggested that we start with them. I made the hole in the crotch but then I realized that to put the same cotton crotches that we’d previously used we’d have to cut up some more of Elle’s stained Spanky Pants. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough... there were probably over a dozen still in her panty drawer... but it was that they’d be going into Sandy’s panties and I wasn’t sure that was proper. Elle sat and thought about it for a minute or so and then came up with a solution. She'd buy some new cotton fabric to insert into Sandy’s panties.

Right before Thanksgiving a new store had opened in our town. Located next to the post office, a combination sewing, knitting, fabric store had started operating. It was owned and run by the wife of the man who’d driven my racecar when I was still in high school. I knew and liked JoJo but had no real reason to go in the store. Elle knew her from the racecar days and said that she’d stop in and ask her advice. Immediately I had a concern about that idea and told Elle of the reason for my concern. I suggested that she ask about a heavy, absorbent cotton that might be good for hand towels. Elle agreed that that might be smarter and that was it for the night.

The mood at work the next day was positively upbeat. I could see a few small wrapped packages sitting under the tellers counter and on a few desktops. The ”small talk“ during the coffee break was all about the ”get together“ and the Secret Santa idea. As I mentioned, I’d drawn Laura as the recipient for my gift. I wanted it to be meaningful and useful so asked Trish, her cousin, for an idea. She gave me an immediate suggestion of a toilet water fragrance that Laura liked and even went so far as to tell me where I could buy it. At lunch I made my way to the drugstore across the street and, although the cost was more than the suggested range that had been put forth, I not only bought it but paid a little extra to get it gift wrapped.

At 4pm all the employees gathered in the lobby. As part of the costume that I’d gotten from the Chamber of Commerce for Bret there was a decorated gift sack. He'd slipped out around 3:30pm or so and a little after 4pm there was a rapping at back door. Hank, the messenger custodian, immediately got an annoyed look on his face. He absolutely hated it when anyone, be it a customer, salesperson or deliveryman, arrived after 3pm, the closing hour for the bank. I watched him amble towards the door and when he saw Santa he yelled out ”It’s Santa.“ and the affair was underway. Bert, the bank president, had to say a few words to greet Santa and then Bret took a seat on the stairway to the second floor. He called out a few names and gave out their gifts but it was a bit awkward. The bag of gifts was located in front of him with the recipient having to lean over it to actually get the gift.

The bank would often allow various charities and civic organizations to set up displays in the lobby and sometimes they would be manned. To save them the trouble of lugging tables and chairs into the bank we’d purchased a few and stored them under the stairs where Bret (Santa) was sitting. Surprisingly, it was Hank who suggested getting one of the folding chairs out for Bret to sit on. It solved the problem as the sack of presents was now by his side. It went pretty smoothly until Jerena’s name was called. As previously written, she could be unpredictable and this turned out to be one of those times. Not everyone knew that Bret was playing Santa but Jerena did. After her name was called she kind of sidled her way over to him in a provocative way. Then she promptly sat on his lap, such as it was with all the stuffing inside the costume. Bret didn’t know what was going on and just sat there as she made a pass at him. When she tried to kiss him he pulled away and Jerena ended up on the floor.

To be continued...

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124h)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124h)

We were supposed to go to the monthly party with the “group” (Pat {the PTA lady}, Ginger, Phyl, their husbands and a few others) that night but I was still upset with Pat and her controlling ways. She and her husband were hosting it and that made me say “No!”. If anyone else had been hosting I probably would’ve gone. Elle wasn’t all that happy with me when I told her I didn’t want to go but had become resigned to the decision. Being involved in making the “dribble panties”, Elle had pretty much forgotten the party.  

It was when Elle was preparing supper that I heard a very clear “Uh oh!” I’d been playing a game with the kids in the living room and when I saw Elle dash into the bathroom I was right behind her. She’d managed to get her slacks and panties down before the “flood” and I waited until she pulled her panties back up to put my hand in her crotch to see if they had worked. The Evette panties were nylon satin tricot, my favorite lingerie fabric, especially when wet.  The crotch was more damp than wet which indicated that the cotton insert between the nylon layers of the panty had done it’s job. Elle had me check the crotch of her slacks and although I could feel just a slight dampness, there was no indication of it on the outside when she pulled them up. I wanted to stay and “rub“ a bit but Elle pushed me off. She had some things cooking on the stove and the kids were basically right outside the door on the living room floor. I did get her to agree to continue the ”test“ and to leave the damp panties on, promising not to use the toilet until the next ”dribble“.

I was counting on that happening in about 2 to 2 1/2 hours, her normal safe period. But, for whatever reason, she actually lasted until after the kids were in bed (8pm). I was in the den watching TV when she came down the stairs. I remember asking her if she had to go and she shook her head negatively. She hadn’t been seated for very long though, when she jumped up and I was right there with her, step for step. She pulled down her slacks and I thrust my hand between her legs... a little wetter than the first time. At that point I put my other hand on her shoulder and sort of pushed her down onto the seat. I thoroughly enjoyed what followed. The wet nylon, cushioned by the cotton, felt wonderful. When her flow stopped I managed to get my index finger inside the leg elastic... and it got much better from there.

We ended up with a towel on the sofa and a very satisfying encounter. After catching our collective breaths, we got washed up and Elle put on her nightie and panties. We went back downstairs and returned to the dining room. I was still excited about how well the ”dribble panties“ had worked and with another pair of Evette panties lying on the table, picked them up and started making the hole in the crotch. It took less than 20 minutes to make another pair and with the insert sewn in place. If it hadn’t been so late I’m pretty sure Elle would’ve called Sandy.

After church we visited with Elle's parents. She had promised to go so her father could spend some time with the girls. As it turned out, her parents asked if we would leave them for the afternoon. They were amenable to it especially when Elle’s mother told them they could make cookies with her. I already knew Elle wanted to get the newest pair of ”dribble panties“ to Sandy. I wasn’t surprised when she told me she had them in her handbag. So, we made a trip to Sandy's neighborhood. I know Elle was disappointed when Johnnie answered the door. Sandy was off visiting but he promised to let her know Elle wanted to see her.

We were home for a few hours when the phone rang. It was Sandy. I couldn’t hear the conversation but Elle was definitely upbeat when she came back into the room saying that she was going to run over to Sandy’s. Thinking of the situation the night before when I took Sandy home I wondered if Elle had asked her to come over to our house and been turned down. In all, Elle was gone for an hour and it was time to go get the girls. I knew what had taken place so had no hesitation in asking how Sandy liked the panties. Elle didn’t really want to go into detail but did tell me that Sandy promised to try them. I have to admit that for the rest of the day, on occasion, I would visualize Sandy wearing those panties.

On Monday, right at 4pm, all those who were participating in the Secret Santa program at work showed up in the lobby to pick their envelope to find out who they had gotten. I told Trish that I wanted to be the last one. As I watched some of the employees open their envelopes I could see some smiles as well as some frowns. When Trish handed me my envelope I just hoped that it wasn’t another bank officer. It wasn’t. Initially, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Laura, Trish’s cousin. I was happy because I liked her and, even though there was supposed to be a dollar limit on the gift, I knew I could get her something she needed. There were announcements about the time for the ”get together“ and how it would work. The final one was that for it to be truly ”Secret“ the employees should keep their person’s name to themselves. I remember hearing some mumbling from the group as I was headed back to my desk.

Trish had told me that she had to "blackmail" Bret to be the Santa. During the day I’d noticed that the two of them didn’t do much interacting. With Trish as the receptionist and Bret the primary customer representative it was somewhat funny. I didn’t dare say anything to Bret. I was really curious as to just what she had on Bret. I was the one who had to borrow the Santa suit from the Chamber of Commerce and had to get it to him prior to the affair. I knew he wasn't going to be pleased with that.

I was anxious to get home to find out Sandy’s reaction to the ”dribble panties“. Walking in the door, I still had my coat on when I asked Elle about it and it wasn’t the response I’d expected. In short... Sandy liked the idea and they had worked. BUT, the panties we’d made up for her were too big. A word of explanation... We’d already found out the Evette panties were cut a size larger than most panties... ie; a size 4 was the equivalent to say a Van Raalte size 5... AND, they had a higher waist. Sandy was quite a bit shorter than Elle and the Evette panties were too high to fit comfortably. I was somewhat surprised but no where near as much as I was when Elle told me that Sandy had brought over some of her own panties and asked Elle if she could fix some of them the same way. OH MY HEART! I’m sure a small bulge started as soon as I heard those words. I definitely remember taking a deep breath.

To be continued...     
    

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124g)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124g)

The discussion ended when Elle appeared with Kaye in her arms. Elle asked me if I’d drive Sandy home as she was trying to “keep the peace”. There wasn’t any more to say and I felt as if I’d finally made my point to a female, not that I’d tried to do it with others. I hated to drive over snow when on the driveway because it would pack down and become slippery, especially when trying to drive up or down the hill. However, Sandy was anxious to go so I just wiped the snow off the windshield and headed down the driveway. Because the house was at least fifteen feet above the road there was a “cut” into the hill for the driveway. Because you couldn’t see cars on the road without stopping at the bottom of the hill I had to hit the brakes. When I did I felt the car start to slide... and slide it did... about 1/4 of the way out and into the road. I saw an Eastbound car coming and could only stare at it. Sandy had also seen it and I remember her screaming, even though it was me who was the one who the other car was heading for. At the last second I saw it turn slightly to avoid me. The car glanced off mine and went spinning off the other side of the road and down the slight embankment into the cow pasture. I watched until it stopped and then I pulled off the road to go check on the driver. Before I did I asked Sandy if she was OK and all she could do was shake her head affirmatively, but without speaking.

There was little damage to either car, both being driveable. It was back in the days when there were real bumpers on cars and they took the brunt of the blow. When I talked with the other guy we both agreed not to report the collision. Both cars were over ten years old and neither of us wanted to go through the hassle of paperwork that would be necessary. However, he needed a to to get his car back up on the road so I offered to give him a ride to the one service station in town with a tow truck. In the meantime, Sandy just sat there, quietly.

When we finally arrived at Sandy’s house she got out without saying a word. I watched as she sort of walked backwards towards her front porch and finally disappearing inside. I thought it a little strange and as I started to back out noticed she’d left her gloves on the seat. I reached across the seat to grab them and as my hand slid across it I could feel wetness. I immediately ran my hand over the area where Sandy had been sitting and not only was it wet but it was still warm from her body heat. It took a few seconds to put the scene together but I surmised that she’d wet herself when she screamed seeing the car headed for us. I had the gloves in my hand but decided against taking them up to the house knowing that she’d really be embarrassed if I did.

When I walked into the kitchen Elle wanted to know what had taken me so long. I figured, for sure, that she’d seen the activity on the road in front of our house but she was shocked when I told her what had happened. I assured her that both Sandy and I were perfectly OK. After that it was my turn... I wanted to know just what Sandy had been doing without her pants on when I walked in on her.

Elle hemmed and hawed a bit but realized I wasn’t going to give up until I got the reason. There was a big build up before she got to the meat of the story and Elle could see I was getting a bit upset. The long story short was that Elle had called Sandy to tell her she’d come up with some ideas for a “dribble panty”. With a promise from Elle that she’d drive her home Sandy, had her husband drop her off at our house. Elle had washed out the panties she’d inserted the sanitary panty in and worn (and used) the previous day and had them ready for her when she arrived. After hearing the story about the cotton crotch insert getting bunched up Elle told and showed Sandy her idea of inserting the pad between the two layers of the crotch. Sandy said she liked the idea of the cotton insert between the nylon layers of the crotch but she didn’t like the pad idea. She told Elle she didn’t like having a “wad of stuff” between her legs. Elle went on that she told Sandy that she’d really appreciate it she would at least try them. Elle said she really had to plead but finally Sandy agreed. With our kids occupied, she dropped her pants there in the dining room and was just going to pull the “dribble panties” on over her regular ones. Elle said she pleaded with her again to “do it right” and that’s when Sandy took them into the bathroom to change. It was when she was coming out of the bathroom that she had “collided” with me.

I was trying to follow the story line and then it came to me that Sandy was wearing the “dribble panties” when she wet herself in my car. I wanted to tell Elle but had already decided not to mention her “accident” to her but it excited me that it had happened that way. Actually, with my question about Sandy and panties I’d got Elle “started” on the subject of the “dribble panties” and she wasn’t about to stop. She took me into the dining room and showed me an idea that the two of them had come up with. Sandy had suggested making the entry into the crotch of the nylon panties much smaller and then rolling the cotton insert up, inserting it that way and then kneading it out to fit the space. It seemed like a good idea that would solve one of the problems but not the problem of the insert moving. I stood there looking at the cotton crotch that I’d cut from the Carter’s Spanky Pants and laid it out on top of another pair of the Evette panties that were still on the table. I stared at it for a minute or so and told Elle I had the solution.

I cut a much smaller hole in the front end and on the inside of the crotch of the panties. It took a little effort to get the cotton insert in place and then I handed the panties to Elle. She looked at me with a quizzical look. To me the solution was so simple that I was smiling. I told her that all she had to do was take a needle and thread and sew through the nylon and cotton on each of the four corners of the insert to pin it in place. It took her less than ten minutes to do it.

These are the actual panties just described

Elle was actually anxious to put them on. Now, Elle actually had two separate dribble problems. One was like Sandy’s, dribbling after using the toilet, but that was only sporadic. The other would happen when Elle would exceed her bladder capacity, usually after 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Elle had become fairly good at managing her time so that hadn’t been a problem. However, Elle wanted to test the panties “legitimately”, meaning that she didn’t want to just wet them on purpose. This time we decided the best way was for her not to use the toilet until after she dribbled.

To be continued... 
    
    

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124f)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124f)

Elle and I were both in bed when the phone rang. When that happens it usually isn’t good news. The phone was on Elle’s side of the bed and I heard her mumble that the call was for me. It was “Big B”. He apologized for the lateness of the call but didn’t dwell on it. “B” was always making “deals”, especially with his customers. The latest was that one of them, who owned a small Christmas tree farm, had told “B” that he’d give him a few trees... free. The only thing was that “B” had to cut them himself. As I’ve mentioned he was a big guy, over 300 pounds, and he just couldn’t see himself lying on the ground cutting down Christmas trees. He asked if I could go with him to cut the trees and he’d give me one of them. In my mind free means it costs me no money but usually something else. Elle and I hadn’t picked out our tree and were planning on doing it on Sunday after church. I don’t know why I said I would but I did. The last thing my half asleep mind heard was that he’d pick me up at 7am in front of my house.

There was a coating of snow on the ground when I walked down the driveway to meet “B” and it was snowing quite hard. Usually, my father, the ameture weather man, would call when a storm of any kind was pending and he hadn’t called. I hoped that was an omen that the snow wasn’t going to last. The farm was about a half hour away. “B” had borrowed a trailer to haul the cut trees back and, empty, it was bouncing around behind us. “B’s” plan was to cut four trees with one being mine. Another was for the owner of the company he worked for along with his parents and his best customer. By the time we arrived the trees were covered with snow. It was certainly pretty but it didn’t make my job any easier. I had to cut the trees by hand while lying on my side. When I’d move I’d get another coating of snow. By the time I’d finished with three of them I was soaking wet and I thought my arm would fall off. It took longer to cut the last tree down than it did for the first two combined. I had to keep reminding myself that I’d have a tree and wouldn’t be out any money.

Because of the way my driveway was laid out “B” couldn’t take the car and trailer up to let me off by the house. The snow had stopped and there was about two inches of it on the ground. From the road where “B” left me off I took a short cut climbing the hill in front of the house. That route took me next to Celia’s house and I could see lights on inside. I hoped, for her sake, that it was because someone was interested in buying it. I thought that would make a nice Christmas present for her.

As I said, I was wet and, not wanting to bring my dirty wet clothes into the house, decided to strip on the patio just outside the kitchen door. Even with the heat on in “B’s” car I was just chilled to the bone and all I wanted was a nice warm shower. From the kitchen door it was only about six or seven steps to the downstairs bathroom that had the shower in it. I didn’t call out to Elle when I walked in but just headed straight for the bathroom. I made the turn to head in when out popped Sandy... in a dark blue sweatshirt and panties. She screamed. I don’t remember what I immediately did (or said) because she really spooked me. The next thing I remember was hearing Elle yelling, asking what was wrong. By the time she made it down the hallway Sandy had put her hands in front of her groin and had backed her way into the living room. I remember Elle yelling at me asking what I was doing home and half naked. I was standing just outside the bathroom door. Again, I don’t remember what I said but did step into the bathroom.

It took a minute for me to collect myself and I do remember talking to Elle through the door explaining why I was undressed. While I was telling her my side of the story I started wondering just why Sandy didn’t have on regular clothes. I got Elle to go upstairs and get me some clean, dry clothes while I showered. I was hoping that by the time I was finished Sandy would still be there. I was really, really curious to find out what had caused her to be half undressed.

Naturally, by the time I reappeared Sandy was fully dressed and standing by the kitchen counter with her coat on. I didn’t see Elle and asked where she was. Sandy didn’t answer but pointed to the door to the cellar. It was open a crack and when I opened it I knew immediately why she was down there. Kaye, our youngest, was crying and Elle was chastising the older two. I turned back to Sandy and I heard her say she was embarrassed for what had happened. My first reaction was “for what?” We’d scared each other and that was about it. But she wouldn’t stop saying she was embarrassed for exposing herself like she had to me. I sloughed it off but she continued. After hearing the same thing the third time I’d had it.

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A bit of background here... For the longest time I couldn’t understand why females got so uptight when a male happened to get a peek of their underwear. With the advent of the bikini bathing suit I was even more confused. Women were now showing more skin than ever before and other than the fact that someone had decreed what they were wearing was a “bathing suit” they were actually wearing nothing more than a colored bra and panty. I’d discussed this with Elle any number of times and she wouldn’t give my argument the time of day saying “that it's just different”, meaning the bra and panty. When I asked her how she could declare the bikini “different” she didn’t have an answer and would close with “it is!” I even used the example of one of the women we’d both seen at the sailing club who had worn a light pink bikini. I remembered seeing her the first time and actually thought it was underwear. She agreed but wouldn’t change her position.
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I pretty much unloaded on Sandy using the same argument I’d tried on Elle. I’d seen her in a bikini suit (and she was very cute in it) and told her to give me an explanation of why she felt it was an embarrassment to be seen in her underwear and not in the bikini. I was actually surprised when she tried to come up with a response. After a couple of tries she shrugged her shoulders. I was about to say something when she mumbled that her mother had told her, when she was growing up, that it wasn’t “ladylike” to have her underwear be seen. I know I must’ve made a “face” upon hearing that. I immediately asked her what harm had occurred when I saw her in her panties and she’d seen my boxer shorts. I remember her standing there, leaning against the counter, and cocking her head. After a few seconds I saw a smile start at the corners of her mouth.

To be continued...  
   

FINSIHING UP... the year (Part 124e)

FINISHING UP... the year (Part 124e)

Seeing the Christmas decorations going up started a “buzz” among those who could see them. By the time Ole and his kids packed up I saw a number of the tellers gathered around Trish. It had been a while since the old “Polish Mafia” had been active but at first blush it looked like they were at it again. It didn’t take long to find out what the gathering had been about as Trish followed me right to my desk. The big question was “When and where was the Christmas party going to be held?"

The party at the end of the previous year had been misinterpreted as a Christmas party. It wasn’t... or at least it wasn’t intended to be. It was a retirement party for the outgoing president. He’d been at the bank for over 25 years and the Trustees wanted to make sure he got the recognition so wanted all the employees to be there to celebrate with him. It just happened to be during the Christmas season and that’s where the confusion came in. There never had been a Christmas party for the employees. I remember when I found out about the lack of a party and thought it strange. When I asked why I was told ”Because we just don’t.“ However, I wasn’t in a position to question the subject any further.

When I told Trish there wasn’t one planned she didn’t hesitate to ask if the employees could have a little gathering in the lobby before Christmas so all the employees could wish each other a ”Merry Christmas“. Before I could open my mouth she said that some had even volunteered to bring cookies. Then, with a slight smile on her face, she said it would really be great if they could have a Secret Santa where everybody would get a little gift. Her words came out like bullets but she didn’t have to sell me. I, personally, was all for it as I believed strongly in the good will of the Christmas season. Now it had been thrust upon me to ”sell“ the idea to senior management.

Come to find out it was the old president who was the ”Scrooge“. I took the idea to Hobie who immediately took the idea to Bert, the current president. Within a half hour approval was given but with a definite surprise added. The president volunteered to personally fund the ”treats“, as he called them. And, he also suggested that someone be found to play Santa to give out the gifts.  When I told Trish the news I think I saw the most positive reaction from her that I’d seen in the almost two years I’d been at the bank and she promised that she’d find a Santa.

Hobie had suggested that we put a cap on the amount spent on the gifts keeping in mind that everybody was ‘stretched a little thin” due to the season. He threw out a number between 3 and 4 dollars which seemed fair. He also suggested that the Secret Santa be a voluntary thing. Then, looking directly at Bret’s back, stated that with his round shape, he be tapped to be the Santa. I’d had the thought but wasn’t willing to express it. I knew Trish would take care of it and leave me out of it. Because time was short before Christmas it was decided that the “get together” (not a Christmas party) would be held at 4pm in exactly a week.

I’d wanted to call Elle during the day to see if she’d “dribbled” but didn’t want to make too much of the situation so held off. When at home I tried to be as casual as possible hoping that she’d volunteer some information. When it hadn’t happened by the time she was about to put supper on the table I finally asked. To the point... it hadn’t gone well. She’d found that in walking around and with all the movements she made, the cotton insert had worked its way to the back of the crotch and bunched up. Her quote, and I remember it well, “it felt like I had a load in my pants”. She’d taken them off so the concept of having the cotton insert absorb “dribbles” was still untested.

Later, while she was putting the kids to bed I retrieved the panties from the hamper and could see what she was talking about. I could also see that the opening in the crotch that I’d made was now much larger. When she came into the bedroom she acknowledged that when she was trying to get the cotton insert back in place she’d ripped the crotch making it like a flap. I wasn’t too happy about that so decided to put the idea away for a little while.

Later, when Elle was preparing her sleeping “package”, I noticed that she’d picked up the experimental panties in one hand and had a sanitary pad in the other. I didn’t say anything but watched as she proceeded to stuff the pad between the two layers of nylon that made up the crotch. Then she held it up to show me. The look on her face was one of satisfaction, as if to say look what I just created. Before I could say anything she slipped the panties on and announced that it should take care of the “dribble“ problem. Even though my first reaction was negative I didn’t say anything because I was actually proud of her for coming up with the idea on her own. The next morning I asked if she was going to wear her creation all day. She had a smile on her face and shot back a quick and sassy ”Of course!“.



The mood at work was extremely cheerful the next day. The sign up list for being a part of the Secret Santa program was over 90 percent. Trish was in charge of getting the names of the participants into envelopes so that the employees could find out who they were going to get. Because there were some people who were on vacation it was decided to wait until Monday to see if they wanted to join in. That news didn’t make some people all that happy because they were anxious to know the name of their person. It was exciting to see how much interest had been generated by just this simple act of having a ”get together”.

Back at home Elle had some news for me. She’d finally “dribbled”, legitimately, and the pad had done the job. She was so excited that she called Sandy to tell her but she couldn’t come over because Johnnie’s JV team had an away game and they were leaving right after school let out. Elle was disappointed but Sandy had promised that she’d call when she was free and they’d get together. Elle was actually a bit giddy over the success of her idea. Actually, I was too.

To be continued...