INTO THE "REAL" SUMMER... (Part 24b)

Elle and I hadn’t really been out on a “date” since we’d come home. During the previous Summer we often went to the movies on Sunday night. With all that I had going on in my life at that time it seemed like a good idea. The more I thought about it, the more I looked forward to it... so much though that I found myself with a “soft” bulge in my pants.

We decided to go to the 7pm show but had no idea what was playing. So, when we walked up to the theater I remember both of us looking at the posters and shaking our heads negatively. That meant we had a lot of daylight time on our hands. We decided to take a small ferry boat that ran between the mainland and a small inhabited island. Even though it was a bit cool out it was still nice to be outside. Elle, as usual, wore a skirt. When the ferry left the slip we stood up front to get a good view but the moving air was just too cool for Elle. There was a small enclosed room for passengers up over the cars. As we climbed up the stairs, a puff of wind caught Elle’s skirt and blew it up around her waist. I already knew that she was wearing nylon panties (just for me) but seeing them in this way was a turn on just the same. Once in the room we found ourselves alone. Being turned on by seeing her panties I just had to take advantage of it. She resisted because, in her mind, she was still “out in public”. But I was able to overcome her resistance and, although nothing really “interesting“ took place, by the time the ferry arrived at the island my bulge was very noticeable. Because we were ”in public“ I remember Elle thinking my condition was quite funny.

The island was where the regional sailing championships had taken place the previous Summer. Elle had been there on the last day but, because I’d had the boat and car we’d not done any ”exploring“. With nothing to lose we decided to just walk around the area. I’ll admit that I’d been keeping track of the time since we left home and knew it wouldn’t be long until Elle needed a toilet. If we’d been in a position where there was a chance of being around other people I would’ve made and effort to remind her of the time. But, and I’ll admit it was selfish of me, I didn’t, and as I thought of what was soon to happen I could feel my bulge growing. We found a gazebo at the end of the road we were on that overlooked the harbor. With the sun starting to set and the clear blue skies it was a ”Kodak moment“. It was probably a 20 or so minute walk to the yacht club where there was a ladies room. I remember debating with myself on weather to plant the idea in her mind about the time. But I didn’t and ended up being somewhat rewarded for it. We were there, in the gazebo, for probably 10 minutes or so. When we started back down the road I remember Elle letting out some sort of sound indicating something was wrong. Again, I’ll admit that I was excited at the prospect of what was to happen. We hadn’t seen anybody at all when we’d walked to the gazebo and no one while there.

I played ”dumb“ when she let out her sound and asked what was wrong. She asked me what time it was and seemed truly surprised how late it was. But that was the ”trigger“. Once she realized how long it’d been since she’d last been to the bathroom and, on top of what had probably been a small ”leak“, it was panicsville. I remember her looking in all directions around where we were standing. I also remember her asking where she should go as she knew she was going to pee. I know my bulge was visable because I remember hurting "down there". I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back towards the gazebo. I, more or less, dragged her around to the front of the gazebo. It was on a slightly sloped grassy knoll. The floor of the gazebo was right at my shoulder height so I could see if anyone was headed in our direction. Once there I told her to go, that no one could see what she was doing. As I told her that I could feel a ”pulsing“ in my groin area. I couldn’t believe it. Here she was, about to pee her panties, and I’m coming in my pants. I’d not touched myself to have caused it and was totally puzzled. I honestly don’t remember anything about her peeing. I was too concerned about what was going on in my own pants to pay attention to her.

When it was all over, for both of us, it was pretty embarrassing. Because of hurrying and then ending up on a slope, Elle’s pee had mostly run down one leg and flooded her sock and shoe. For me, all I could see was an ever widening wet spot just above my crotch. I don’t remember if we laughed while still there but we did much later on. We ended up sitting on the grass, leaning against the latticework that covered the underpart of the gazebo. I remember Elle taking off her sock and wringing the pee out of it and, after a few minutes, persuading her to lift her knees up and spreading her legs so I could see her panties. I can still see that image today.

Elle, in anticipation of what we’d probably do after the movies, had brought a pair of the Carter’s cotton panties to put on for our trip home. When we finally decided to leave she did slip them on. Convinced that no one could see us she did give me a ”show“ when she pulled them on over the nylon ones. When she was pulling the cotton panties up I got a really good look at the now just damp nylon panties and could see just how far the wetness had wicked up. Being a natural blond. her pubic hair was so light that I couldn’t really make it out. But, by then I’d recovered enough to feel my bulge beginning all over again.

Elle had no problem when we got back to the ferry for the return trip to the mainland. She’d taken off her other sock and her damp panties were covered by her skirt. For me, it was a different story. As soon as we saw people I walked up close to Elle, trying to hide the wet spot which had grown to the size of an orange. Elle thought it was funny and I remember her saying something along the lines of it being good for me. That I deserved to find out what she had to go through. I couldn’t really disagree except for the fact that, in most cases, she wore skirts or dresses which hid her problem. In retrospect, the whole incident made for a very memorable incident.