MOVING ON... (Part 4b) Continued

With school over it was time to head back "home".
Pretty much the same group of kids were back for the
summer. The big change was that the strange family
(the psychologist parents) didn't return. There were
no new kids added to our group. We sill continued to
play "Hide & Seek" on occasion after supper but we now
occupied ourselves more with softball and games we
made up that took us into the nearby woods. My future
brother-in-law had a vivid imagination. He created
this fantasy like world in the woods and it seemed
like the majority of the kids went along with the
idea. It was over a mile to where we entered the woods
and we'd ride our bikes to that place. We'd managed to
make a trail through the brush into a fairly open
area. Just off of that were some trees that had been
blown over in a hurricane and they were covered with
wild vines. This became our secret world. Now, as part
of this secret world, there were some "rules". I won't
pretend that I remember them because I don't. What I
do remember was that somehow my future brother-in-law
had instilled in all of us a bit of "fear" about being
in this part of the woods but not enough to keep us from
it. I could go ask my wife but if I did she'd want to
know why I wanted to know. In any case, take that as a
"given". The girls were especially susceptable to this
"fear". We would usually arrive and leave all as a
group. However, there were times when someone would
have to go to the bathroom or need to leave to go
home for some reason. When this would happen, whoever
it was would usually ask if someone would go with them
at least back to their bike. The girls, however,
wouldn't go with each other. They would want a boy to
accompany them. At first it wasn't a problem. But,
with time, it got to the point that no boy was willing
to do it. The first time I really took notice was when
my wife-to-be pleaded for any boy to go with her.
(Remember, she'd been sick the previous summer with
the kidney/bladder problem and had a bit of a "dribble")
problem.) I had a crush on her but, at that time, it just
wasn't "cool" to be going out with girls, at least in our
group. But, with the knowledge from the previous
summer (the dribble problem) it suddenly dawned on me
that it might be a good idea to go with her. When I
said I was leaving with her, my future brother-in-law
decided to play a trick on us. The path we'd cut to the
clearing was a bit circuitous. He, on his own, had found
a more direct way only we didn't know. When we left the
group he took off on his new route, easily beating us back
back to where we'd all left our bikes. We were almost
there when we heard this noise from the underbrush. My
future wife went into a panic attack, scared to death.
I was scared too, but not like she was. Because the
noise was ahead of us, closer to the road, she insisted
we go back. Our path carried us over a few samller fallen
trees. She was ahead of me and, as she climbed over them,
I could see that she'd wet her pants... and it wasn't just
a "dribble". OH MY HEART! When we were almost back to the
group she stopped and turned to me. She then told me
she couldn't go all the way back. I played "dumb" and
asked why and all she'd say was she just couldn't. She
pleaded with me to get all the kids together and for all of
us to leave. I kept asking her why but she wouldn't tell me.
I knew, of course, but I wanted her to tell me. Finally
I relented and told the group about the noise and that
it was probably a good idea to leave as a group. While
they were gathering I went back to where my future
wife was hiding and told her they'd all be leaving. She
waited until all the others had passed by and then went on
just ahead of me. This was great for it allowed me
another "up close & personal" look at her wet jeans.
On our way home I concentrated on storing this memory
away for future reference. What I didn't expect was
when she came up to me later that night and thanked me
for getting everybody to leave at once. I again asked
her why, ever playing the role of the naive fool. I
guess she believed that I didn't know she was wet
because she finally came out and told me. It was an
instant hard-on, talking about wet pants with a girl
who had just wet hers. I remember kind of leaning
forward trying to hide the bulge in my pants. What
solidifies this memory for me though, is that she went
into detail about her problem and even gave some examples
of embarassing experiences. When she was done she made me
promise not to tell. Believe me, I kept that as my
personal secret and never told any of those kids about
what I knew. That "disclosure" became the foundation of our
relationship, although I didn't realize it at the time.

I "concentrated" on my future wife for the rest of the
summer. (BTW: Her name is Elle) It wasn't in the form
of dating, but in the area of observation. I don't remember
how many times I saw little spots of wetness, real or
imagined, over the course of that summer. Whatever the
number, you can be sure it led to some serious masturbation
once in bed though. Unfortunately, I didn't get but a few
peeks of her panties. Other than that it was a quiet summer.
Beth, (the girl next door) her sister and cousins were back
as usual. She was older, fatter and as homely as ever. She
didn't venture out of their yard as much as in past years so
there weren't any specific rememberances there. Their wash line
line was still an "attraction" but only from a distance. I did
notice, however, that there were more than the "Spanky Pants"
on the line. I assumed that the white and pastel panties were
those of her sister.

To be continued...