INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER... Part 24a)

As I’ve previously mentioned, the area I lived in was a Summer destination. Once late Spring arrived, the Summer crowd would start to reappear on weekends and then retreat to their primamry homes during the week. But, once the local schools let out for the Summer more and more families would settle in for the Summer. The “real” Summer, as far as the “locals” viewed it, was the last few days of June up to Labor day in early September. Cliff, the owner of the gas station, managed to raise enough of a ruckus to get the new station completed in time for the Summer rush. I was thankful to be out from under the thumb of my Father (and Mother in his absence) and to get into a daily routine.

One of the attractions of the new gas station was the car wash which I was to run. As a promotional gimmick, Cliff had offered a discount for anyone filling their gas tanks. It was obvious from the outset that he had underestimated the public’s response. I was overwhelmed. After just one day Cliff realized that he had to hire more help. I had a Summer friend, Andy, who didn’t have a job. He was more than willing. We soon discovered that between the two of us we could actually more than double the output of just one person. It was also fun to work with a friend.

The first thing Elle and I did when I got my car back on the road was to go check out the previous Summer’s parking places. I was disappointed to find that a house was being built at our place at the creek. We’d abandoned it anyway but it was still a place with a lot of memories. Our abandoned garage site appeared to be the same so that was option one. The least favorite place, by the old Boy Scout camp, was still viable but certainly not desirable. We both agreed that we needed to look for some other places.

One of the first people to visit the new gas station was my sailing friend, Buddy. He’d come out to get his sailboat ready for the upcoming racing season. He asked if I was ready and I wasn’t. I hadn’t even gotten the boat out of the garage. He told me that his girlfriend, Carol, was coming out on Sunday and they were going sailing. He was hoping that Elle and I could join them. What with the racecar and going to see my Grandfather’s horses race, there really hadn’t been time to work on the boat too. But, once he put the idea in my head... I couldn’t get it out.

Cliff had originally decided not to run the car wash on Sundays because I was going to be off racing the sailboat. Even with Andy there he decided to hold to his decision. I was originally scheduled to work the gas pumps from 8am to noon on Sundays but with Andy now there I offered the hours to him. That allowed me to attempt to get the sailboat ready to go with Buddy and Carol. It took most of the morning to find all the pieces and, with Elle’s help, I was ready to leave for the sailing club before noon. Elle’s mother made some brownies to go along with the sandwaiches my mother had made us and with them in hand we were off.

The sailing club usually opened up, full time, at least a week before the official season started (the weekend closest to July 4). Sometimes it was opened for a few weekends before that but not this year. Because the air and water were still cold, Elle had decided to wear a pair of bermuda shorts and a windbreaker instead of a bathing suit. Knowing I was going to get wet putting the boats in the water, I wore a bathing suit. I “checked” Elle out as we were loading the sails into the car and, much to my disappointment, she’d decided to wear a “package”. Carol, Buddy’s girlfriend also wore shorts and, as soon as I saw her, began checking for a VPL (visible panty line). I was soon rewarded.

It only took a short time to rig and get the boats in the water. The wind, thankfully, was light and was favorable for us to head for a place Elle and I’d sailed to before. We anchored in such a way that the girls could get ashore without getting wet. As we ate I was not only able to get some VPL views of Carol, but also some very good DP’s (downpants). Seeing the VPL’s, I wanted to get some panties like Carol’s for Elle. The only thing was that I had no idea who made them. At least it was a thought for future action.

By the time we were ready to get back in the boats it had been at least three hours since Elle had used a toilet. I knew that the pad in her panties had to be wet and began wondering just how much it would hold. It didn’t take long to find out. About halfway home we had to change positions in the boat. When we did I saw the telltale lines around the leg elastics of her sanitary panties were now wet. I didn’t say anything though. Luckily for Elle, the wind came up and some wave action wet the deck where she was sitting thus hiding the pee leaks. It wasn’t as fortunate for Carol as the wetness on her butt made her light colored shorts almost translucent. The only thing better would’ve been if her shorts were totally wet. We all decided to try for another picnic before the Summer was over.