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...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
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...
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...
Sunday, August 24, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
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...
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...
Monday, August 18, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
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...
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...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
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...
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...
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
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...
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...
Sunday, August 03, 2008
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...
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...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)