MORE SUMMER... and my new life (Part 34e)

And that was it! I have absolutely NO memory of what happened after that. The next thing I knew one of the other men in the tack room where I slept was trying to wake me up. My head hurt like hell. It was something I’d never experienced before. Worse yet was the fact that I knew I was going to puke very shortly. I managed to make it out of the room before tossing my cookies. I ended up on my knees in the grass at the west end of the barn. When I stopped retching I looked down at what had just come up and, at first, thought it was blood. It took a minute for my head to clear enough to remember that what I’d been drinking (Cherry Heering) was a deep red color. At least that was something positive. I made it back to my bed and told the others that it must have been something I ate after the races as I fell back to sleep. AJ woke me when he arrived and I told him the same story. He said he’d arrange for my horses to be cared for and left. As I lay there I began to wonder how I’d gotten back to the room as Alida’s tack room was at the other end of the barn and on the other side. I really couldn’t remember anything after falling on top of Alida.

By the time the grooms were getting the horses that were racing that night ready I felt at least partially human. I went to the paddock and warmed up a few horses for AJ but begged off staying until they raced. I’d begun to wonder how Alida was but was too embarrassed at my behavior to try and find her. I headed back to my bed and crashed, again. A few days passed before I had more than a passing glance at her. We ended up, side by side, while jogging horses on the track. She had a sort of a smirky smile on her face which only served to make me blush and her to smile back. It made me wonder just what happened after I’d fallen on her.

In one way I didn’t want to know. I'd been so “out of it” that next morning that I never paid any attention to the condition of my clothes but as soon as I got back to the barn I dug them out of my dirty wash duffel. They were dirty on the knees, indicating that I’d probably been crawling but there was nothing to indicate any “action” around the fly. That was a relief!

It was another few days before I got the nerve to go visit Alida in her room after the races. I’m sure I was expecting to see her in her underwear but, because of my uncertainess about what had actually transpired the last time I’d been there I was hoping that she was dressed. I remember hesitating outside the door before calling to her. I got the same response as most of the other times as she asked if it was “Sonny boy”, her name for me. Instead of lying on her bed she was in her canvas folding chair, reading something by the little lamp she had by her cot. As she looked up at me I wanted to leave and actually started to turn. She got up and caught me by the door. Again, it was one of those situations that left me looking right down at her cleavage. She pleaded for me to stay. I hemmed and hawed and finally she pulled me back into the room. When I did she went over by the chair and gave me a nice view of her panties. They were, again, very sheer and VERY pleasant to look at. She sat on the bed and I took the chair.

We “danced” around the subject of that drunken night for a while and, as best she could remember, a security guard was the one who, somehow, got me back to my room. She said she, too, was badly hung over and she didn’t do anything with her horses except to feed them that next day. We both swore that we wouldn’t try that again. As I left it seemed as if we were back to where we’d been before. She was upbeat and continued to thank me for connecting her to “Wingo”. One of her horses was racing the next night but she thought he was in “way over his head”, a racetrack term meaning that the competition was too good for her horse to be competitive. I think I told her that anything could happen and she was smiling as I turned to walk back to my room. I remember her standing in the doorway, the light from her room silhouetting her.

It was about this time that my memory gets a little fuzzy as there was some turmoil around our barn. One of the grooms had gotten arrested and thrown in jail and one of the owners had shipped in two more horses. Being shorthanded, I really had my hands full and couldn’t/didn’t find time for Alida. I remember that the horse she was concerned about finished a respectable third and the other horse, the better one, won for the third time in a row. I knew she had to be happy but I just never got to share in it with her.

Sometime that week I was on my way back from the track with one of my horses when I saw a man I didn’t recognize walking away from the barn with Alida’s good horse. He was easy to recognize as he was a beautiful chestnut with a white “sock” on his left front leg. When I got the chance I took a peek and sure enough, his stall was empty. I made a mental note to follow up on it that night.

There were always “wanna-be” owners around the stables. AJ had been “chosen” by this weird little man, Walter, to be his trainer when he bought a horse. Walter was around our barn a lot. To me he was a PITA (pain in the ass) and just got in the way. On the same day that I saw Alida’s good horse being led down the road, Walter told AJ that he’d actually bought a horse. You can imaging my shock when I found out it was Alida’s other horse, the one that had just finished third. I couldn’t imagine what was going on. Alida’s horses were doing better than they ever had with “Wingo” doing the driving. I’d heard her say that, after both horses had won their second race in a row, that she now had enough money to pay everybody that she owed. I was mad at myself for not forcing myself to find the time to visit her. At least I would’ve known what was going on. As soon as I heard Walter had bought Alida’s horse I went looking for her even though I was way behind in my work. Her cot and foot locker were still in the tack room, which was a good sign, but her pick up truck was gone which meant I’d have to wait until later.

To be continued...

MORE SUMMER... and my new life (Part 34d)

I spoke to “Wingo” who said he would be glad to help her out. I gave him some background and put emphasis on the fact that she was basically broke and was facing having to sell one of her two horses. When I passed his "OK" on to Alida I got another kiss and another smile. One of her horses was scheduled to race the early part of the week and AJ had a horse in the same race. That was perfect because I’d be there and able to see how Alida’s horse made out. I did very little betting on the races. Trying to save as much money as I could for school and having to pay for food and gas didn’t leave a lot of discretionary money. But, more because I’d gone “out on a limb” by suggesting “Wingo“, I sent up $2 to bet on Alida’s horse to win. Because her horse had such a poor record there wasn’t much interest by the betting public and he went off at 18 to 1 odds. As they went past the paddock and the 1/4 mile pole, the horse was in the middle of the pack (of eight). Alida was screaming that the horse liked to be out front as they raced down the backstretch. We couldn’t see that much until the horses were almost to the finish line. I saw ”Wingo’s“ racing colors (red, while and blue) on the outside and I was pretty sure that he was the first to cross through the finish wire lights. By the time her horse was posted as the winner Alida was a mess! Being short, she hadn’t really seen the finish. She was hoarse from screaming and beside herself from worry. She needn’t have been. ”Wingo” told me, as we walked back into the paddock, that the horse had a lot more “go power” and was smiling as he told me. I remember looking back to see how much the horse paid to win and it was over $38. It was big for me but knowing Alida was happy for having her horse win the race, that was the added bonus.

It got better. Her other horse raced later on that week and also won. This horse was a better horse and was racing for more money. For the week Alida’s horses had won $700. They hadn’t won that much in the last 5 weeks that they’d raced. The smile on her face came a lot easier.

AJ’s best horse always raced on Saturday night which meant that I had to be there as well. The owner of the horse would usually show up and I’d end up having to squire him around after the races were over. It’s funny, but I didn’t mind busting my tail working on the horses but this duty was a royal pain in the ass for me. After staying with him for an hour I excused myself by saying I had to go check on the other horses. I saw the light on in Alida’s room so stuck my head inside. I was expecting to see her in her underwear but I sure was surprised at what I saw. She had her hair down and was wearing a blouse that actually showed she had a feminine body. When I walked in she stood up and, almost girlishly, asked if I approved. She had a on a pair of crisp khaki pants and a pair of loafers. Not beautiful, but a major improvement! Of course I told her she looked really nice. It was obvious that she’d been waiting for me and I felt bad that I had to get back to the owner. By the time he had left and I got back to her room she was asleep. As I lay in bed I remember thinking that she had actually listened to what I’d suggested and I felt good about it.

I honestly don’t remember if I did her wash on that Sunday or not but I don't think so. The first time I saw Alida on Monday we were both on the racetrack. I didn’t recognize her at first as her hair was still down and she wasn’t wearing her baseball cap. Actually, she was pretty much dressed the same way as she was on Saturday night. It took a little getting used to. When I caught up to her I was tempted to ask her about it but didn’t. She was actually smiling as we jogged our hoses side by side. It was nice to see it. Now that things were going better for her. The only “downer” for her was that both her horses got “bumped up” a class and she was concerned that they wouldn’t be competitive. As it turned out she needn’t have worried. “Wingo” won again with both of them. It was almost surreal. Both set new time records and, of course, more money... $900 to be exact.

The night that her better horse won his second race I was at the barn when she brought him back to cool him out. She was as excited as a kid who found the present he wanted under the Christmas tree. When she saw me she waved me over. I surely didn’t want another kiss and if it hadn’t been for her holding onto the horse she would’ve. She did make me promise to stop by her room before going to bed. When I did I got an eyefull. She was bending over her cot and the view was magnificent, even in the poor light. The first thing I noticed was that the panties weren’t the band leg type. The second was that they were sheer enough for me to see her butt crack just above the crotch. They had to be made of synthetic material. When she heard me knock she turned around and I got a full frontal view. Just as I’d seen through the panties to see her butt crack, I could now see her “bush". It was easy as she had dark hair. I know she noticed the almost instantaneous bulge because she made a comment about the fact that I must’ve liked what I saw. I’m still not sure why it was different that night. I’d sat in there many times and actually watched her get up and walk by in just her bra and panties and it hardly raised a ”stir“. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like a woman now. I’d never considered ”older“ women in a sexual way. I always looked at panties, no matter what the age of the wearer was, but on this night, Alida finally got to me.

Truthfully, I was still not attracted to her at all. But watching her in those sheer panties was a real thrill... and she picked up on it. She had a bottle of Cherry Heering, an after dinner liquor and insisted that I join her in a celebratory toast. It only took a little while for me to realize that she’d been ”nipping" at it for a while before I showed up. It only took a couple of shots for me to feel it. I liked the sweet taste and don’t know how many I had. I watched her attempt to get up to go to relieve herself and fall down, much like someone who had been spun around many times in a row and then let go of. She was in the doorway and I got up to help her. I had no idea how drunk I was until I’d made about three or four steps. When I tried to stop, my feet did but my upper body didn’t. I ended up falling on top of her. That was when she started laughing. I did too.

To be continued...

MORE SUMMER... and my new life (Part 34c)

The next morning was a Sunday and, although I was hoping to get to do her wash again I wasn’t expecting to see her as I walked down the shedrow. She told me that she wanted to talk some more with me but I didn’t want the others to see me associating with her. AJ, my boss had a “thing“ about women working at the track and especially didn’t like the idea of them driving in races. So, I told her I’d stop in to see her that night. I did do her wash and it was pretty much the same mix of clothes. The one thing I did do was to inspect her bras and found they were a 32B, which surprised me.

Ed and I went to the movies that night after we’d eaten and we got back to the track around 10pm. I did my usual routine of checking the horses and ended up at Alida’s tack room. I knocked and walked right in. I should’ve been used to it by then but there she was in just her bra and panties. She had a small lamp perched on a wooden soda crate and was lying on her cot, reading. She sat up but made no effort to cover herself. It was almost as if she was one of the ”guys” in a locker room. I wasn’t complaining even though she was old enough to be my mother. She sat up and pointed for me to sit in her chair.

This time, because of the lamp, I could see her face fairly clearly as well as her breasts. The poor lighting made her look older than normal. The gist of what she wanted to talk about was about how she was perceived by the other horsemen. She said that no one really wanted to talk or associate with her. I remember thinking to myself “No wonder, the way you carry yourself and the way you dress.” but I didn’t say it, at least right at that time. After listening to her ramble on for a while I remember putting my hand up and telling her to stop talking. I think that surprised her. Long story short... I ended up telling her that the first thing she needed to do was to get someone else to drive her horses in the races and the second was to stop trying to be someone she wasn’t... a man. Even though she’d somewhat asked for my advice the night before, I don't think she was ready for what I’d just said. I’d grown tired of listening to her complain and decided to get her attention. I actually didn’t believe I’d said it. I remember her slumping back onto her cot like a wounded animal. I was tired and wanted to leave but when I got up she jumped up and grabbed me by my hands. Then she asked if I’d help her.

What was I supposed to say then? Here I’d just rather brusquely to told her to change two major things in her life and was about to walk out the door. As you’ve already read, somehow I seemed to manage to get involved with females with problems. This, however, was really different. I sat back down and told her who I thought would do a good job driving her horses. That was the easy part. One of the drivers who’d taken an interest in me was a guy who his friends called “Wingo“. I’d learned that he had, at one time, been a leading trainer/driver but had gotten lazy when it came to the training aspect of the business. Because of that he only had a few horses to train and ended up driving a few other trainers horses when they were off at other tracks. I told Alida I’d put him in touch with her the next day. I could see in her eyes that she still hadn’t bought into the idea of someone else racing her horses.

Discussing the second part (changing her image) was far more difficult because it wasn’t as clear cut. I know I didn’t help the situation by trying to be a little less harsh than when I first blurted it out. It was more like a game of 20 Questions (a popular game show at that time) as I tried to get a picture in my mind of just why she had chosen to try and emulate a man. It was, for sure, an interesting process. When she and her husband started running the stable she’d seen the lack of respect that women were given around the track. She endured it and when her husband died and she started trying to be a driver it got really intense. She decided that she had to act like the criticism didn’t bother her and she became ”hardened“. She felt that by looking more masculine would take some of the pressure off her actually being female. Her hair in a bun and under a baseball cap; oversized western shirts to hide her breasts and dirty driving pants had all been part of her ”disguse”. But, when things started to go really bad, she didn’t have any choice. She said she’d pretty much forgotten what it was like to be herself. By the time we’d gotten to this point it was almost 3am. I knew I had to get some sleep and when I got up to go, this time she got up and actually up on her toes to give me a kiss (on the cheek). I tried to back away but it would've made me fall back in the chair. As I walked out of the room she said she’d think about the last part (becoming “herself” again), and had a smile on her face for the first time that I could remember. It wasn’t until I was walking back to my room that I remembered that Alida had gotten up to pee a couple of times. Unless she had some tissue hidden in the stall it meant that she’d been sitting there in somewhat wet panties. That thought, and not the fact that I’d just spent 5 hours or so with a woman in just her underwear, started a slight bulge in my pants.

To be continued...

MORE SUMMER... and my new life (Part34b)

When we got back to the barn she handed me a pillow case with her clothes. I had to wait until the afternoon when no one was around to do them for fear of being caught. I guess it was because I hadn’t seen much, if any, femininity from her, but I didn’t even think of what might be in the case. There really wasn't all that much. Like I’d noticed, she seemed to wear the same clothes for multiple days. It was when I grabbed the first bra to run through the wringer that I was suddenly reminded that she was a female. When I got to her panties I did a closer look. They were cotton band leg panties like Elle wore but they were much softer. I looked at the tag and was somewhat surprised that the tag read “Carter’s”. They weren’t the heavy type like Elle wore and the size read “Small”. All of Elle’s read either 14 or 16. I was learning something new. Even though they were white they had a dull, grayish look to them. There were only 5 pair and I wondered how many days she wore each pair. I checked out the crotch and there was definitely a yellowish tinge to the middle of each one. I decided that maybe I should take more of an interest in her, at least as far as panties were concerned. Later, even though I’d handled all 5 pair of her panties, I still got a kick out of seeing them blowing in the wind as they dried on the wash line.

I ended up going to the races as a helper with one of our horses that was stabled on Alida’s side of the barn early on that next week. As I finished up I looked down towards Alida’s horses and, again saw a stall door open. This time I was expecting to see her coming out from inside the stall and I was right. But this time she didn’t have on a shirt. It was just a bra and panties. I know she didn’t see me which made me glad. (OK... I need to explain something here. At this particular time, the 50’s, there were very few women working with the horses in any capacity. The rest rooms [we called them wash rooms] that the track provided were small and made no provisions for females. They were spread {sparsely} all along the barn area and had 3 toilets with no doors, 3 sinks and 2 shower stalls. Because they were not convenient for three out of four barns, the men would use a stall to pee in [and sometimes, poop] for the convenience of it. Alida chose to do the same because she knew she’d have no privacy anyway) I was probably 30 feet away and actually wished that I’d been able to see her breasts. At that point I made up my mind to stay a little longer on that side of the barn in the future when I was doing my late night check of the horses.

By the end of that week Alida’s horses had each raced twice and they’d not done well. When I did my late night check that Saturday night I found a note for me taped on the stall door of the last horse in our stable. It was from Alida asking me to see her as soon as possible. I figured she was going to ask to borrow more grain. I walked down to the tack room where she was living and, like all of us, she had the door open and a fan on. I knocked and almost immediately I saw her pop up off her cot. It was obvious that she was awake. What I didn’t expect was to see her just panties and bra. There was only ambient light so all I saw was shadows and the difference in color that her underwear against her skin gave off. She wasn’t embarrassed at all and made no effort to cover herself. As my eyes became more accustomed to the darkness I focused more on her breasts than her panties. She actually had something there. She started to say someting a few times but stopped before she’d gotten too far. I could tell she’d been drinking but she didn’t seem drunk. Finally she blurted it out... “I can’t drive worth a damn!” (or something close to that) Then she pressured me to agree with her. I was struggling at this point. Here I was, still a teenager with less than two months of real horse experience and being asked to critique her ability. I didn’t know what to say... so didn’t say anything. She was now sitting on her cot leaning against the wall and I was in her canvas chair facing her. I wasn’t ready for her to lean forward and to grab both my knees but when she did I felt a bit of panic. Then she, in a pleading voice, asked “What should I do?” Talk about pressure! I don’t remember what I said but we sat and talked for a while. I started to get up to go and she stood up as well. With me at 6’1“ and her around 5’2” I was looking down at her and, from that angle I could see she really did have some “form”. She took my hands and, squeezing them, asked one more time what she thought I should do. I don’t know where the idea came from but I asked if she’d thought about having someone else drive her horses. It took a bit of time but she finally said she had but really couldn’t afford it. That puzzled me because I knew that the driver only got 10% of the winnings or a minimum of $20 (at this track). I asked her what she meant and I didn't understand her reasoning. I told her she should at least try to think about it and then left.

To be continued...

MORE SUMMER... and my new life (Part 34a)

It was after the 4th of July when, in my early morning rounds checking to see that the men were up and the horses had been fed, that I saw we had a ‘neighbor. As I’d mentioned earlier AJ’s stable had anywhere from 18 to 21 hoses at any given time. There had always been at least three empty stalls at the one end of the barn. But on this morning I saw an old pick up truck with a two horse trailer attached to it as I walked down the shedrow. When I got to the end of our horses I could see horse heads protruding from the last two stalls. I took a look in and saw just a bare covering of straw and a water bucket in each. I took a look into the tack room and saw only the spare things we’d stored in there. I wondered where the person responsible for these horses was.

I went back to the other side of the barn and started getting my horses ready for their morning activities. Just as I was about to hitch one of them up for the morning jog, George, one of the grooms came around the end of the barn to say he couldn’t get by the pick up to get his horse to the track. When I got there I saw the trailer had been moved to the grassy area between the barns and the pick up was backed in under the shedrow. I still didn’t see anyone but as I approached the truck I heard a ‘husky“ voice bark out an order... ”Grab the other end of the trunk!“. I’m not sure why I did it but I grabbed the trunk that was sitting on the tailgate. (The trunks are approximately 4’ by 3’ and contain all the peripheral equipment that race horses need). When I tried to lift it I struggled. But, the person on the other side seemed to have no problem. As we got the trunk off the truck I could see the other person. At first I wasn’t sure weather it was male or female. Once on the ground I heard another order barked out to move it between the occupied stalls. I decided that it was a female but dressed in a very masculine way. She was wearing a baseball cap and had on an oversized western style shirt with the sleeves cut or ripped off. She was wearing what I called ”driving pants” (gabardine with western style pockets) that were very dirty. Before I could say anything she got into the pick up and drove off. I was stunned. No “Thank you”... no “I’m so and so and who are you?” Nothing! I decided I pretty much didn’t really want to know this person.

I actually tried to avoid her the rest of the week. I did learn that her name was Alida and she was the owner, trainer and driver of the two horses. It was about a week after she arrived that I saw she had one of her horses in to race. Curiosity made me go up to the club house to watch. One of the things that I’d been doing was watching races trying to see what successful drivers did. In her case, even though I was hardly in a position to criticize, I felt she drove a horrible race and she ended up last. When I made my last check of the barn before going to bed that night I saw the glow of a cigarette out in the area in front of the southeast end of the barn. Because of the dry hay and straw stored throughout the whole barn area, smoking wasn’t allowed. I knew a few of the men working for AJ smoked but I’d never seen them do it in the barn area. I was concerned and walked towards the glow. I was about 10 feet away when I recognized that it was Alida. She was sitting in a folding chair and when she saw me she called me over. I didn’t want to go but curiosity made me walk towards her. When I did I saw that she also had a pint bottle of whiskey in her lap and, when she spoke, it told me she’d been sipping at it for a while. We ended up introducing ourselves and I got most of her life story before she fell asleep. She was a 40 something widow who had taken over her husband’s stable about 3 years earlier. They had around 8 horses but she was now down to just the two. She’d had to sell the others off to pay the bills. When I realized that she'd fallen asleep I got her up and into her cot in the tack room. I just left her there, still in her clothes. I noted that, basically, they were the same as when I’d helped her with her trunk a week earlier.

A few nights later I saw one of her stall doors open when I was making my final check for the night. The only lights on were the ones that were never turned off and were hung in the rafters for security purposes. I knew that an open door wasn’t good so I headed towards it. About halfway there I saw this body backing out of the stall. To me, it looked like all it had on was a shirt. As the person backed out of the stall they never turned towards me. As I watched the person disappear into the tack room I could see something light colored under the shirt. It had to have been Alida.

There was nothing feminine about Alida when you saw her working around the barn. The oversized shirt hid any semblance of her breasts and with her baseball cap constantly on her head, one would never have known. I think it was the second Sunday she was there that I found her waiting for me to make my “rounds”. She asked if I could do her a favor. She claimed that she was still owed some of her winnings from the last track she been at but was now broke and had no money for feed for her horses. She asked if I could “loan” her some for her two horses. By then I’d accepted her and her curt, bossy ways. At that moment I felt sorry for her, so said “yes”. I knew if AJ found out about it he’d have my hide but did it anyway. I took it one step further and asked if she wanted to go to breakfast with me.

One of the benefits of being with a larger stable is that they have some extra amenities. In our case it was in having a wringer washing machine. It’s purpose was to wash the bandages that we had to wrap the horses legs with. But, the grooms (and me) also used it to wash our own clothes. There were T pole washlines in all the areas between the barns for us to hand our things out to dry. At breakfast, Alida asked if there was any way to sneak some of her clothes in. I remember feeling that she was really “pushing” things at that point but, reluctantly, I said yes.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33j)

I used the branch to pole us back to shore but we didn’t end up where we’d started. We were still about 4 or 5 feet from shore and I could see that Pat was upset, even though she wasn’t saying anything. We both had our shoes off so I got out and found myself in mud up to my ankles and water up to mid calf. I pulled the boat in as far as I could drag it and then helped Pat out. She was very drunk. As soon as she got her feet on solid ground she said she had to pee and it looked like she was going to do it right there. I pointed up the hill and to all the people who were up there. I suggested that it might be better to go over to the trees where she could be somewhat hidden. She agreed and I helped her navigate the 30 or so feet necessary. Once there she told me to “go away” and, until I started moving, she kept saying it. I went about a dozen steps up the hill so that the trees partially blocked her from my view. Then I heard her call out, “no peeking!”. When she called that out I did turn to look her way and I could see her trying to steady herself with one hand on one of the trees and it looked like she was trying to pull her panties down with the other. Again, I heard her yell out, “no peeking!” Then I heard her swearing... like a sailor. I looked to see what was wrong and saw that she’d fallen and was lying half on her side with one arm holding her from being flat on her back. I headed down to help her and when I got there she was still swearing. I asked if she was hurt and she, without looking at me spit out the word “NO!”. I put out my hand to help her up and she took a swing at it with the hand she’d been using to prop herself up with. When she did she fell backwards and I could see up her thigh almost to her panties. When I reached down to, again, help her up, she cursed at me and basically told me to go away. I didn’t like that but I also knew I couldn’t leave her there in her condition. I was almost as drunk but I knew what I had to do.

I stood there for a few minutes and she finally calmed down. When she did look up at me she said she was sorry. Again, I reached down for her hands and this time she reached back. I got her up and when I did I found out why she’d been cursing. She’d wet herself. (I figured out later on that she’d lost her grip on the tree and fallen and when she hit the ground she started peeing.) With me basically holding her upright she inspected the back of her dress. It was not only wet but the dirt that she’d fallen into was now plastered to it as well. There was no way she was going back up the hill looking like that so we walked/staggered across the field to the road. It was really nothing more than a dirt path used for the farm so there wasn’t much chance of being seen. My car was parked in the field across from the picnic and we made our way (slowly) to it and then headed for Pat’s room. She said very little right from the time we left the trees until we got to the car. The only thing I remember her saying was that she hoped that none of her neighbors (in the house) would see her. We were in luck as no one was in the yard. I had a bit of trouble getting her up the stairs and we almost fell a couple of times. I was glad to get her into her room because I was really wasted.

Almost as soon as we walked in she grabbed the towel off the back of the door and a pile of clothes that was on top of her bureau. She then staggered down the hall. It was hot up in her room even though there was no direct sunlight coming through the windows. I was tired and seeing her bed made me just want to lie down and take a nap. I got over to her bed and half sat on it, waiting for Pat to return. I closed my eyes and leaned back resting on my arms. I truly was thinking about Elle and the fact that I’d be seeing her during the next week when she returned to school. Pat was halfway between the door and the bed when I saw her. She was headed straight for me. I really didn’t have any time to take in the “view” as she ended up between my legs with her arms wrapped around me. It wasn’t something I was expecting, for sure. She was trying to push me back onto the bed but I resisted. After a few seconds I realized she was in just her bra and panties. I can’t deny that it got my attention but I still wouldn’t give in. She was in no condition to fight on and I was able to get her turned around and sort of onto the bed. At that point she pretty much gave up. I picked her legs up and put them on the bed at which time she rolled over and away from me. I stood there for a few seconds and, in spite of the incredible view of her pantied butt facing me, I walked towards the door. I stopped and took one last look and then left the room. I had to pee "like a racehorse" and as I started down the stairs I saw the bathroom off to the right. I went in and found Pat's dress and wet panties lying over the side of the tub. The rest of the clean clothes that she'd taken in there with her were in the sink. After using the toilet I picked up the panties and held them up to take a look. They were a very pale lavender and from the front they didn't look wet. But, from the back they were wet all the way to the waist elastic. What was strange was that even holding the panties I don't remember having any sort of a bulge. I do know that when I inspected the label that they were made by Kayser ,like Pat's others that I'd seen up close. I'm sure I thought about taking them but I didn't. After that I retreated back to the barn area. In spite of all that had taken place within the previous hour I had no trouble falling right to sleep. In the days that followed I won’t deny that I went over that whole afternoon many times in my mind thinking of what "might have been". But the truth be told I was proud of myself for not giving in.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33i)

Pat never said a word on the rest of the way to the track. I can’t say she was ready to cry or anything like that but she was clearly upset. I told her to look me up in the paddock later on and she nodded and she took her cameras out of the car. Long story short... she didn’t, and that upset me. I’d seen her but she never came my way. One of the horses I took care of was racing that night and by the time I had him put away it was way late. I drove up to the grandstand where her office was located and found the door locked. I wasn’t about to go to her rooming house at that hour so made a vow to track her down the next afternoon.

It was after 2pm when I finally got free. On a hunch, I stopped at the garage and found out that she’d decided to put in a used motor. Personally, I thought that was a mistake because there was no guarantee on it. From there I headed for her room. No luck there either. I was puzzled but didn’t know what to do. It was a Friday night and we (AJ’s stable) had multiple horses racing that night. That meant I’d be especially busy and, again, was unable to connect with Pat. Now I was really upset.

Saturday night was to be Pat’s last night as track photographer with her father returning on Monday night (Labor day). I, again, missed Pat in the paddock but, was able to get the OK from my boss, AJ, to make a quick trip over to the grandstands. Before the first race she would always go to the winners circle to make sure all the “props” were in place for her pictures. I was sure I could catch her there and I was right. She was clearly embarrassed and made all the typical excuses for not catching up with me. When I had to get back to the paddock I still didn’t know why she’d chosen to avoid me but did elicit a promise that I could drive her to her room when she finished up that night.

The owners of one of the horse AJ was racing that night were visiting and I had to escort them down to the stables after the races so they could visit with their horse. I was praying that they wouldn’t “dilly dally” and I could be waiting for Pat when she was done. They say that timing is everything in life and as I drove up, she walked across the parking lot.

The one thing I didn’t want was some sort of tearful good bye. Another thing I didn’t want was for her to come on to me again. I’d stayed away from her office after the races all that time for just that reason. But what I did want was to find out what was going on... about the car... when she was leaving and how I could reach her during the Winter.

It went fairly well, at least as far as the first two things were concerned. The car would be done on Tuesday and, although she’d be rushed, would make it back for the opening of classes. That meant she’d be around for a few more days. I don’t know why but I was sort of glad.

There was a local tavern that was owned by a former trainer/driver where most of the people affiliated with the track patronized. He’d started a tradition a few years prior in hosting a “picnic” for the horsemen at his farm on the Sunday before Labor day. There was a “donation” expected that was used to help out horsemen that had gotten hurt while racing. Pat had not expected to be able to attend and I had not felt that I was considered a full fledged “horseman” yet so had no plans to attend. But now that Pat was going to be available she decided to ask me to go with her because it would benefit a good cause. She had to plead and I was unable to resist. She was clearly happy when I finally gave in.

The “picnic” started at noon. We didn’t arrive until early afternoon because of my “chores”. It was clearly obvious that some of the attendees had consumed a fair amount of alcohol. I’d not had but a few beers all Summer and when one was thrust into my hand I didn’t refuse it. It wasn’t long before Pat and I’d consumed at least three... and without any food. I knew I felt it. Pat had noticed a small pond down a hill and suggested that we get something to eat and walk down there. Walk is probably the wrong word. Neither of us fell but our path was anything but straight. There were three sickly looking trees that offered a modicum of shade and we settled there. Of course, we also brought another beer to go with the sandwiches we’d taken with us.

I really have no memory of what we talked about (that’s what 3+ beers do). But I do remember seeing this very small double ended boat at the edge of the pond. The pond itself was maybe 1000 feet by 600 feet in the shape of an egg. I asked Pat if she wanted to go for a ride and, feeling little pain, she said yes. She was wearing the same dress that she’d worn that day we’d gone to the lake earlier in the Summer. Getting her into this thing was worthy of a YouTube video but somehow she made it to the back seat without falling into the water. When I said the boat was small I wasn’t kidding. Even though there were two seats, one on each end, there was hardly enough room for us to put our legs and feet. Because I was over six feet tall I needed to put my legs and feet straight out and between her legs. To do that she had to spread them and ended up with her feet on the bottom of the boat and her knees almost as high up as her breasts. You know what that gave me... I couldn’t have scripted it better. The only negative was that I was fairly drunk and really don’t remember much of it. In any case, the only thing we had to move the boat with was a dead branch from one of the trees. Every time I tried to push off with it the boat rocked and Pat would let out a little squeal... very reminiscent of Joanne and our sailing "adventure". We got about 50 feet from shore and were actually moving right along when we came to a sudden stop. Pat, who was holding on to the sides, “flipped” up and almost out of the boat. Why she didn’t end up in the water I don’t know but her left leg was resting on the side of the boat and the hem of her dress was up in her lap. An even better view! We’d hit a rock that was just beneath the surface. I wanted to go on but Pat wanted land, and fast.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (part 33h)

When I got back from my trip home everything pretty much went back to the way things were before I left. Pat would meet me in the paddock and we’d talk and joke around. The one thing I didn’t do though was to go up to her office after the races. I made excuse after excuse to avoid it. I took some pretty good ribbing from her about it though.

August was coming to a quick end when I heard my name over the loudspeakers in the barn area. I was in the middle of washing one of my horses and had to wait until I was finished to be able to respond to it. Pat had called and left a message that something was wrong with her car and she was stuck in the next town to the West of the racetrack. (I’d told her about my race cars so she immediately thought of me.) I called the number she’d left but she was no longer there. As soon as I could get free I drove to where she’d left the car. I went into the store she’d been at and the owner had the key. I went out and started it up and it sounded like a cement mixer. There was no doubt in my mind that this was not a minor problem. As I sat in the car trying to decide what to do I noticed a pile of clothes in the back seat. I could see the store owner standing in the doorway looking at me so there was no chance to go exploring, at least right then and there.

Right outside the gate at the racetrack was a service garage. I’d had some work done on my car so knew they had a tow truck. I got the phone number for them and gave a call. I didn’t know the phone number for the house where Pat lived so couldn’t call her to see if it was OK to tow it but figured there wasn’t any other choice. I thought it would be a good idea to put her clothes in my car before they picked it up just to be sure she got them... and also give me an opportunity to ”inspect“ them.

And inspect them I did. As soon as her car was picked up I drove to an empty gas station and pulled in. When Pat had folded the clothes it was obvious that she hadn’t sorted them first. There was no rhyme or reason to what I was finding as I made my way through the pile. It was made up mostly of khaki pants and white sleeveless blouses, or, what constituted her ”uniform. The dress that she’d worn that day at the lake was also there. I was somewhat disappointed in that I only found three panties. but they did get a thorough “inspection”.

All three were made by Kayser and were size 6. That made sense since Elle wore a size 5 and had a smaller frame. They all had a fairly large crotch both from front to back but also side to side. They had a tunnel elastic waistband which meant they were well made. One of the three was pale pink and I figured that they were the ones she’d also worn that day at the lake. One pair was really fancy with lace around the leg openings. It surprised me because, other than that one day at the lake, I’d never seen any femininity about Pat. Not that she looked like a boy but she just didn’t go out of her way to look feminine. As I looked at the panties I tried visualizing her wearing them with her hair down. I knew I would have liked to have seen it in real life!.

I collected some other details about her as well. Her bra size was a 36B and the pants were a size 12. I knew that Elle wore size 10 pants and wore a 34B bra. As I started driving back to the track I kept comparing the two girls and their sizes. It made me want to see Elle again and I knew it was less that two weeks until I did.

I had to go past the house where Pat roomed and pulled in hoping that she would be there. Pat had said that the lady who owned the house had three families staying there and, as I stopped I saw a lady with two little children. I asked if she knew Pat and was directed to the second floor and the room in the front of the house. I took the laundry and went upstairs. When I knocked, sure enough, Pat answered. It was a large room with a bed, desk, rocking chair, a chest of drawers and a bureau with a large mirror. I also saw a table that held a toaster oven and a hot plate. The only thing she didn’t have was running water. I brought her up to date on the car and, as could be expected, she was quite upset. She asked what I thought was wrong with it and, trying not to be pessimistic, I told her that it could be any number of things. I noticed that it was almost time for me to be back to the barn for feeding time and I asked her if she wanted a ride. Even though it was a bit early for her she took me up on it. It seemed like she was in a trance. She was wearing shorts and, almost without thinking, she grabbed a pair of kakhi’s from the top of the pile of laundry and proceeded to step out of her shorts and into the trousers. It was like I wasn’t there. I got a decent look but really couldn’t appreciate it. (6).

Since we had to go right by the garage where her car had been towed I stopped so she could find out how bad the damage was. Vet, the owner, (I never did find out what his real name was) came out and, almost cruelly, asked Pat why she ran the car without oil. I’m sure Pat had no idea what he was talking about. When she didn’t answer he told her that the motor was ruined. I heard her let out a little cry when she heard it. Vet didn’t let up on her at all and asked, almost demanded, what she wanted to do. Pat was speechless. I butted in and asked what the options were. Knowing a little bit about motors from my racecar I knew it wouldn’t be cheap. I had no idea what Pat made in the way of money but, based upon the fact that I’d invested about $300 to buy my car (and I knew it was worth more) I was shocked when told it would cost about that same amount. But Vet didn’t stop there. He said he could probably find a motor from a junk yard and install it for between $200 and $250 and it would be ready Tuesday afternoon. I knew Pat was supposed to leave on Sunday because she had to start classes on Wednesday and, without the car she couldn’t. do it. I, immediately, felt sorry for her and wished there was something I could do.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (PART 33g)

I went out of my way to avoid Pat in the paddock the next few nights. It was almost like a game of hide and seek. I made it to Sunday without having to meet up with her and had calmed down quite a bit. I knew I still didn’t want to meet up with her face to face so was a bit upset when I saw her red convertible come to the barn by my tack room. I had no way to escape. I was sitting on one of the canvas chairs we kept around for the owners to sit in when they visited when she pulled up. When she got out I was probably holding my breath. The first thing I noticed was that she was wearing a flowered Summer dress and had her hair down. She, for the first time since I’d first met her, looked feminine... and somewhat attractive. In spite of that I was really apprehensive as she walked up. She had a smile on her face and proceeded to ask if I wanted to do some ”exploring“. I really didn’t want to be alone with her and, at the same time, was ready to do something different. I asked her what she meant and she said she knew there was a fairly large lake nearby and that she was going to go check it out. She said she thought I might like to go along since I’d mentioned to her that I missed seeing ”the water“ this Summer. She wasn’t ”pushy“ and that helped me decide to join her.

By the time we found the public access it had taken a half hour. We found a fairly large beach area along with a series of carts that sold hot dogs, sodas and the like. There were also two ramps for the public to launch their boats. I’d guess that there were maybe 200 to 250 or so people spread over the beach area. As we walked past the hot dog stand Pat ended up buying two and giving me one. When she gave it to me she also apologized for the kiss from a few days prior. I think I just blushed. A little further on I bought popsicles.

We walked to the north end of the beach where there were relatively few people. Pat kicked off her shoes and started walking along the water’s edge. I stayed on shore and walked along with her. When we got to the end she came back out and we walked up the beach to a shaded area and sat down. It had been all small talk up to then. We were sitting somewhat side by side and she ooched around so that she was facing me. At this point I didn’t know what to expect.

She started talking and I just sat there and listened. I basically got her life history and it was pretty difficult. Her mother had died from complications of another pregnancy and she’d been raised by her father. He’d become very angry following her mother’s death and had made her life very difficult. That somewhat explained why I found her father so unfriendly. In any case, even though she was old enough to go out on her own she felt that, in memory of her mother, she just couldn’t go off and leave her father alone.

I’m guessing, but it probably took her almost an hour to go through her whole story. I didn’t know what to say so i said nothing and just let her talk. What was interesting was that, as she talked, she changed position many times, all the while sitting. That gave me a couple a really good upskirt views. They were quick peeks, for sure but I found out they were a pale pink. I was sure she caught me looking a couple of times but she never stopped talking. When she did she said she wanted to go back and walk in the water. She implored me to join her and, reluctantly, I did. I hated having sand in my boots and I knew that I’d never get all the sand off my bare feet.

As you’ve probably gathered, I have a tendency to get ”involved“ in other peoples (especially if they’re female) problems. After listening to her tale I did feel somewhat sorry for her... always doing what her father wanted her to do. This Summer was the first time she’d been off on her own without her father looking over her shoulder... but he wasn’t all that far away and she still felt his presence. As we headed back to her car she reached out for my hand. The first time she touched me I just thought it was an accident. But she made it clear that next time that she wanted me to hold it. I remember trying to pull away and having her look at me with a pleading in her eyes. I relented and we walked the rest of the way hand in hand.

When we got to the car we had to try to get the sand off our feet. Pat sat on the passenger side seat and pulled one leg up onto it so she could get the sand from between her toes. I was sitting on the ground right by the door doing mine and when I looked up I had a fantastic upskirt. As close as I was and as light as it was there was no doubt that they were nylon and a very pale pink. When she changed legs so as to do the other foot I got another whole perspective. That made the whole trip worth it.

I had another hard time getting to sleep that night. Even though nothing had happened that afternoon I still felt guilty. All I could think of was Elle and by morning I’d decided that I had to get home to see her. I fabricated some story about having to go home to sign some legal papers and told my boss, AJ, that I’d only be gone Saturday and Sunday. (It was true but there was no deadline to get them signed) As far as work went, it was a good weekend to go. AJ had turned a couple of horses out to pasture and was going to let one of the grooms go. Since I wasn’t going to get paid while I was away he could use that money to pay him to take care of my horses. I’ll go over my trip home when I get to the part about Elle.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33f)

After that Pat made a point of looking for me in the paddock every night before she assumed her duties. She was very easy to talk to. I have no idea how long it was after that night in her office before I went back. I do remember that I was in the Clubhouse for the last race and didn’t have to go back to the barn that night. I saw her take the winner’s circle picture and decided I go down and try to catch up with her. She was just about to go up the stairs to her office when I did. It was basically the same sort of night as the last time. I was perspiring just sitting watching the last race and by the time I’d run after her my shirt was almost completely wet. As we climbed the stairs I could just barely make out a VPL but what I noticed was that the back of her blouse was wet as was the waistband of her khaki’s. The air inside the office was dead and combined with the chemicals from the darkroom it was hard to breathe. I remember coughing. Pat told me to wait there for a minute as she went into the dark room. When she returned she said she’d opened the windows and turned on the fan. I wish I could remember the small talk as we stood there but I do remember her saying that it probably wasn’t a good night to have a visitor. I asked her why and she said because it was so uncomfortable up there. We’d talked enough when we were in the paddock all those nights to be able to make small jokes with each other. She liked to tease with “asides”. That was a trait she probably picked up from her father only her father’s comments “bit” and sometimes hurt. In any case I made an aside back to her along the lines of ”I know... you just want to get rid of me so you can take off your clothes.“ I’m sure she laughed... she usually did whenever I tried to get back at her. After trading some barbs (non biting) she challenged me. I heard her but I honestly didn’t believe her. ”I will... if you will.“ I do remember standing there, looking at her. I think she said ”I’m waiting...“ and I do remember her standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. A challenge, if I ever heard one!

However, I wasn’t looking for a challenge. I was being a ”smart ass“, trying to be as quick and clever as she was. But she wouldn’t let up. She called me some names that I can’t really remember insinuating that I was ”chicken“ to do it. I finally started unbuttoning my shirt and as soon as I did she started on hers. I was about halfway done when I looked over at her and she was pulling her blouse off her arms. In spite of seeing her bra encased breasts I didn’t even have the start of a bulge. The whole situation, happening so quickly and unexpectedly, really had me reeling. Yes, I’d seen Elle and M J (many years before) undress but those situations were conducive to a bulge. For sure, I was uncomfortable. I had no sexual interest in Pat and I was, in my mind, totally committed to Elle. I really didn’t know what to do.

When I got my shirt off I hesitated. She stood there saying something like ”Don’t stop now!“. Once I had my belt undone she challenged me to a race in getting our pants off. There’s one thing I’ve never shied away from and that’s a race, of any kind. She won but only because I got my heel caught when pulling my foot out of a pants leg. Now we were standing there in only our underwear about three feet apart. I’m going to say I was somewhat embarrassed. I just didn’t know her that well to be at ease. I’ll also admit that I was unexperienced in dealing with females, especially ones who had ”lived a bit“, if you know what I mean.

I shouldn’t have worried. She opened the dark room door and ushered me inside and started in on her work. There were two windows and a fan in one. Just having the air moving past me made me cooler. She explained all the steps that she was taking in the developing process and at the end I was actually helping her. My job was to take the developed pictures out of the solution and hanging them up to dry. We finished in less than an hour and when we went back to the the office, the light, as dim as it was, made me wince. The other thing was that it was noticeably warmer in there. As my eyes adjusted to the light I finally focused on Pat and her underwear. She was, as I’ve previously mentioned, a solidly built girl. Her breasts were small for a girl of her size but still ample and the bra she was wearing was nothing special. She had a waist but it wasn’t nearly as pronounced as Elle’s. Of course I was interested in her panties and as I focused on them I felt the start of a bulge. The light wasn’t good enough and I wasn’t close enough to be sure if they were nylon or cotton. She started putting her blouse on right away which gave me a few extra seconds to focus on her panties. I noted that she filled them out well as there were no puckers anywhere. Once she started to step into her pants I started getting dressed myself. I definitely felt more at ease at this point that I had since she offered up the ”challenge“.

She made sure everything was OK in both rooms and then we left. I was all set to walk back to the barn but she insisted on driving me. It was still quite warm and riding with the top down felt good. I don’t remember any conversation until we got to the barn. I expected to just say ”good night“ and to get out of the car but as I turned to get out she put her hand on my shoulder. The exact words she spoke are long gone but she basically told me that she didn’t give ”free lessons“ and that I owed her. I had no idea what she meant by that... I kid you not. It cleared me at about 20,000 feet. The hand on the shoulder went to my neck and she pulled me back to her and when my face was leaning back towards her she bent down and kissed me on the lips. I’d been warm from the ambient temperature but after that I was hot... perspiring profusely. I forced myself back to a sitting position and bolted out of the car. I don’t remember if I looked back at the car or not as I disappeared into the tack room. It was a long time before I fell asleep. I’d never had a female come on to me like that before and I just didn’t know what to think or what to do.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33e)

As I stated in the Prologue, I got a ”promotion“ after working for AJ for around five weeks. It was early in July, somewhere around the 4th, when something I hated to do became somewhat of a pleasure. I had mentioned that one of my chores was to interact with the track photographer, a person who didn’t like me. AJ had won a couple of races and the owners wanted pictures. I went to the office to pick them up, expecting the usual ”grief“ from ”Red“ but found the office door locked and a sign posted that someone would be there at 5pm. One of the horses in my care was racing that night in the first race so there was no way to do it that night. I thought that if I saw ”Red“ in the paddock I’d ask why the change in office hours. But I didn’t see him. What I did see was a red headed girl with a camera and a nap sack walking through the area. I asked someone who she was and was told it was Red’s daughter. She was striking!. Not just from the long red hair but the fact that she was about 5’10” tall. I was far too busy to go over and ask about the change in hours but hoped that she would be in the office when I did get there.

Her name was Patricia but she demanded to be called “Pat”. I did make it the following night and was pleased, in more that one way, to find out she was replacing her father for the rest of the Summer. I found out she was going to be a Senior at McGill University in Toronto in the Fall and wanted to become, like her father, a professional photographer. Talking with her I couldn’t help but notice her freckles. As big as she was they actually “softened” her look. There weren’t many girls that I knew that were as tall and big as she was. She definitely wasn’t fat. “Solid” would be a much better description as I noted that her shoulders were wider than mine. She did have a “figure”, although dressed as she was (a loose fitting plaid sleeveless top and khaki pants) it didn’t jump out at you. In the first 10 minutes with her I’d talked more than I had with her father in more than a dozen separate visits. I left the office feeling that she and I would get along well.

The track was located in a valley and sometimes when the weather got really hot and humid it would get to be almost unbearable. Pat had changed the hours that her office was open because of that. They didn’t have air conditioning and the morning sun beat on the outside wall of the office. If she opened up at 5pm, the sun would be around to the other side and the temperature inside would be 5 to 10 degrees cooler. She also liked to sleep in in the morning so felt that it was more productive to do her developing duties after the races. It was a few weeks later when, again, I’d had a horse in an early race and couldn’t get to her office before my evening duties started. She told me that when that happened I should just come by after the races were over. By the time I finished up my chores that night the lights around the track had been off for a while. Being tired, I debated with myself as weather I should walk all the way up there (about 10 minutes) when it was so hot. I think the reason I did it was that I pretty much knew that with the heat I wouldn’t get much sleep anyway if I did try to go to bed.

I knocked on the door but no one answered. I tried the door and it was open. There was a small lamp on over in the corner and a lit sign beside the door to the dark room that read, in red, “DO NOT ENTER”. I’d been there enough to know that was where the film was developed and the only light was some sort of purple that didn’t affect the film. I was about to turn around and leave when the door opened. I know she wasn’t expecting anyone... for two reasons. The first was the scream she let out when she saw me. The second was the fact that she was standing there, half in and half out of the room, in only her bra and panties. She immediately retreated into the room but almost as quickly stuck her head out again. I’d like to be able to say that I got a real eyeful... but I didn’t. Her scream scared me almost as much as my visage scared her. I don’t remember who spoke first. Maybe we both spoke at the same time. In any case, she asked me to hand her her clothes which were lying on a chair. I’m laughing as I write this because I think my hands were shaking when I did.

She explained that with all the humidity that night that she was very wet from perspiration and without clothes and with a fan on on the dark room she was moderately comfortable. I think I just smiled. She gave me a tour and showed me what she was doing. Truthfully, it was very interesting. I even asked somewhat intelligent questions. At least they were enough for her to ask if I wanted to come back some night and watch the whole process. I knew I did but, with the uncertainess of my schedule, I didn’t know when.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33d)

It was easily a month until I saw Joanne and her family again. They had contacted me and invited me to attend the County Fair where Joanne was exhibiting not only her baking but also some cooked dishes. The only time I could go was on a Sunday which was also the last day of the Fair. Joanne’s sisters were also going. When I pulled into the yard I got an eyeful... of panties on the clothesline. I can only guess as to how many were up there but it had to be a dozen or more. There was nothing on the line but panties and bras. OH MY HEART!. Of course, the problem was that there was no way to get over to inspect them with everybody around. I wondered, to myself, why there were no other clothes hanging with them.

When the fair closed we all returned to the farm. The older girls wanted to change and ”get comfortable“ as soon as they arrived home. Joanne was directed to take in the wash. Now, if I were dating her I might have had at least a small reason to accompany her but I didn’t. It tore me up. The closest I got was opening the screen door to let her in. The pair on top was white nylon and a pale pink pair was right beneath it. So close and yet so far!

When the girls came downstairs Mrs. T. suggested that we go play horseshoes while she made something up for dinner. The older girls were wearing shorts and Joanne remained in her dress. The ”pit“ was along side the west or sunny side of the house.
It had been pleasantly warm all day and even though the sun was well on it’s way down, it remained that way. It was obvious that the older two, who were very good athletes, had plenty of experience in tossing horseshoes. It was Joanne and I against the two of them and it was no contest. I suggested that the older two go head to head and that Joanne and I would watch. Joanne sat down, leaning against a big tractor tire that had been painted white and had flowers in the middle. I chose to stand and, my decision paid off for me. Joanne had pulled her knees up to her chin and was resting it on them. A cat appeared and went right to Joanne. When she reached over to grab it she let one leg down, almost to the ground. With the setting sun shining on her I got what could’ve been considered a posed panty crotch picture. I was ”taken“ by the fullness of the crotch and immediately wondered who made the panties. I’d say I had a full 15 or so seconds of a straight on look. When she closed her legs she never looked my way so I was sure she didn’t catch me peeking. Her sisters were too involved in their competition to pay any attention. A very good memory, to say the least.

I had hoped to see more of Joanne during the Summer but circumstances were such that it didn’t happen. That didn’t mean that I didn’t think about her because, from time to time I did.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33c)

As hard as it is to believe that I didn’t have any ”romantic“ or sexual interest in Joanne, I truly didn’t. I would have had the same ”bulge“ no matter what girl was in the same situation with me. My ”interest“ in Joanne was, as I’ve said before, one of feeling a bit sorry for her in that circumstances had denied her a chance for a somewhat normal life. Every time I saw her I’d try to build up her self esteem and try to get her to expand her horizons. On the farm she had no social contacts at all other than the few people who visited her parents. Even though she was acknowledged to be ”slow“, she was attractive and, when I got her to open up a bit, did have the ability to communicate. She'd also proved that, given enough time, she was capable of learning how to do things like cooking and baking. From time to time I’d think of her and wonder what I could do to help her. As we sat there on the tree I was torn as to what to say. I can’t deny that the thought of a female wetting herself was, in itself, ”exciting“ to me. But, in this situation, the last thing I wanted to do was to take advantage of her naivety and to ask her if she’d had this happen before. Of course, I knew it had as her mother had told me way back in the Fall. But I wanted to put her somewhat at ease. The only way I could think of was to tell her about Elle.

I only had a minute or so to decide what to say. I don’t think I’d ever mentioned Elle’s condition to anyone who didn’t know her. I think I might’ve even rationalized telling Joanne about her by thinking that she would probably never meet Elle. So I told her that my fiancee had experienced somewhat the same situation. Her head popped up immediately. I don’t remember the words she spoke but it was obvious that she wanted to hear more. I know I didn’t figure on that happening. Again, I have no recollection of just what I said but I do remember her hanging on the fact that, even with her ”problem“, Elle was going about living without it being a burden. I also remember her saying that she wanted to meet her. Again, not something I’d planned on when I offered the information up to her. I was pleased with her reaction but also worried about what she might say if she ever did meet Elle.

By then it was getting late and we were still a fair distance from the boat house. I could see the ripples of some air (wind) skipping across the lake so we set out again. At least this time Joanne didn’t squeal with every motion of the boat. We were almost to the dock when the biggest puff of wind we’d seen all day hit the sail. It wasn’t much but it sure scared Joanne so that she did let out a small scream. We were at the dock within a minute. I had her grab and hold onto the dock while I lowered the sail. She was kneeling on the bottom of the boat and leaning over the side to do it. This time I knew the wet spot wasn’t water from the boat.

Once ashore and the boat secured we started for my car. We were almost there when she stopped and sort of grabbed at my arm. I looked at her and as I did I heard her sort of whisper. She was, shyly, admitting that she’d gone some ”pee pee“ when she’d squealed the last time. I already knew it but I feigned ignorance. I didn’t want to embarrass myself or her. I remember her apologizing. I found something for her to sit on for the trip home. What I didn’t expect was for her to start talking about it. The voyeur in me wanted to hear as much as possible but, for some reason I was uncomfortable. I don’t know exactly what I said but the gist of it was I asked if she knew why it happened. I knew, from what her mother had told me, that she’d wet herself when she got upset. But this hadn’t been anything like the situations I’d known about where she'd experienced some sort of failure. She said she didn’t really know but that it wasn’t happening as much as it used to. Believe it or not, that made me happy to hear.

I hadn’t given the post office a forwarding address when I'd left school. My mail was still going to the house I'd lived at. It only took a few seconds to stop and retrieve it and among the items was the letter from the college with my grades. Not good! But it could’ve been worse. Four C’s and one D. The D was in my basic Economics course. I didn’t like the professor and he didn’t like me. We had to choose our major in that second semester and, although I had no idea what I’d do with a degree in Psychology, I chose that because I liked the Professors and instructors in that department. Common sense said to make Economics my minor but, because I’d taken a basic Education course and done well in it, I chose that as my minor instead. After all, Elle was studying to be a teacher. Possibly, it was my introduction to Psychology that was the reason I became so interested in Joanne. In any case, as I drove back to the track I couldn’t get my mind off of her. I was still convinced that there was something that could be done for her and people like her.

It was few days until I ran into Pete again. He asked how the sail went and, because I happened to have a few minutes I told him a bit about Joanne. I remember telling him how unfair it had been to her to be told she couldn’t continue with school because she’d been left back twice. I told him that not only was it a blow to her self esteem but also it denied her social interaction. By then I’d gotten this idea that there should be some sort of program for kids, like her, who wanted to continue to go to school but were being denied because of the State Education Department rules. Pete let me ramble on for a while and then told me that I needed to talk to Doctor F, the head of the Education department. I asked why and he told me he’d just recently sent out some publicity on a study that Dr. F had published that was related to what I’d just told him. I can’t say I was jumping for joy with that news. I thought it might be a little presumptuous for someone who had only taken one course and was only planning on minoring in Education to go talk to the head of the department with a suggestion. I told Pete that I’d think about it.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33b)

Because it hadn’t been too long since I’d seen Joanne and had told her I’d take her sailing, that was something I thought about as I faced my first real day off. Sundays around the track were pretty laid back as there was no racing. You had your usual chores to do; muck out stalls, curry and clean up your horses, walk and ”grass“ them and, of course, water and feed them. After the noon time feeding you were basically free until 4:30pm at which time you had to clean the stalls and feed and water the horses. If you could ”trade“ a Sunday with another groom where he'd do your chores, you were free until 5:30am Monday morning. So, after two weeks of working steady, I was going to take some time for myself.

I’d contacted Mrs. T. a few days before to find out if it would be OK to stop by and possibly take Joanne sailing. She told me that Joanne hadn’t stopped talking about going sailing since I’d last seen her and had even gotten her mother to take her out to the lake that I sailed on while at school. My problem was that the college hosted the AMA (American Management Association) for their Summer continuing education programs and turned over all the recreational facilities to them. I couldn’t just show up at the boathouse and go sailing. Pete was the solution. Somehow he got me an AMA pass. I arrived at the farm around 2pm or so. Mrs. T. insisted on feeding me before we left so we got an even later start. One thing about lake sailing that I learned at school was the best wind was in the morning. Back home it was the exact opposite. We were in luck for as we got to the boat house we found a boat rigged and ready to go. Joanne was wearing Bermuda shorts and I remember thinking to myself, as she was climbing into the boat, that they were just a wee bit tight. The VPL was beautiful!. She, because she had no experience with boats, was somewhat shaken with the fact that the boat was ”tippy“. The boat was only 14 feet long and didn’t have any seats so the the preferred place to sit was on the deck. But, that made the boat more tippy so I told Joanne to sit inside the boat. By the time we left the dock she was almost ready to quit. I kept hearing squeals every time the boat would rock at all. There was enough wind to propel us out to the middle of the lake. It was a small lake to begin with so we weren’t all that far from shore but the look on the face of Joanne was one of pure fear. I tried calming her down and pretty much succeeded but she did ask to go ashore. It was not going well, at all.

By then the wind had dropped off to almost nothing. We didn’t have paddles or oars so there was nothing we could do but try to paddle with our hands. It was a beautiful, warm day and I was somewhat shocked when I touched the water that the temperature was still so cold. I paddled over one side and Joanne on the other. It was perfect for viewing her VPL... and more! There was a wet spot on her fanny. I’ll admit that I had a bulge growing. There was usually some water in the bottom of these boats from leakage so I pretty much attributed it to that. The effort of paddling seemed to calm her down even more and by the time we reached the ”island“ she was perfectly OK. The ”island“ wasn’t really and island but those who sailed there gave it that name. It became one when the water from the Spring thaw made its way to the lake. The water would rise to a point that cut this little nub of land off from the rest of the shore. It was always an annoyance when we were racing because we had to make sure we didn’t go aground. When we got to the point where I could see the bottom I told her it would be best to get out and walk the boat to shore. I got the boat as close as I could and she got up from inside the boat and sat on the deck. It was slippery and when she went to fling her legs up and over the side her whole body slipped and she slid into the water, fanny first. The water was maybe six inches deep at that point and I remember looking down at her sitting in about waist deep water. I expected her to be upset but she laughed. She sat there for almost a minute and when she got up she was wet from her waist down. I could see the outline of her panties through the wet material of her shorts. Hmmmmm... Very interesting, to say the least. She walked the boat ashore and it was another perfect vantage point for me. Her now wet VPL was a great sight!

I made sure the boat wouldn’t go anywhere and then joined her, sitting on an old felled tree. She had a impish look on her face when I sat down beside her. I asked her what was funny and she said she couldn’t tell me. I teased her about it a bit and then she said something I almost couldn’t believe. She said that she’d gotten wet on purpose. I think I gave her one of those ”You’ve got to be kidding!“ looks because the water was very, very cold. My toes had started to get numb from just the short time I was standing in it while securing the boat. So, naturally, I asked ”why“. And then she put her head down and almost in a whisper said it was because she had to go "pee pee." I honestly don’t know what my facial expression was at that moment. I do know I was glad she was looking down at the ground though.

To be continued...

SUMMER... and a whole new life (Part 33a)

PROLOGUE: I’m going to try a explain, as simply as I can, what my almost daily life was like that Summer. This way, when I tell about the interesting (and topical) parts of my Summer it might make more sense.

I was working for my grandfather’s horse trainer, A.J. To start, I was to take care of two race horses. The title for the job was “groom”. In essence, I was a caretaker. My day was from 5:30 am to as late as 1:30am the next morning, depending on weather one of my horses raced in the last race of the night. A.J. had about 20 horses in his stable. The barns at the track had 24 stalls and four “tack” rooms which were used as sleeping quarters for the grooms. A.J. used “colored” help. (Remember, this was 1957) They ranged in age from 70+ down to 20 something and most had been with him for years. I decided right from the start that I was going to live right with them. A.J.’s long time employee, Ed, who was around 30 years old, took me under his wing. I lived in the same room with him, Pop (70+) and George (20 something). I don’t know why but it worked.

A daily routine was to start by feeding the horses around 5:30am Then I had to muck out my two stalls. If one of my horses was to be trained on that day I had to “jog” the other one about 3 miles slowly around the racetrack the “wrong way“, wash and clean him (or her) up. Then I’d prepare the other one for usually 4 trips at increasingly faster times around the track (the right way) at intervals of about 45 minutes apart. When that was done (around noon) I’d wash and ”cool out” the horse by giving him water and walking him slowly around the immediate barn area for about an hour. Then I had to curry his hair and massage and bandage his legs before feeding him his noon meal. Then I had to clean all the equipment up and put it away. It was usually around 2pm by the time I would finish. Next was to get lunch at the “cook house” and try to get a few minutes of sleep, especially if you had to go to the track with a horse that was racing that night. A horse in the first race meant you started getting ready around 4:30pm. If your horse was in the last race you would start around 7:30pm and be done around 1:30am only to start all over again 4 hours later.

If neither of your horses was racing you could be asked to go to the “paddock” (where the hoses are staged before they race) to help one of the other grooms. That was a good deal because the “helper” got paid and the other didn’t. I looked forward to being asked. But, after about 5 weeks or so I was “promoted” in that I was now helping to warm up the horses that were racing. That meant I would get to go the “right way” around the track for either one or two of the three times the horses would warm up (or “practice”, like some of the owners would call it). It was exciting but it meant about $30 a week less for me. I would go out onto the racetrack and in front of all the bettors, go a couple of slow miles (about 45 minutes apart). When I did that I was living a fantasy. When I was finishing up I would imagine that I was crossing the finish line of an actual race.

A.J. had used Ed to help him for years and now I was being trained for that job. Ed, surprisingly, had no problem whatsoever with that. That’s what made our friendship so special. One of those jobs was to actually fill out the entry blanks for the horses that A.J. wanted to race. I’d run up to the track office before the daily deadline. I was a “new face“ and everybody wanted to know who I was. One of the first people I met was someone I’d seen around the Administration office at college. Pete was a full time employee at the school but was also the publicity director at the track during the Summer. We struck up a friendship right away. Every day, around 10:30am, after going up to the office I’d stop and say ”Hi“ to Pete. He proved to be a valuable friend.

The owners liked to have pictures of their horses, especially those taken during a race. Ordering them was time consuming and A.J. hated to waste the time doing it even though it was a necessary evil. I was a willing puppet. The track photographer was a gruff Canadian with a definite French accent. He went by the name of ”Red“ as, at one time, he had a crop of bright red hair. Red and I did not kick it off on the right foot. I guess it was because I was new to the business and hadn’t ”paid my dues“. In any case, that was a part of my job I did not relish.

It would be pointless to try and write about this Summer using a ”time line“ like I have been doing. I was far to busy to be able to try and remember what came first, second, etc. So what I’m going to do is to list five females that played a role in making it a very memorable Summer for me. Of course, there was Elle and also Joanne who you’ve already met. But the three others were Patricia (Pat), Alida and Tricia. I’ll write it so that each will be ”featured“ in a separate part.

To be continued...

SIGNS OF SPRING... and better times (Part 32h)

The picture taking pretty much ended the day. We both had things that we HAD to do at home. As much as I would liked to have stayed forever, reality said we had to get going. I had suggested that Elle not put her bathing suit back on but she was concerned that her mother would notice and how would she be able to explain that. I, somewhat selfishly, suggested that she might want to pee before we left and she did, allowing me to watch but not touch. As bold as she’d been in stripping down to her panties she still wouldn’t get fully naked in front of me. So she, as expected (and I wanted), peed through her panties. She didn’t really want the pee in her bathing suit so we stuffed a few paper napkins between her wet panties and her suit when she put it back on. Since she had worn jeans over her suit the fact that the napkins showed didn’t matter.

Driving home I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I can tell you I was seriously doubting my decision to go work with the horses. But it’s amazing how fast things can turn around from good to bad. When we pulled into the driveway I saw my mother sitting on the steps to the back porch. That was NOT a good sign. She called us up to the house and once inside started in on me about our engagement. Of course I’d told Elle about the less than enthusiastic reception I’d gotten when I told my parents. Rather than go through all the stupid details, suffice it to say the problem had to do with the ”caste system“. My grandmother was unbelievably old school and the fact that Elle’s father had once worked for my grandfather made her ”inferior“ and not worthy to marry into the family. When we started dating my mother had been able to keep the situation under control by saying it was just infatuation and that I’d soon tire of Elle. An engagement announcement would show that it was more than infatuation. So, what she was proposing was for us to postpone the public announcement until she had time to ”massage’ the situation. Elle was definitely not happy but deferred to me. As far as the public was concerned I could care less. We agreed to talk with Elle’s mother and, since she was the one actually making the announcement, leave it up to her. WHEW!!!

It took a little persuasion but she agreed to it. Elle, on the other hand said she was going to wear the ring openly. By doing that she wasn’t going against what my mother had asked so she was OK with it. But, all these machinations had totally screwed things up as far as my plans for the evening were concerned. My grandparents were supposed to have come for supper but, because of the engagement thing ,my mother had canceled it. I knew I had to see them before I left and that meant a trip to their house. More time away from Elle!

Monetarily, it was worth it as my grandfather gave me some "insurance" money. Time wise it was costly. I didn’t get back to Elle’s house until probably around 10pm. The lights were out which meant her parents were in bed. That was good. But my “new” car had very loud mufflers and there was no way to quiet them down. I know that if we decided to go off in the car her parents would know and it was what might happen to Elle that made me suggest we just go for a walk. There was a community beach just down the road from Elle’s house. We seldom went there because it was usually occupied and also bordered by two houses. We were afraid that if we got “involved” and anyone saw us word would travel fast. But we headed there on this night.

There were two old logs that had washed up in one storm or another. People using the beach used them to sit on or, if they sat on the sand, as a backrest. We sat down, side by side until the few kids that were still there left. When we felt comfortable that there was no “life” at either of the houses Elle got up and sat on my knees, straddling them. She slid up as close as she could get to me and we just held each other. I don’t remember much if any conversation taking place. Even though we were facing each other, Elle had her head on my shoulder. In spite of the excitement of the afternoon, I was content to just sit there like that. I have no idea how long we sat there without moving. The first thing I noticed was a warm feeling on my inner thighs. It only took a second to know what was happening. But I didn’t say anything and Elle didn’t move. That sort of told me she didn’t even know she’d leaked and that was when I started to get hard. It was probably less then a minute before it got a whole lot warmer. I remember pulling her closer to me and when I did I woke her up. She realized immediately what was happening and tried to get up. I wouldn’t let her. She relaxed after a couple of half hearted tries and then I felt the rest of her pee flooding my groin area. I only had to move slightly before I came.

We sat there for a while longer before we made an effort to get up. I, of course, was a mess and the front of Elle’s skirt had gotten wet when I'd pulled her up close to me. If we’d been in front of my house I think we might’ve gone swimming, or at least gotten wet. But we headed for her house. When we said our “good nights”, it was pretty tame and I never even touched her wet panties. I’m not sure why. Once in bed I sure relived those two wonderful parts of our day together.

Elle helped me pack the car the next morning and with everybody around to wish me good luck we never really got any private time. I was probably halfway to the track before the melancholy of leaving her was replaced by the excitement of what I was about to do.

To be continued...

SIGNS OF SPRING... and better times (Part 32g)

Another thing I had to do while I was home was buy some clothes to work in. Because Elle and I had been running around, separately, trying to get things taken care of, I invited her to go with me just to have some time with her. One thing we both missed while at school was seeing the water. The nearest town that had enough of a variety of clothes wasn’t all that far from the ocean. Elle, knowing that, asked if I wanted to drive over when I finished getting my clothes. I didn't jump at the suggestion but did agree to go. She said we could make it a picnic. I didn’t have enough nerve to say that wasn’t what I was thinking of because I wanted our last full day together to go as smoothly as possible. She put together some sandwiches, fruit and a thermos of lemonade, grabbed a blanket and then we were off.

Since it was early June, the influx of tourists had not begun and we were able to find a secluded place in amongst the dunes. Elle had quietly grabbed her portable radio and when I saw it told me it wasn’t an ”official picnic“ without a portable radio. I was shocked when Elle started disrobing until I realized that she had her bathing suit on under her clothes. That disappointed me. I didn’t say anything though, vowing not to ruin our last day. I needn't have worried.

She explained that it wouldn’t be any fun ”going to the beach“ if she wasn’t in a bathing suit. I’d not seen this one before. It was a dark blue, form fitting, one piece suit and completely different from any I’d ever seen on her before. When asked about it she said when she put on one of her old suits in a required swim class at college she’d been teased. One of her roommates gave her this one and that’s where it came from. One thing I liked and that was that it didn’t leave anything to the imagination when it came to her shape.

As soon as she’d stripped and gotten the blanket arranged she wanted to run down to the water. Another reason we’d chosen a place up by the dunes was so we were out of the wind and blowing sand so it was a fair ways to the ocean. The waves at the ocean are a lot different than the ones on the bay where we lived. Even though the wind was blowing off shore there were still large swells that rolled softly onto the beach. As soon as we got to the water’s edge Elle ran in. I, wearing long pants, stayed on shore trying to roll the legs up a ways. Elle came back to get me and we started walking along the water’s edge, dodging the swells as we went. Elle saw something in the sand and bent over to pick it up. When she did I thought I saw a wisp of white peek out from under her suit on her right cheek. She didn’t stay down long enough for me to really see anything but it had my curiosity. I was hungry and finally persuaded her to go back to our things. On the way she, again, spied something in the sand. This time I got a much better look as she bent over and this time it was white peeking out from under her suit on both cheeks. I wanted to ask her what was up with that but kept my mouth closed, hoping that I’d see more while we were eating.

My wish came true. She ended up sitting, yoga style, across from me and this time I saw white peeking out from both sides of the crotch of her suit. It took all my will power to keep from asking about it. When we finished eating she said she wanted to start on her tan and proceeded roll over and to lie on her back. I hadn’t planned on spending the whole afternoon there but, again, didn’t want to say something to upset her and possibly make our last day unpleasurable. I took off my shirt and lay, face up, next to her. As tired as I was and as warm as it was I was asleep in minutes.

I felt something around my waist and opened my eyes. I don’t really know how to describe my initial thoughts as I looked up at Elle who was standing over me and trying to undo my belt and pants. The way she was standing had her blocking the direct sun from my eyes but it was still overly bright as I looked up at her. There was something wrong! I didn’t see the dark blue of her bathing suit. What I saw was her uncovered breasts, swaying gently, about 6 or 7 inches from my face. As I looked a little bit lower I saw the unmistakable white of her panties. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up faster in my life.

She had loosened my pants enough for her to begin to pull them down and I assisted her by raising my butt off the blanket. When they were down by my calves she backed up to pull them off all the way. That gave me my first daylight look at almost all of her. With the sun directly behind her it was hard to see all the ”details“. Freed from my pants I immediately got up and grabbed her to kiss her. At that particular time in my life I was wearing boxer shorts. As you know, they offer no resistance to a hard on. Here we were, almost naked, hugging and kissing each other on a deserted (as far as we knew) beach. A fantasy? NO! It was real.

I know you want to know the juicy details of what happened next... but... you do have to remember our ”close call“ back during the Winter. As hard as it was for us, we did. But we did manage to have some real fun.

Elle had woken up first and knew she needed to pee soon. She got the idea to take off her suit and was going to pee through her panties along side the blanket. Seeing me sleeping there she got the idea to wake me up so I could enjoy it as well. And enjoy it I did. If there was a bad part it was she wouldn’t let me ”visit“ inside her panties. Rubbing outside was OK and I was happy, but not satisfied, with that. We ended up lying side by side and ”playing“, gently, with each other’s sensitive parts. It was fun but still very frustrating.

Elle was, as you’ve probably seen, not a chance taker. I couldn’t get over the fact that she’d stripped to nothing but her panties, in public, and out in broad daylight to boot. I sort of rationalized it by the fact that we hadn’t seen another person the whole time we were there. But, to put the icing on the cake, the biggest surprise was when she reached into the bag that had contained our food and pulled out her little Brownie camera.

It became quickly obvious that she’d pretty much planned the whole day. As modest and demure as she was she’d decided that I should have some ”nice“ pictures of her to have with me while I was away. Initially I thought she might let me take one or two. I think I got seven... and they were good, especially for only a tiny little Kodak Brownie camera.

To be continued...

SIGNS OF SPRING... and better times (Part 32f)

Time flies when you’re having fun, or so they say. I don’t know how long our "conversation” took but never once did Elle bring up the subject of needing a bathroom even though she had originally gotten up to go there. When we stood up to give each other a big kiss and hug I honestly don’t know when the “flood” started but I could hear her pee splashing on the concrete steps. She never let go of me or stopped kissing. It was certainly a unique situation. As I remember it, my thoughts were only on one thing and that was that Elle had accepted the idea of us being apart for the Summer without a fuss. I’d worked myself up to a point that I was sure there would be a “scene“, but it wasn’t to be. I have no idea how long we stood there kissing before Elle finally pulled away. I do remember she had a somewhat sheepish grin on her face and said something about being a bad girl. That brought me back to the present and looking at the puddle beneath her did excite me. Other than her socks being wet there was no evidence on her clothes. We picked up our books and headed back to the Sorority.

I don’t remember any conversation taking place concerning her ”accident“. I do remember us deciding that I wouldn’t come over the next weekend though. With exams less than two weeks away Elle didn’t want any distractions, even though I wouldn’t see her until we got home. I thought that with this new twist and the fact that I wouldn’t see her very much until we got back to school she would relent but she didn't. That put a little damper on my euphoria and I don’t remember much happening, other than studying, the rest of the afternoon.

At midnight, the day before final exams started, was the time for ”The Call“, where our poker group disbanded and everybody had to pay up. I knew I was in good shape but until all the chits were tallied I didn’t know by how much. One of the group, Rodger, was a nice guy but not all that bright. We pretty much knew he was the big looser but had no idea it was as bad as it was. Even though it had been a penny ante game we didn’t have limits on raising and Rodger got caught time and time again. Around the table it ended up that he owed over $300. That, in 1957, was a LOT of money! When the individual tally was made known, he owed me over $125. That left him owing over $175 to all the others. He just shook his head and threw the keys to his car on the table.

I had coveted his car right from the first time I saw it. It was a 1951 Mercury two door sedan with some custom work and multiple carburators. I know, for sure, that my brain wasn’t connected to my mouth because I told him I’d take the car and pay off all the others if that was OK by him. I had no idea what the car was worth or, more importantly, where I was going to come up with roughly $175 before exams were over but I had a handshake deal on the car.

Sometimes help appears from out of nowhere. When I called to tell my father that I was definitely going to work with the horses that Summer he asked if I would be willing to sell my car to my brother. He had just turned 16 and had just gotten his license. My father was concerned that my car was somewhat at risk to be on the road for long distances and, since my brother wouldn’t be going all that far, it was a good fit for him. I couldn’t believe it. My money problem was solved without me doing anything. Without telling him the source of my new car I told him that I had a replacement in mind. It was truly a miracle.

Originally, the only reason I had to go home after exams was to pick up my car for the Summer (and to see Elle). Now, with a car at hand, I came up with an idea that would give me more time with Elle. We'd both had to find and pay for rides to get home and now, with me having a car, we could both save money and I could be with her on the drive home. Exams couldn’t be over fast enough!

It was a good thing Elle had made me study when we had been together because any chance I had for passing had to be due to that. Knowing that she was finished her exams the day before I was was disconcerting to me for some reason. I rushed through the last exam and took off well before the time limit was up. I was packed and ready to go and, when I arrived at Elle’s sorority, so was she. It was about a seven hour trip and because we left Elle’s school about mid afternoon it put us at the city just after rush hour. I made two stops for Elle before we got there and she did have on a ”package“ just in case. Her improved ”holding” ability was evident because she was still dry when we pulled into her driveway. I had no problems with my “new” car so, all in all it was a good trip. The only thing was that I had to turn around and head back in a day and a half.

There were a lot of things we had to accomplish in the short time I was to be home. Telling her parents we were engaged was probably the easiest. Telling mine was a little more difficult. I won’t waste time in explaining why but “take it to the bank“ when I say it was. Another thing was getting squared away with the racecar. Cliff, the driver, had secured a sponsorship that gave us enough money to buy a competitive racecar. But, with me not going to be around meant not being able to count on me for money when he needed it. For the first Summer in my memory, my brother was going to home and not at either a camp or Summer school. I approached him about ”buying“ my share of the car. He didn’t have any money but, knowing that he had our father wrapped around his finger, I told him to ask him. Long story short, my father said yes. I didn’t get anything (think $$) but at least I was released from having to pay any money out during the racing season. Truthfully, I was pissed!. Now my brother had not only a street car but also a racecar and he hadn’t put any of his own money into either. But I didn't dwell on it.

To be continued...