A DIFFERENT KIND OF SUMMER... some ripples (Part 45k)

When we sat back down on the sofa to read the drama class assignment Elle took a seat at the other end. I encouraged her to get closer but all she did was to smile. I couldn’t figure why she was smiling. But then, ever so subtly, she lifted her legs, one at a time, up onto the seat. The view I got solved my puzzlement. Then she said that if I was a “good boy”, and concentrated on my reading, there would be a “surprise“ for me when I was finished. Talk about pressure! It was hard enough to concentrate knowing what was under her tented skirt but the anticipation of a ‘surprise” made it almost impossible. I know I read some passages at least three times.

It was around 11pm when my parents came home. They stopped to say “hello” and then headed upstairs to bed. That, in itself, was a relief. I guess I finished up about a half hour later. When I said I was done Elle said something that didn’t make any sense when she said it. It was something like “I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t make it.” I had no idea what she meant until we walked out the front door. Once there she grabbed my hand and ran for the steps to the beach. That’s when the light went on. She’d been holding off going to the bathroom hoping to last until I was finished.

Once on the sand she grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up to her waist. She kept walking until she was under the raised part of the dock. Once there she stopped and spread her legs. It was dark but I certainly knew what was happening. Within seconds I could hear her pee puddling in the sand. I stepped up to her and put my hand on her crotch. She hated it when I did that when she was actually peeing because it made her it run down her legs... but she didn’t say anything and put her free arm around me and drew me up to her so we could kiss. If we’d been just about anywhere but right in front of my house... Well, you know what I mean.

The Territorial regatta was a two day, three race series. It brought the best sailors in our area together. It was certainly tougher racing than our regular club races even though our club had some of the best skippers. Rick and I were there early, anxious to get started. I was pleased to see the twins were still racing. It had been two years since I’d last seen them and what a difference those two years made. They had matured in all ways and had given up that annoying habit of wearing the same clothes. Pam had let her hair grow longer and had it in a pony tail for the races. Penny had hers cut shorter and it was somewhat curly. It was now easy to tell them apart. To be truthful, one of the first things I thought of was were they still wearing the same heavy cotton panties that I remembered them wearing. There were other people that I recognized as well. The weather was perfect and I was excited to get going.

I saw that the twins had changed into bathing suits (not the same) to race in. I, of course, was hoping that they’d be wearing their clothes. They had towed their boat behind a station wagon that was parked right in front of where my boat was located on the beach. I saw Pam headed for the wagon carrying what appeared to be clothes. Rick and I were just about ready to launch when I saw her. We were waiting for another guy to come over to help us and when I saw her headed down the beach to her boat I ran up to the wagon. The windows were up and the doors locked but there on the front seat were the clothes and right on top was a pair of white nylon panties. It was certainly another sign that they were maturing.

We did very well and were in third place after the two races. It was exciting to be so competitive against the best. The club was holding a cook out and party that night and Elle had switched with one of the other girls at work so she could attend. The only bad thing was that the twins spent more time hanging around us than I would’ve liked. I won’t say Elle was jealous because she had met them at races in years past but it was a bit uncomfortable.

We left the party fairly early and, just because we were both a bit anxious, I decided we’d go back to the abandoned garage. Because the sailing club building was built out on the beach a slatted wooden path was made so people wouldn’t have to get sand in their shoes on the way to and from the parking lot. The problem with it was that the slats were placed a bit too far apart. Anyone wearing flip flops or open toed sandals had to be careful that their shoes didn’t get caught between the slats. We were hurrying down the path with me in front and holding one of Elle’s hands. All of a sudden I felt my arm jerk and by the time I turned around Elle was on her side lying on the path. I got to her right away and I heard her say something I’d never heard before... a swear word.

As I stooped down to help her up I could see that when she fell she had skinned her knee. But that wasn’t was what caused her to swear. She was wetting herself and as she was wearing a brand new pair of bermuda shorts, it upset her. When I got her to her feet I could see that one side of her shorts were completely wet. She wasn’t happy, at all, and when she realized she had a skinned knee it made her madder. I had a small first aid kit in the car and once there I cleaned it up and put a few band aids on it. As I was doing that she said it was all my fault. That puzzled me and I asked her how it could be my fault. She’d put off using the toilet to save her pee for me for when we got to the garage. Hmmm... I appreciated the thought but had a hard time accepting the blame.

The net result was that the thoughts of what we’d expected to do had quickly disappeared. She wanted to go home to wash out the shorts so they wouldn’t get stained. As it was past 9pm, her parents were already asleep so it wasn’t a problem of walking in with wet clothes on. We were pretty much silent on the way home. After she changed we ended up sitting, pretty much silent, on the front stoop of her house. I remember thinking about how fast things change. From great great anticipation to disappointment in just a few seconds.

To be continued...