A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164n)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164n)

Our luggage was at the bell hop station, ready to go when we were. I’d kept our carry bag (with the damp panties) with us for our our wet bathing suits. It was around mid morning when we finally got the nerve to actually get wet. The rain the day before had definitely made the water cooler than when we’d been in there earlier in the week. I remember slowly ‘ooching’ our way in. Elle didn’t stay for long but I was determined to get a few laps in. When I gave up and headed for our cabana I saw Elle asleep on one of the chaises. I also saw the door to the adjacent cabana was partially open. Toweling off I could see someone moving around inside. I was curious so kept an eye on the opening. What had been just a shape was soon more clearly defined as the person had moved closer to the door. There was no doubt it was a female as I could see the profile… and as I watched I could see her slipping off her bra. I don’t know why I couldn’t see her panties as she did that but when she turned to put it down I got a nice backside view. The panties were definitely bikinis but I didn’t get to see much of them as she promptly stepped out of them. At that point she was partially hidden by the door but I could see her bare backside appear for a few seconds when she stepped into her bathing suit. It was then that I became concerned about her noticing that I was watching… because my ‘member’ was almost at full attention. I glanced at Elle and luckily she was still asleep.To further protect myself I sat down on another chaise.

The woman, very attractive and probably mid 20’s, then walked out into the sun where I could get a good look at her. My first reaction was that she, because of her age, was probably there on her honeymoon. If that was so I wondered where her husband was. In her one piece bathing suit she struck me as possibly being a model. As such she surely could’ve been wearing that suit for an ad campaign. I was still embarrassed about the condition of my ‘nether region’ so avoided looking directly at her. Watching her out of the corner of my eye I saw her walk past to the pool and thought back to what I’d just witnessed. I was fortunate on two fronts… to see it happening and, probably more important, that Elle had been asleep.

I lay down on the chaise and remember the sun’s rays felt good after having been in the cold water of the pool. I didn’t have anything to read so just watched as the pool area filled up with people. All of a sudden I heard the nickname I’d heard the night before. Looking to my right I saw Jeff, or “Wolfie” as he was called at back school, heading my way. His call out woke Elle and I remember mumbling to her not to talk with him. He was dressed in a suit and tie which made him stand out among the others in the immediate area. He walked up and asked if I’d seen a woman at the adjacent cabana. I didn’t answer but pointed to the pool. He turned and headed that way. I told Elle to get up and to follow me. The refreshment area opened at 11am and, thankfully it was open when we walked up. I don’t remember what we ordered but we stayed there until I saw Jeff headed back towards the main building. Walking back to the cabana I could see the woman in question now drying herself off. Now all I could do was wonder if she was Jeff’s wife or… something else.

Our time at the resort was winding down and I decided to take one last swim in the pool. Elle declined and said she was going to get dressed. As my final act I dove in off the diving board… not really a good idea. Upon surfacing I thought I heard my real name being called and saw a staff person at the edge of the pool. Staff was easy to recognize as they wore coordinated outfits. The women who manned the front desk wore short, pleated black skirts, white blouse with a gold vest. I saw that the woman who’d called to me had a piece of paper in her hand as I swam over to where she was standing. I got to the edge of the pool and was trying to hear what she was saying but had water in my ears. I motioned for her to get closer and she took another step to two. I was looking up at her and did a bit of a double take. The pleats of her skirt made it stand out from her body and in so doing gave me a decent upskirt view of the front of her panties. I couldn’t tell if they were bikinis but they certainly were white. While I was peering at ‘the promised land’ she was talking but I  still was unable to understand what she was talking about. She was waving the piece of paper as she spoke. Finally, somewhat exasperated at not getting through to me she squatted down. That was disappointing as her new position cut off my view. What she was trying to tell me was that the charges I’d just made at the refreshment bar had to be paid at the front desk. Having officially checked out we were no longer allowed to put charges against our room and they were not allowed to take cash. To me it was an annoyance but I understood.

I could try and describe the topography of the pool… but I won’t. Suffice it to say that when the woman went to stand up one of her high heels got caught in the drainage grate that surrounded the pool. My eyes had not yet diverted from her when I saw her stumble backwards. I watched as her backside hit the ground and with it the leg that wasn’t caught went up in the air. It was certainly a nice crotch view for a split second but at the same time she was crying out in pain. I vaulted out of the pool to help her and forgot all about the panty view. In just the few seconds that had passed a number of other guests came rushing over. Conscious, she was complaining about her head. The lifeguard took over and, conscious of the fact that our taxi would soon be there, I headed for our cabana. By the time I was dressed and ready to leave the pool area all the activity had died down and things seemed calm again. We stopped at the front desk to pay the chit and I asked about the woman who’d fallen. We were told she was OK but had been sent home for the day. It was a relief to hear and it freed my mind to think back on the few seconds of panty pleasure I’d experienced.

We both had a sad feeling as the taxi drove out past the entry gate. Bermuda, and especially the hotel, had been a memorable experience. I remember telling Elle that I’d love to come back again some time time in the future. Our driver was a ‘local’, born and raised in Bermuda. He was also a character… and non stop talker. A bit annoying but he did manage to give us some interesting information about Bermuda’s history. One thing for sure… it made the trip to the airport go very quickly. Once there he insisted on carrying both pieces of our luggage to the check in area. I knew he was angling for a bigger tip but didn’t mind. As I was paying him he asked what time our flight left and when I told him 5pm he asked what we were going to do for the next four hours. I told him we wanted to see St. Georges. I remember him taking Elle by the arm escorting both of us back to his taxi and saying he take us… at no charge. Another great Bermuda memory.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164m)

A CHANGE OF PACE…  Bermuda (Part 164m)

Looking at the source of the voice I knew he had to be somebody who’d attended the school while I was there. Now staring at him, no name jumped out at me and I was embarrassed. Another call out from him using the nickname followed. Finally, the guy got up and approached the table. Sticking out his hand he said but one word… “Wolfie…”. Then it came back to me as to just who he was… and an unpleasant memory surfaced. In two years at the school I’d never interacted with the guy in anything… classes, sports, living quarters etc. He was part of what I and my friends called the “elitist eight”. The group all hailed from the Greenwich, Stamford, Darien Connecticut area and, to put it bluntly, thought their s__t didn’t stink. They all came from very rich families and they let everyone around them know it. But Jeff was especially bad. I’d observed his behavior at a ‘meet and greet’ type affair the night before classes started my first year at the school. I watched a kid go up to him, put out his hand and watched as Jeff just turned and walked away. I decided, right then and there, he was someone I didn’t need to be involved with… and managed to pretty much avoid him over the following two years. So, here we were some 13 years later, in Bermuda, and he wanted to be all buddy buddy. Once I realized who he was I did have to give him his due… as the first of the class to make a name for himself. He'd written a book that made the NY Times best seller list. Regardless, I still wanted no part of him.

He asked what I was doing in Bermuda and without having time to warn Elle about him she answered telling him about our anniversary. Even though I didn’t really want to I felt I had to ask him the same question. His answer served to cement his notoriety as he said he was chairing some sort of literary forum with authors from other countries. In giving us his answer the old ‘bravado’ he’d exhibited back at boarding school shone through. I wanted to put the conversation to bed so looked at my watch and made an excuse that we had to get changed to meet some people for dinner. I can’t explain why but just being with him for those few minutes put me in a bad mood. However, that was nothing compared to what it became once we entered our room.

As soon as I opened the door I was greeted with a blast of air. Looking towards the balcony I could see the sheer curtain that hung in front the sliding doors to the balcony blowing somewhat violently into the room. Next, I could see the carpet in front of the open doors was wet and in the form of a semi circle. Lastly, the panties I’d carefully hung out to dry on the chairs on the balcony were missing… at least from where they’d been hung. First things first was a motto my grandfather had drummed into my head as a fairly young boy and the first thing was to close the sliding doors. Immediately, the rain started pounding against them. Looking out and down towards the pool I could barely make out the diving board and the cabana area as it was raining so hard. After observing it for a minute or two I started looking for where the panties might have disappeared to. The wind and rain were blowing straight in towards the building so it was my hope they were still somewhere on the balcony. Trying to see anything clearly with the rain pounding against the glass in the doors was almost impossible. However, I wasn’t about to open the door to go out and look for them.

I’d not really explained to Elle the reasons for my boorish treatment of Jeff just a short time before. After the initial shock of seeing the room in a state of disarray she focused on finding out the story. When I finished she wasn’t totally ‘in tune’ with my thinking about him and let me know about it. I distinctly remember cursing (to myself) the fact that “Wolfie” had turned up in Bermuda. I also remember thinking that this was not the way our time there should end. We’d talked about going to another hotel to see the steel drum band again but with the rain I wasn’t about to go out. Now, with the situation that had arisen between us from my treatment of Jeff I didn’t have a solution as to how to get her back into at least a neutral mood… and didn’t. Dinner was almost silent other than for giving our choices to Andres. Just to say something I asked if she wanted to go to the evening’s entertainment at the hotel and she declined. I don’t remember what it was (I didn’t go either) and we ended up sitting in the lobby watching people come and go for a while. We eventually got word the rain had let up and I asked Elle if she wanted to see the steel drums. All I got was a negative shake of her head. A very bad night!

Since we had to be out of the room by noon I spent most of the rest of the evening packing. I’d located all the panties. The wind had blown them up into a corner. The were sopping wet which presented a bit of a problem. Since most were the heavy ribbed cotton type that Elle wore in her ‘package’ at night I knew they wouldn’t be any where near dry by the time we were to leave. They didn’t provide plastic bags to put your laundry in back in those days which limited me to the vinyl carry bag that I’d used to bring the Polaroid camera and our tennis shoes. Elle had used almost all of the ‘supplies’ she needed for her package so I knew I had some leeway as to space in the luggage. It was obvious that we wouldn’t/couldn’t play tennis in the morning as the courts would still be wet so I wrapped the tennis shoes up in dirty clothes and placed them, along with the Polaroid camera in the large suitcase. That left the carry case empty to hold the damp panties on the trip home. Elle had gone to bed leaving me to complete the packing.

Of all the things we’d wanted to do while on Bermuda the only thing we hadn’t been able to accomplish was the trip to St. Georges. Our flight was at 5pm and we had to be out of our room by noon which gave us a fair amount of time to fill. I hatched a plan that I thought might work that would allow us to get in that visit. The airport was very close to the village so the idea was to take a taxi to the airport, check the bags and then head for St. Georges Of course, it all hinged on Elle’s attitude in the morning.

It was like the previous evening had never occurred. When Elle woke up she was full of vim and vigor asking what we could do to make our last day memorable. I jumped on it with my plan for St. Georges. All for it, she said she wanted to spend some time at the pool after breakfast. Since our bags were mostly packed it was certainly doable. Breakfast was sort of sad because it was the last we’d see of the wait staff assigned to us. I’d packaged their tips in envelopes and when I gave Andres his he pulled a bag out from his station and gave it to me. I had to peek and in it were two more sweet breakfast buns. I wanted to get the bill paid to get it out of the way so stopped at the desk. When I asked about a taxi I was asked what time I wanted it and with that had everything in place. But, I was asked if we could vacate the room any earlier than noon. When I explained why we wanted to wait we were offered a poolside cabana. That was even better. By 9am we were ensconced in it and ready for the pool.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164l)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164l)

Our next stop was a short trip heading North to another wharf where we all left the boat and took a short walk to a small restaurant with outside tables. Not unexpectedly, Elle headed for the rest rooms. Box lunches were distributed and all I’ll say about it was that it provided a little sustenance… and the emphasis in on the word ‘little’. I’d not had much in the way of conversation with Elle after we visited the bridge. When she took her lunch she ignored the group (and me) and stood by one of the tables out in the back making no effort to take a seat. That was a sign, for sure, that she had a ‘problem’. I’d taken a seat and when I saw her standing  back there I got up and joined her. All I heard was “Don’t ask!”  At that time the guide was telling about the now long gone fishing fleet so I just stood and listened, dying to find out how much ‘damage’ there was to her slacks.

Backing this up to the morning when we were dressing for the day, Elle had picked out a pair of white slacks and when I questioned her choice she defended it saying that we’d be on the water which meant there was a chance of it being somewhat cool. I acknowledged that but, trying to be realistic, I reminded her that we had no idea of what we’d have for restrooms and when they’d be available. I suggested a skirt “just to be safe”. All that got me was a wrinkled up look on her face. However, I persisted and told her that if she was going to wear slacks she’d better wear a “package” like she did at night (2 pair of Carters ribbed cotton panties, three sanitary napkins and a pair of plastic panties). With that suggestion all I got was repeated negative shakes of her head. Giving it one last try I offered that she could possibly wear a partial “package” which consisted of two pair of panties along with two sanitary pads and a pair of sanitary panties with a plastic crotch over them. After I suggested it the realization came to me that, in packing, I’d not put any of those type panties in with her ’supplies’. However, she didn’t reject that idea which put me on the ‘spot’. Even though I knew there were no sanitary panties in her things I made like I was searching for them. When I didn’t come up with anything after a minute or two she piped up that she always kept a pair in her pocketbook. The reality of it was that if she had a ‘flood’ she would still be embarrassed. If she ‘dribbled’ or leaked just a bit she’d be protected. In any case something was better than nothing.

After finishing our lunch the guide told us we were free to wander though the village. There wasn’t much to it with but one small market with fresh vegetables displayed out on the street. The few stores that were there were filled with trinkets and souvenirs. While perusing some I had the opportunity to visually inspect Elle’s backside. What I saw I’ve described in other posts as “smiles”. That’s where the leg elastics of the sanitary panties get wet and dampen the slacks where they’re in contact with the pants making sort of a smile. The plastic crotch protects the main body of the pants. It told me that she’d had a fairly substantial leak but not a flood. I was convinced that no one would notice unless they, like me, were looking so chose to keep quiet about it. We’d all been told to report back to the wharf at 1:30pm. On the short boat trip from the bridge I’d seen a long stretch of white beach with any number of Sunfish sailboats and a few catamarans scattered about in front of what looked like cabanas. I asked the guide and he said it was fairly new cottage colony called Lantana. I asked was it possible to walk there and he pointed to a pathway. Once on our way and now free of the other boat trip passengers I was able to find out what had happened to Elle.

Even after being with her for so many years Elle still had trouble freely discussing her ‘accidents’ with me. She said she’d been OK, even when the woman asked about rest rooms on the boat, until she went to get off the boat. She’d opted not to get out and see the bridge when the boat stopped there fearful that she’d have trouble. It was when she had to take the big step from the boat to the dock in Somerset that it happened. She did say she was able to stop after the first “gush” so she felt she still had a chance to make it to the toilets at the restaurant. I remember her turning her head towards me saying the “damage” came after she was in the stall and was trying to get her pants down. I’m smiling as I recount this part because she was actually proud of herself for making it that far. She went on that she had to discard the sanitary pads and hoped she’d make it back to the hotel with no more “incidents”. She did… with ‘damage’ being that the ‘smiles’ widened once she sat back down in the boat. We were last off and I pretty much protected her on the way to the mopeds. It wasn’t even 3pm when we got back to the hotel and we had three hours to kill before dinner hour. I knew what I wanted to do but the question was what did Elle want to do.

Getting changed was the first order of business. I helped Elle get her slacks off and my goal was to keep her from seeing the ’smiles’. Down to her now damp panties I put my hand in her crotch but she batted it away, still upset with her ‘accident’. She went in to the bathroom, washed up and rinsed out the panties. She (we) had been doing it on a daily basis but to get them dry without the housekeepers seeing them I’d hide them in the closet until we’d come back after lunch. Then I’d hang them over the backs and arms of the chairs on our balcony. The nylon panties would usually be dry by the time we were getting ready for bed but the heavy cotton panties she wore at night were very slow to dry. Since this was the first time we’d been in the room since before 8am no panties were outside drying and there were a bunch of them that needed to get dry. So, while she washed up I ‘hung the laundry out to dry’. If someone had walked in on us they would’ve been shocked as I think there were 8 in all. In any case I suggested going to the pool. We’d only been in it once since we arrived and it was still warm out. We got our suits on and headed downstairs. There was a bulletin board that faced the bank of elevators as you exited and was used to announce last minute changes to scheduled events of the day. As soon as I stepped out the door there it was… “POOL CLOSED”. Curious as to why we followed the path to the pool. Once there it seemed like it had gotten much darker than when we left our room. Turning around and looking up to the Northwest I saw this gigantic black cloud. Turning back towards the pool I could see the attendants scurrying about putting down the umbrellas and stacking all the chaises. It was obvious that this was more than a typical Bermuda shower.

We’d not fully explored the whole first floor so, before returning to our room we made the rounds. We found a small library which reminded me of the den at my father’s best friend’s house… dark wood, high ceiling, hanging lamps and built in bookcases. Next to it was what was labeled “Card Room”. Walking in there we found two tables and one was obviously for checkers (or chess). What intrigued me was that all the squares were inlaid into the table surface. There were some large leather chairs over by the window and one was occupied. In looking at the person I had the feeling I’d seen him before. I let it pass and challenged Elle to a game of checkers. The pieces were in a drawer built into the table and they were all carved wood. We had no intention of staying so we played while standing up. Always competitive, I was engrossed in the game and was startled when the person in the chair called out to me using a nickname that had only been used while I was at boarding school.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164k)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164k)

We were excited about the boat trip to Somerset. The isle of Bermuda is actually in the form of a fish hook and the ‘locals’ call Somerset “the West end” although from where our hotel was located it was Northwest. In any case, the boat was to depart from downtown Hamilton at 10am. Included in the trip was some sort of lunch in Somerset Village. One thing I’d read about the place that intrigued me was the worlds smallest draw bridge was supposedly located there. There was a very small picture of part of it in one of the brochures we had picked up. The brochure also told us that at one time in the past the village was recognized for it’s fishing fleet but now it was mostly tourist cottages and beautiful beaches. I felt it was important to visit it just because we were there in Bermuda.

But there was something I wanted to do before we left for the trip. We opted not to play tennis and in place of it we took the stairs down to the water before breakfast. When we left the ocean patio the night before there was still a little visible sand where the beach had been. Upon our arrival at the bottom of the stairs we found there was nothing but water. I’d not intended to go down to the beach the night before and hadn’t brought the camera. In my rush to get there that morning I’d forgotten to bring it so all I had was the memory of what I’d seen… before and after. We were among the first to get there that morning but since we had to eat and get downtown to catch the tour boat we didn’t stay all that long. On our way up we encountered some people who were obviously on their way to the beach. I made a comment to one couple that they wouldn’t need all the ‘gear’ they were carrying as there was no longer a beach. They thought I was kidding. It would’ve been interesting to see their faces when they realized I was telling the truth.

At breakfast the activities director caught up with us. (I wondered a number of times if he ever took any time off) As he greeted us he told us that we should be on our way to the dock where the boat was moored if we wanted a good seat. I knew it only took a short time to get from the hotel to Hamilton so looked at my watch only to find it was almost 9am. He asked where our camera was and when I told him it was in our room he sort of grimaced. He then told us to meet him at the door and ran off. We quickly finished eating and at the door he was there with a small Minolta camera. He handed it to me saying to please take good care of it and sort of shoved us towards the front entrance. I’d not seen a camera like it and had no idea how to operate it but there wasn’t time to ask.

He’d been right about getting to the dock early. It was a wide, open flat bottom boat with, as I remember it, ten rows of seats with an aisle down the middle with glass for the deck (floor). There was room for three people on each seat on each side of the aisle. We were able to get seat on the outside where we could see the scenery but it was in the very last row which made our ability to see where we were headed difficult. Some people focused on getting seats that were adjacent to the aisle as they had the best view of the glass that allowed the view of the harbor bottom. There were a few late-comers who were upset with what seats were available but Elle was happy as she could look right over the side. While the last of the passengers were getting seated I took a look at the camera. It had all kinds of buttons and levers and I was happy to be able to determine which button to push to take a picture. A man just across from me saw me struggling and offered to give me a pointer or two. Every camera I’d ever used was ‘point and shoot’ but this one had a gizmo where you could actually get closeups (of sorts) as there were three lens choices. I experimented by taking some of the Hamilton waterfront while using all three. When I went to sit down I was greeted with a very pleasant surprise… the lady right in front of Elle was displaying a very nice DP (down pants). I still had the camera in my hand but Elle was right there so I knew I had to be careful. I pretended to be fiddling with the levers on the camera and, to make a point of my concentration on the camera to Elle, was mumbling some sort of complaint on why they had to have so many.  I sat down for a few seconds and then made a bold move by taking a picture of the back side of the lady but knew I hadn’t gotten very much panty as she’d turned sideways. I then stood up and continued to ‘fiddle’ with the camera and then glanced down to see pretty much the same scene that had garnered my attention in the first place. I casually pointed the camera down and took three quick pictures hoping that at least one would turn out OK. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I’d gotten spoiled with the Polaroid camera where I could see the results after a little over a minute. But, with this camera I’d have to wait to have the film developed to know.

Note the water on the right

This helped make my day

Before we got under way one of the women asked where the rest rooms were. I’d not given it any thought but a quick look around made it clear there weren’t any. There was no superstructure that would house such a thing. That made me look at Elle and made me think back to the last time she’d used a toilet. I didn’t say anything to her though and she didn’t discuss it with me. All I could do was hope she’d be OK until we arrived at our destination.

Once we got under way I got a good look at the woman in front of Elle. A little older than us she was definitely attractive. She was with an older woman who I surmised to be her mother. The boat made its way across the harbor and into the main body of water known as Great Sound. We made our way through and around a number of small coral islands (some with names and some without) which gave those with views of the harbor bottom through the glass on the bottom of the boat some interesting things to see. (I got a few peeks) We had a guide who gave us some history on the various geographic points we passed while under way. Our first stop was the wharf at the Somerset Bridge, exactly where I wanted to be. Those who were interested disembarked for picture taking. The term ‘drawbridge’ is a bit misleading. It’s only 32 inches wide and meant to be opened only when a sailboat wanted to pass through, not very often we were told. I was hoping it would happen but our guide said it was now a rare occurrence. He told us there was a bridge keeper and when it had to be raised he would go out and lift up all the wooden planks that made up the bridge. I won’t say I was disappointed but I’m glad I saw it in person.

Wierd, to say the least

These boards had to be pulled up by hand

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164j)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164j)

That evening’s scheduled entertainment was a ‘Big Band” concert with music in the old Glen Miller style. I grew up listening to his music on 78rpm records as my parents were really into jazz and big bands. While in college there was a touring group who played his arrangements and they were pretty good so I was looking forward to the show. Wanting a good seat I wanted to get there early but with only one full day left on our trip I also wanted to get down to the hotel beach after we ate. At dinner I’d heard some people at the table next to us talking about some sort of phenomenon that took place each September along the South shore of the island. All the sand would wash away from the shore and build up to make a sand bar about 100 yards offshore. Then, in the Spring, it would all wash back and recreate the beach. I’d gathered that the process had started and wanted to witness it while I could. We had an hour to kill before the doors opened so I persuaded Elle to go. We’d timed how long it took to go down the 151 steps and then back to the top. Down, it took less than ten minutes if we didn’t stop at the two landing areas but coming back took more because our legs couldn’t take it. I quickly figured that gave us roughly a half hour to actually witness it. When we reached the patio area at the bottom of the stairs we found a whole bunch of people there observing the beach disappearing, wave by wave. It was really something to see nature at work.

Now, one thing we hadn’t given any thought to was the possibility that Elle might need toilet… at least I hadn’t. We were dressed and ready for the 6pm seating for dinner around 5:30pm and had gone down to the lobby to take a look at some of newspapers from the mainland. I’d discovered that every afternoon about six papers, all from major cities, would be available at the lobby desk. After glancing through the Wall Street Journal to catch up on our stocks we went in to eat. Upon leaving we'd headed right for the stairs to the beach. With each incoming wave a little more sand was scoured away. The waves sort of rolled in, not ‘crashing’ like you see in many pictures, and made a ‘whooshing’ sound as they rolled past where we were standing. Elle and I were holding hands about ten feet from the edge of the patio when I felt her squeeze my hand. I looked at her and the look on her face told me what her problem was. I looked over my shoulder and saw the beach concession had closed knew it was a BIG problem for her as it was closed. By that time most of the people we’d seen there upon our arrival had left. I gently pulled Elle towards the edge where some water had made it’s way up onto the patio. I whispered to her that it was probably best to spread her legs a bit and just let it go and I’d stand between her and the few people who were left. I wanted to watch her puddle grow but didn’t dare. It didn’t take long for her to tap me on the shoulder to let me know she’d finished. As I turned to look at her I took a  quick glance at the concrete and was happy to see that more sea water had splashed up and there was no discernible puddle. The question was did any falling pee get into her skirt. It was getting dark and the remaining people had started their climb to the top so we had a few minutes alone. I asked her what had happened. I’d checked my watch and she was within her usual 2 1/2 to 3 hour’ window so was bit puzzled. Her answer was that she’d had too much water to drink in a short period of time.

As I said, I’d wanted to get to the entertainment early to get a good viewing place and it was already after 8pm, the time the doors opened. Elle proceeded me to the stairs and I, quite boldly, put my hand up under the hem of her skirt and found her panties (2) to be really wet. That would mean a trip back to the room and that we’d be late for the show. I wasn’t mad at Elle by any means but wasn’t happy with the situation either. When we reached the top I asked Elle (and I still can’t believe I did) if she’d go back to the room to get washed up and change her panties alone so I could get us a decent place to sit. If she’d had a baseball bat I’m sure she would’ve hit me in the head with it. Before she said anything the recreation director walked by. He had a big smile, as always, and then said he remembered we were celebrating an anniversary and asked which one. I told him it was our 10th and as soon as he heard it he grabbed Elle’s hand and started pulling her towards the main building. I can’t recall Elle making a big protest but she did make an attempt. I was almost left behind as the two of them hastily headed for the entryway. Inside, he led us to an area right outside the room where the event was to take place and motioned for us to step in front of an ugly looking drape. Almost on cue, a photographer appeared.

 
We were then led to a table that can only be described as ‘front and center’. Elle told me later she felt embarrassed and not because her panties were wet but of the attention that we were getting. For me, my concern was Elle. I’d been unable to see any evidence of any pee being on her dress from her ‘accident’ but now she was going to have to sit down. I remember praying that this was the end of the attention that we’d been getting. Four other couples were seated with us and all were there for their 10th anniversary. We chatted for a few minutes before, thankfully, the music began.

We were encouraged to get up and dance but I ’took the heat’ and claimed an injury. To my (our) good fortune, it was the guy leading the band who’d called on us to dance and not the recreation director who knew I was just fine. We escaped that ‘bullet’ but the next one was when it was time to leave. Elle had been in deep conversation with the lady seated next to her and it continued as the others around the table departed. Being down in front gave us some latitude as the people seated behind us had to exit first. I deftly maneuvered myself to be right behind Elle as she stood up. I also encouraged the other couple to lead the way so we were, for all intents and purposes, the last to leave.

In the elevator Elle started to laugh. I couldn’t imagine why and when I asked her answer made me laugh… “I can’t believe I just sat there for two hours in wet pants.” I couldn’t either but the reality of it was she didn’t have a choice. Back in the room I told her I was proud of her for not making a fuss when the activities director grabbed her hand. She made a ’face’ but then smiled. We inspected her dress and that was definitely a problem. We found the yellow stain wouldn’t wash completely out with plain water. It was one of her favorite ‘dressy’ dresses. I suggested that if cleaned professionally it might come out and, worst case, she might have to have it dyed. It wasn’t the way I wanted to end the day but, all in all, we had made some good memories. We had one more full day to make more and the glass bottom boat ride we’d won was sure to be a good one.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164i cont.)

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda Part 164i cont.

The reason for her calling to me was she felt she’d had enough sun. She wanted me to bring her her clothes over to where she was on the towels. I brought the carry bag over to where she was and as she went through the bag she asked where her bra was. I’d not had anything to do with her clothes other than to lay out her panties and reminded her of that fact. The top (bra) to her bathing suit was right there beside her and when she picked it up found it was all sandy and damp. Still thinking I had something to do with the ‘missing’ bra she gave me one of her ‘looks’ and asked what she should do. To me, the only choice was to go braless. The top she’d worn was sleeveless and was quite sheer… one of my favorites... so I was looking forward to seeing the results when she put it on. As for her panties, the ones she had on had dried enough to not be a problem for her. She slipped on the Bermuda shorts she’d worn over her bathing suit on our trip there and I liked what I saw and told her so. She knew exactly what I was referring to and had a disapproving look on her face as we finished picking up our things.

It was a lot harder climbing back to the top than it was on the way down. Getting to the mopeds she decided she didn't want to continue with our planned excursion. Hearing that didn’t make me very happy. I knew the reason why and I also knew it was my own fault for having made the comment when seeing her in the sheer blouse. When I was loading our gear into the moped baskets I saw something in the bottom of hers. I reached in and found it was her light jacket. I asked her about it and, after making a comment along the lines of “Oh… I wondered where it was…” she explained that after being caught in the rain shower the other day she decided to bring it along the next time we went out. As soon as she saw it she reached for it and put it on. I asked if she was willing to continue on and her smile was her answer.

As I mentioned earlier, my primary interest in travelling further to the South was in seeing the hotel I’d originally picked for our stay. Once there and after walking around the place I knew Gertrude had been right. It was newer, and it was bigger, and it was more glamorous BUT… it didn’t take long to figure out that in comparison it didn’t have that ‘homey’ feeling. In retrospect, we decided it was cold and impersonal and we couldn’t wait to get back to our hotel. On our way out I had Elle stop so I could get a picture of the place to keep as a reminder of how lucky we were to be at the hotel we were staying.
   

As to her hair... don't ask...

       To be continued

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164i)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164i)

Showing Elle the picture didn’t fully satisfy her concerns but I pointed out that if we moved up the beach to the space closest to the the high coral no one would be able to see us. We moved the towels to that area and then lay down to catch some sun before eating our lunches. I’d brought my mother’s small Kodak camera to use when it would be difficult to use the Polaroid one. Elle, never really comfortable with me taking panty pictures, had made one rule… no “sexy” (her words) pictures since the film had to be developed by others. Elle was lying there with her eyes closed so I pulled the camera out and took a picture of her… nothing special… and then took some of the surrounding coral formations (and I won’t bore you with them).

 I’d put the camera back in the bag by the time she awoke and we then concentrated on our box lunches. I’d ordered a roast beef sandwich and I’ll bet it had at least 1/4 pound of meat in it. After finishing we explored the possibility of swimming. One thing we’d been told was to watch out for hidden coral in the sand, especially when in the water. It had been suggested that we buy beach shoes for walking especially out in the water. But… we hadn’t. I offered to walk out and ‘test’ the area and with the water about waist high I called for Elle to join me. Being September and the water shallow, it was warm. I’d squatted down so the water was up to my shoulders. When Elle reached me I had her sit on my lap… and then things got very ‘interesting’.

The Summer I was sent off to boarding school there was a popular movie called From Here to Eternity. Even though I was sixteen my mother had forbidden me to see it saying it was “too violent”. But, some of my friends had managed to see it and told of this very sexy beach scene. I was bound and determined to see it in spite of my mother. When the six week session was over I had to take a train to get back home. I had to change trains in the city and had a lay-over of about three hours. I went exploring and found a movie theater that was showing the movie. The scene with Bert Lancaster and Deborah Kerr on the beach was, at that period of time, quite risqué and I just ‘ate it up’. From that time on I’d fancied myself making love on a beach with waves washing over me. There weren’t any waves but with Elle on my lap and that on my mind I was ready to try it. She wasn’t… but she was, for her (and being outside), quite 'turned on' and she let me “play” inside her bathing suit and panties for quite a while. When I started to peel them off she didn’t resist… which was a big surprise.

It wasn’t the same as if we’d been on the beach (no sand in inappropriate places) but we both ended up being satisfied. Elle wouldn’t get out of the water without at least her panties on. It was a struggle to get them on and up. Actually, it was pretty funny. Once back on the beach we moved the towels further up the beach to help allay Elle’s concerns about privacy. We talked about how long we’d stay there and decided that we’d lie in the sun to dry off. I wasn’t being serious when I suggested that she take the top to her bathing suit off and when she sat up and slipped it up over her head I wondered just who I was with. Was this really my wife? I stood there in amazement and watched as she lay back down.

I joined her for a while but when I saw the tide was rising I got up to move the things we’d brought for our picnic. While doing it I saw the little camera. Picking it up my conscience was awakened. I’d told Elle that I wouldn’t ask (plead) to take panty pictures on this trip and I hadn’t… but I hadn’t said I wouldn’t take any. It was semantics but when I saw her lying on her back with her legs spread I kicked my conscience in the head. Remember that I said I’d put out the new panties we’d bought right after we arrived for Elle to wear. I hadn’t paid much attention to them until I saw her lying there. Fancy panties for sure with lace inserts at the leg openings. I snapped the picture and promptly hid the camera. One thing I remember from that was that I was spoiled by the instant gratification of a Polaroid picture. A few minutes later she rolled over onto her stomach and as soon as I determined she was asleep I pulled out the camera again. Getting up close to her my thought was that somehow she’d actually changed panties. The size of the crotch was as large as on VanRaalte panties. I snapped the picture and as I was hiding the camera I heard her call me. I thought I’d been caught… but, as you can see, I hadn’t.

Note the Fancy Panties

These were the "Bermuda" panties... very similar to VanRaalte

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164h)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164h)

Our time in Bermuda was flying by and there were a lot of things we still wanted to do. We now had to fit in the boat trip we’d won but high on my priority list was the picnic (of sorts) at the hidden beach that I’d discovered. A visit to St. Georges had been another place to see but we were running out of time. Our flight home was at around 5pm on Sunday but we had to be out of the room before noon. Lying in bed that night I came up with the idea of seeing St. Georges on Sunday before we left using the time between the two. Since the airport wasn’t far from there I thought we’d take a taxi to the airport, check our bags and then go on to see the sights in the village. We also wanted to try tennis once more and in anticipation of it, laid out our tennis clothes before going to bed. Figuring on an hour for tennis and an hour for breakfast I thought we could be on our way to the hidden beach by 10am at the latest.

Waking up to cloudy skies was a disappointment. Naturally, we wanted it to be a sunny day for the picnic but there was little we could do about the weather. Arriving at the courts even earlier than the previous day it was a surprise to see most of them occupied. I remember thinking that theses people might’ve camped out there overnight just to be sure they got to play. The court with the backboard was the only one available so we headed for it. Most of the players we saw were men but on the one next to where we’d be playing were two women. One caught my attention right away as she was bending over at the waist and picking up balls at there net. Frilly, lacy, tennis panties were in vogue at the time but she wasn’t wearing a pair of them. To my somewhat trained eye she had on just a regular pair of white panties. I knew right away that I’d be keeping my eyes peeled for more peeks like that as Elle and I attempted to play.

The courts were classified as being ‘clay’ although they weren’t. The surface was called Har-Tru, a clay like base with small granules on the surface. The idea was to make it easier on the players knees and legs. Having only played on hard surfaced courts it had taken me a while the morning before to get used to the slipperiness when you, while running, tried to stop. I’d almost fallen during the short time we’d been at it when I heard a muffled cry from the adjacent court. Looking over I could see one of the women on the ground with one leg under the net. She was on her side with the other leg and her body scrunched up and pressed into the net. As I ran up to help I couldn’t see much of her panties from the way she was lying. I asked if she was in pain and she said it wasn’t bad but she was going to need help to get extracted from the net. She was in no position to help herself and to me, the first thing was to get her body off the net so she could straighten out the one leg. It was almost like deja-vu from the previous morning when I put my hands under her armpits to drag her back and up to a sitting position. The problem then was the other leg which was still wedged under the net. She was trying to pull that leg out from under it but her foot, now pointing straight up, was preventing her from being successful. The only way it was going to work was for her to lay back over on her side so the length of her foot was parallel to the ground. When instructing her to do so I was squatting by her right side. When she turned to do it I was no more that two feet from her backside. The ‘view’ was fantastic… and lasted for what seemed like a long time but was probably no more than 15 seconds. Once her foot was extracted she sat up and proceeded to thank me profusely. Modesty at that time for her was probably the least of her concerns. I was standing sort of over her by then and as she thrust her hand up reaching for mine to pull her up I got a full on view of her crotch. She then explained that she had run forward towards the net to get to the ball that the other woman had hit just over the net and when she attempted to stop her feet went out from under her. I don’t remember much else of what she said as people from the court on the other side had come over to see what was happening. When Elle and I returned to our court Elle let me know she’d witnessed my “ogling” (her word) the “private area” of the woman and sort of scolded me for it. I didn’t care. It was now firmly ensconced in my memory bank. Elle and I ‘played’ (a generous description) for about 45 minutes. In leaving the area we found the photographer headed in our direction. He offered to take a picture of us and… he did.
 

At least I tried...
We’d found out the day before that tennis attire was perfectly OK for the dining area at breakfast and lunch. The ‘formal’ attire was only required at dinner so we went right from the courts to the dining area. Andres delivered sweet breakfast rolls to the table within minutes of our arrival. I spoke to him about box lunches and, again, within minutes they were delivered. By the time we headed for our room the sun had appeared and I started to get excited. We had pretty much pre=planned our needs and had a couple of towels to lie on for the beach and, if we swam, to use to dry off already stuffed into the carry bag. It was the same bag I’d used to bring our tennis sneakers and Polaroid camera from home. When changing and getting dressed to leave Elle noticed I’d put out the bathing suit that didn’t have panties attached. It was the one she’d wear when we were on one of our sailing excursions without the kids and my favorite. She wasn’t too pleased when she saw it but I reminded her that we’d be all alone on a ‘private’ beach. She backed down but said she’d have to be convinced about the privacy after we arrived. She’d not worn the new panties we purchased on the day of our arrival and I thought it would be a good time to ‘christen’ them. I laid them both out but she only put on one. Not wanting to make a ‘thing’ about it after having gotten her to wear the bathing suit, I kept my mouth closed. Just before leaving the room I suggested that we wear every day clothes to our destination so that if we chose to leave the beach early we could still do some exploring to the Southerly part of the island. In the back of my mind I really wanted to see the hotel I’d originally picked out but had been told by Gertrude (our travel agent) “it wasn’t for us”. It was about mid morning when we departed.

Arriving at the place, I wanted to make sure the mopeds were somewhat hidden so as not to draw any attention to the fact that someone might be there. By the time we made our way to the beach and got settled it was approaching mid-day and the sun was right overhead. We slipped off the shorts we’d worn over our bathing suits and lay the towels out on the beach. Elle was still concerned about just how much privacy we had. I’d taken the Polaroid camera out of the bag and as soon as she saw it I was hit with the admonition… “Don’t ask!”. To allay her fears about privacy I offered to go back up to the top and shoot a picture so she could asses the situation herself. She agreed and I headed back up to the field above us. The view was fantastic and I snapped the picture only to discover it was the last of the Polaroid film.

To be continued…

   

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164g)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164g)

There was no doubt about it. Once I agreed to go back to the store Elle knew she ‘had’ me. It was a pair of shorts… not Bermudas and not short shorts but shorts. Seeing them on her I had to agree that they were not a typical type for her. Light pink and pale blue and definitely different than any shorts I’d ever seen. When looking at them from the front one half was pink and one half was blue. Then, the back was the same but the colors were reversed. I asked the price and I’m sure I showed shock upon hearing it but that was when my mind went back to the ‘plan’ I’d come up with. I kept it to myself but knew I’d banked some definite ‘points’ by agreeing to let her get them.

She’d decided to wear them for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until we were about to get back on our mopeds that I realized that the fit was a bit snug across her bottom. When she bent over to put her bag in the bike’s basket I saw Avery prominent VPL which helped to temper the cost of them a bit. It was early in the afternoon and we’d decided to explore around the other side of the harbor. We had a map that highlighted some of the small parks that dotted the area. We found some interesting places on our travels and filled most of the afternoon.
     

Hamilton on the far shore (Note the shorts)

One of the things we’d been told at the welcoming reception was to frequently check our room box at the front desk. After dropping off our mopeds at the “pen” we made a special trip to the lobby. I couldn’t think of anyone who’d leave a message but made the effort anyway. Much to our joint surprise there was something in our box. It was from the activities director and was an invitation to be a part of the evening’s entertainment. That was to be our ‘reward’ for when he’d asked us to leave the tennis court that morning. The details were somewhat lacking but we would be contestants in some sort of game and there would be prizes. We were told to be at the site a half hour before the show to get a briefing as to what to expect. Now, my immediate reaction was to say “No”. I’ve never really been comfortable in situations where I’m in front of people with a chance to embarrass myself but Elle was all for it. Walking to our room I told her I was willing to listen to what it was all about.

We spent the time before dinner sitting on our balcony enjoying the view. Just a little offshore  we could see a few clouds and, after studying them a few minutes determined that it was raining underneath them. The pool guy was right again. “You’re in Bermuda… expect it.” I found it somewhat interesting in that I’d not knowingly seen that any place but there. While concentrating on the clouds and the rain I hadn’t noticed Elle leave the balcony. When, all of a sudden, I found her right in front of me. She was in just her bra and panties… and they were wet… and she had a big smile on her face. She motioned for me to get up from the chair and to move over to a small table. I did and then she put her hands on my shoulders and started pushing me down. I complied and sat on the table with her following ending up straddling my legs. With her wet pantied crotch nestled up to my very engorged penis she proceeded to ‘grind’ against it. This was a complete surprise to me and yet, while enjoying the surprise attention, had to wonder what prompted it. As much as I would’ve liked to pursued it to a satisfactory end Elle informed me we had to get washed up and dressed or we’d miss our dinner seating. As she got up I attempted to persuade her of at least a “quickie” but it was no use. I had to be satisfied with what I got and, in truth, I was happy that she’d taken the initiative.

We had capon for dinner, another ‘first’ for us. We were surely getting lessons in “fine dining”. Finishing up, Elle reminded me not to expect more of the same when we returned home. Rose, the lady we’d joined on the tennis court that morning saw us leaving the dining hall and came over to ask if we were participating in the show that night. She went on that she was part of it and looked forward to seeing us there. She added that the prizes that the hotel awarded were really nice. I hadn’t made up my mind but as she walked away she called “see you there”. With that comment I knew Elle was ‘hooked’.

At 8pm we reported to the lounge where the show was to take place. The activities director was there with a group of what we assumed were other hotel guests. It wasn’t hard to notice that Rose was there as her outfit was close to being garish. We were told that one of the most popular events each week was when they played their version of The Newlywed Game, a show seen on TV. As soon as I heard that I knew I wanted no part of it. However, the guy was prepared for people like me and proceeded to show us the gifts all participants would receive… win or lose. The women would be getting a sterling silver pin in the shape of Bermuda and the men a sterling silver money clip. I didn’t need (or want) one but Elle wasn’t to be denied. We’d seen the Dating Game on TV a few times and got some laughs out of it but hadn’t seen this one. All I could see was problems ahead based upon what I remembered from seeing the show.

Of the six couples who were there three accepted the challenge. I wondered where Rose had disappeared to as the rules were explained. The men were then separated from the ladies and we were given a series of questions to answer. The show started with the activities director explaining what was to happen and then all the participants, men and women, were paraded out. Then Rose was introduced as the Master of Ceremonies. That was a complete surprise. It started with the women being asked to give the answers they thought their husbands had given. Actually, it was pretty funny and Elle got more right than the other two women. When it was the turn for the men to give the answers they thought their wives had given I felt pretty confident… and was right as I came out with the best score. The prize for winning was a trip on a glass bottom boat from Hamilton to Somerset at the tip end of the island, including lunch. I planned on riding our mopeds out there but this was much better. After the show the activities director wanted to get a picture of us with Rose. It seemed like there was always a photographer around. As we headed for our room I looked back on the day and almost couldn’t believe it.
 

Rose with the activities director and us

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164f)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164f)

Tennis was the first thing on our agenda for Thursday. Every time we walked into our room the tennis rackets were there to greet us. I’d lugged them through two airports because Elle had wanted them so wasn’t going let it be for nothing. I know it was early when we got to the courts but found all being used. However, one had a wooden backboard and there was but one woman hitting balls against it. With her there we couldn’t play and were about to leave when she called us over and introduced herself as Rose. About our age, she seemed quite pleasant. She asked us if we’d like to play Canadian doubles. We had no idea what that was but looked at each other and decided “Why not?”

Basically, two people play on one side of the net using the lines on the court for “doubles” (two people) and the other player is on the other side of the net and uses the singles (one player) lines. She took the time to explain it and we started in. Two against one sounds unfair but the rules make it somewhat even. She was a good, not great, player and had no trouble beating us. I don’t remember how long we played before the activities director showed up to say the court was needed for lessons. He was all apologies and said he’d make it up to us. He didn’t say how but was really sincere so the three of us left together. On our way back into the hotel we talked about what our ‘reward’ might be. Rose said she had some sort of appointment and we parted.

We went back to our room to change clothes before eating breakfast. When we showed up Andres had breakfast buns waiting for me. I really liked him and the service we got. Our “To do” list had a visit to St. Georges on one end of the island and to Somerset on the opposite end. Now comfortable on the moped, Elle picked the trip to St. Georges and in so doing made a comment that we might be able to stop in the city of Hamilton on our way back. We opted not to take a box lunch hoping to find some local fare along the way. We were on our way around 10am. The weather was perfect with bright sunshine and little wind. There was little traffic as we headed North. Bermuda’s roads are known for their ‘round abouts” (traffic circles) and not too far was a major one. It was the one that takes you towards Hamilton. As we approached I felt rain hitting me in the face. I didn’t believe it because I saw nothing but sunshine… and then I remembered the first day we were there and what a pool attendant had said when a rain shower hit… “You’re in Bermuda… expect it…” I also remembered what we’d been told when getting our instructions on the mopeds… “If it starts to rain, stop.”.

I pulled off the road just as I entered the circle and Elle stopped right behind me. I looked up and saw two big white clouds and that had to be the source of the rain. I didn’t appreciate standing there getting wet but knew it was the only choice we had. I looked ahead, past the round-about, and saw this fast approaching moped just about to turn into the circle. I watched as it started to bear to the right as it sped towards us… and then saw the bike quickly fall over and as it did it slid off the road leaving the rider in a heap. There was nothing coming close behind the fallen rider so I ran out to see if I could help. Approaching, I could see it was a fairly young woman. She was motionless and on her side with her right leg folded awkwardly under her. I went around her to help her get up and out of the road and as I did I could see she was wearing a pair of lavender colored panties. But panties were the least of my concerns as I reached down to give her my hand. Her eyes were wide open but she didn’t respond when I asked her if she could move. I looked up and over her, back down the road leading into the circle and saw a small truck approaching. Now I was in panic mode. I didn’t hesitate as I reached down and put my hands in her armpits and started dragging her off to the side. It was all adrenaline. When I got her to the curb I could see she was crying. I could also see that she no longer was wearing the skirt she had on when I went to her aid. It was still out in the road. Elle was right there beside me and asking where she hurt. She held up her right hand and I could see blood running down her forearm. A couple of men ran up and one stated that it looked like her wrist was broken and sort of pushed me aside. Elle had gone out into the road to retrieve her skirt and as I stood there looking at woman I could see her right leg had road scrapes from her hip to her ankle. That was when I took a few seconds to look at her panties. As I said they were lavender and were definitely full briefs. Elle pushed her way past the two men and draped the remains of the skirt over her as best she could.

I don’t know how the police found about it but it wasn’t long before they were there. It had stopped raining and I found myself looking at my watch. The road was almost dry by then and I was anxious to move on but as soon as I got on my moped one of the policemen (bobby’s) asked if I’d seen what happened. I told him I did and explained what I’d seen. He took it all down and as he was about to leave he commented that this was typical with rain showers. I asked him why and he told me it was a combination of things but primarily from the small tires on the mopeds, oil on the road and too much speed. He took the time to basically show me with my bike that when the woman had made the turn the tires lost traction with the road and centrifugal force took over. He pointed to the woman’s disabled moped on the side of the road about 25 to 30 feet away. It was visual proof that our instructor had been right about stopping when it rained. After the policeman (bobby) walked away I asked Elle if she knew how the woman had lost her skirt. She said that as soon as I started dragging her it came out from under her. She added that when she picked it up the waistband was ripped. It made sense to me what with her sliding on the road for a few feet.

Obviously shaken from what she’d just witnessed Elle said she wasn’t up to making such the long trip to St. Georges and suggested that we go into Hamilton. According to the the road sign posted right there it was 1 kilometer away. I had no idea what that was in miles but remembered from our taxi ride from the airport that it hadn’t taken all the long after we’d gone around this circle. So, it was another change in plans. The trip took but minutes and we made a slow tour of the city on the bikes including the back part where the locals shopped. But Elle wanted to go into the main stores just to look around. I knew that could/would be dangerous but agreed. We found a place to park the mopeds and started our trek through the stores. We ended up eating lunch at a small street cafe across from where the cruise ship was docked. It was interesting watching the people coming and going from the ship. Elle had been ‘good’ while perusing the shops and not asked for anything. But… as we paid the tab for lunch she casually mentioned that she wanted to go back to the Harrod’s store to show me a pair of shorts. I knew what that meant and while walking there I was formulating a plan for the future.

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164e)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164e)

After changing we headed for the “pen”, what they called the area where the mopeds were garaged. We had to go through a training session before we could leave and go out on the roads. It was simple stuff and when we were allowed to put the bikes in gear I thought Elle was going to crash, for sure. The accelerator was at one end of the handle bar and when she turned it she went too far. When the bike started to go forward she almost fell off. In looking back, it was funny… but not at the time. The guy who was instructing us thought he had a casualty but she got control and was able to stop before hitting anything. It was enough of a scare for her to not want to go on but the guy went over the whole thing again with her. I was able to convince her she’d be OK after changing our original plans so that we’d head in a Southerly direction where there wouldn’t be as much traffic. It turned out to be the thing to do as it meant we’d turn left upon leaving the complex and we’d not have to cross oncoming traffic. We’d spent way longer than I’d planned but it did put us in the right direction to find the overlooks that I’d asked about. When searching for them I’d been told to look for a what appeared to be a grassy meadow to our left as we headed South. After finding it we were told to look for what appeared to be narrow paths and to follow them but… to go slowly and to be careful of rocks that were really black coral. Hitting one with too much speed could blow a tire or, worse, cause us to lose control and… crash. I, leading, was trying to find one of the little paths that led to where we could see water. I was about to give up and stopped. I don’t know the reason but I decided to leave the bike and pathway and just headed across the grass on foot. It only took me couple of minutes to find what I was looking for… the ocean. I called for Elle to come on out to get a look. It was spectacular seeing the waves splashing up on what looked like craggy rocks (really coral). My guess is that we were about 60 to 70 feet up from the ocean where we were. I decided to walk further South and down a small hill. It was quite a discovery. I was able to walk out on a small coral profusion and from there I could look down and see a small beach to the North. My first reaction was to want to get down to it. I retraced my way back to Elle and then headed North looking for any hint of access to the water. We spent at least a half hour before I found what could loosely be described as a path that headed downward. It was fairly steep and Elle wanted no part of it. I went down to the point I was confident that I could not only get to the beach but, more important, be able to get back up.

At that point I looked at my watch and was shocked to see that from the time we left our room almost three hours had passed. Our original plan was to head to the Northerly end of the island, possibly making it as far as St. Georges, one of the three largest centers on the island. Elle was wearing a pair of pink check Bermuda shorts (what else?) and when I got back to her she was leaning against her bike with a look of disgust on her face. A quick glance at her crotch area told me why. I asked why she hadn’t at least pulled her shorts down. She pointed to the button at her waist. That didn’t make any sense to me but she didn’t waste anytime before complaining that she couldn’t get the button to go through to hole. I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling. But she was also quick to add that she’d started sneezing and couldn’t stop. She pointed to the flowers throughout the field that we’d just gone through. I didn’t recognize them but knew they weren’t ragweed, a plant we both had a reaction to. I made an attempt to feel the wetness of her shorts but she just turned away. She was upset about it because the shorts were new for the trip.

After a minute or two I explained to her that I’d found a way to the beach and how it would be a great place to have a private picnic. I knew from reading the materials at the hotel that we could request box lunches. I had to do a bit of a ‘sell’ job but by the time we decided to head back she was ‘on board’ with it. Climbing back on the moped she was concerned about her wetness showing but, as it turned out, the pink checks covered it up pretty well. She didn’t believe me but since she didn’t have any other choice she got on the bike and we headed back with her in the lead. It was obvious that she’d pretty much mastered the controls and we ended up traveling ‘at speed’ most of the way back.

After leaving the bikes at the “pen” we made our way to the hotel. Elle was still concerned about the wetness showing and wanted me to find an alternate entrance. We walked around though one of the gardens and I saw the activities director headed for the building. I called out to him and he answered us by name. I remember standing there in amazement. Here we’d only been there for 24 hours and he knew who we were. By the time we caught up to him I could see that he’d been headed for a side door. It definitely wasn’t one for the guests so I asked if we could get in that way. He told us to follow him and as we did I watched him use a key to open the door. He pointed the way to the elevators and just before he turned to go in the opposite direction he told us he knew we were celebrating our 10th anniversary. He went on to say that he’d set aside a table for us for that night’s entertainment, the steel drum band. Now I was really impressed with him.

In the elevator I asked Elle if she’d been embarrassed while we were talking with the guy. She sort of laughed and said she was so ’taken’ with the guy know our names she’d forgotten about being wet. Back in our room she took off the shorts and washed them out as best she could not wanting them to get stained. That left her in just her panties and top and I made that quickly disappear. She headed out to the balcony so she could hang the shorts to dry outside. As I watched her I wished I could have a picture of her that way, with the ocean as a background… but…

When it was time for the entertainment, as promised, we were escorted to a front row table just off to the left of the stage for the steel band performance. We were also treated to champagne and something called truffles to munch on. I didn’t much like them but when it came to the steel band, they were fantastic. When the show was over a lot of the guests headed for the bar but with neither of us into that scene we started back to our room. We got off the elevator and headed towards our room and we saw this woman dressed in what looked like a shortie nightie standing in front of a room door, knocking on it. We stopped before she saw us, looked at each other and smiled as the door opened and she disappeared inside. I honestly don’t think she saw us but as we passed by the door we did laugh… out loud.

Getting ready for bed we talked about what we’d just seen surmising how that had all come about. Somehow we ended up coming up with the idea for Elle to go outside our door in her nightie and for me to take a picture. It wasn’t exactly the type of picture I really wanted but Elle thought it would be cute for our trip album. You decide…
       

To be continued...

A short hiatus (I hope)

A short hiatus (I hope)

One of our daughters (Anne) changed jobs and moved to be closer to us (30 minutes) two and 1/2 years ago. She bought a converted Summer bungalow to be near the water. She had no problems the first two Winters but, then again, we didn't have eight straight days where the temperature stayed below freezing with a few days down in single digits at night. The result... a frozen pipe... and a big mess when it thawed yesterday. Elle and I've been helping clean up the mess and I've been sort of a 'project manager' with overseeing the repairs. I've not had any time for the computer and probably won't until the weekend, sooo..., 'til then...

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164d)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164d)

Waking up the next morning I was completely ‘lost’. Coming out of a deep sleep I was totally disoriented. The brightness of the room was the first ‘clue’ because, even though our bedroom at home faced to the South, it was always dark even in bright sunshine as there was a huge maple tree right there to block the light. Sitting upright, I looked around and could see what appeared to be a wall of light. After a couple of blinks of my eyes I could see there was a sheer curtain blowing back and forth in front of wide doorway. Then it came to me… we’re in Bermuda! A quick scan around the room looking for Elle only showed the chaos we’d made when we returned to the room the night before. I’d unpacked one of the suitcases so Elle could pick out what she wanted to wear for our first nighter and we’d gone off and left it all on the bed. Returning into the room with but one thing on our minds we didn’t wast any time in clearing the clothes off the bed. Some did make it to the couch and some to a chair but there were small piles on the floor.

I could see Elle’s silhouette thorough the slowly moving curtain and headed for it. She was standing at the railing on the balcony looking off to the East. As I approached her, naked, I could see that she was wearing a ‘package’. Thinking back to the previous night I couldn’t remember her putting it on. In fact, I couldn’t remember anything after our love making. She was wearing a short nightie that only dropped down to just below her waist which gave me a good view of the plastic panties which encased her ‘package’ and it looked like it had been used. I didn’t say anything about it just wishing I could take a picture… but I couldn’t… which leads me to a bit of an explanation.

In spite of the fact that we’d been in agreement not to get each other gifts for the anniversary, to me, it just didn’t seem right not to memorialize such an important date. I’d gone to Elle and asked if there wasn’t something that she wanted that would fill this void. She wouldn’t even give me a hint but after getting annoyed with me for coming back at her about it numerous times she said there was something I could do FOR her that would please her to no end. It sounded good to me so I asked. When she told I wasn’t all that happy… it was that she didn’t want me to take any “panty pictures” on the trip. I know the look on my face was one of resignation when I agreed to it. She reminded me that I was the one who ‘pushed’ her about it and I had to agree that I did.

Elle couldn’t believe I’d come outside without anything on and told me to go at least and put on my boxers. I told her I’d sidle up next to her and she could block anyone from seeing me. We ended up standing at the railing with an arm around each other as we watched the sun break free from the horizon. Then I felt her shudder. I knew immediately what it was… she was peeing. I let my arm and hand fall down to her backside and could feel the fresh warmth through the plastic panties. My ‘member’ was straight out and you could’ve hung a flag from it.

Back inside Elle headed for the shower as I put the clothes that were scattered about into some semblance of order. In that suitcase were the supplies for her nightly ‘package’. They took up about 20% of the space with most of it for the sanitary napkins. We would be sleeping in Bermuda for five nights which meant 15 pads. With two “Spanky Pants” per night it meant 10 of them. They were made with heavy ribbed cotton and took up a fair amount of space. We’d talked about washing them out each day but Elle didn’t want the maids to see them . In Florida we’d been able to use the facilities at the resort to take care of that problem but knew there would be no chance for that this trip. As far as daily panties, with them being nylon they didn’t take up much space at all and, in fact, I remember stuffing them into Elle’s and my shoes to save space. Also, by being nylon they would dry quickly so they could be washed out at night and dry the next morning. Even with that plan in mind I ended up bringing a dozen of them ‘just to be sure’.

The big question was… what to do first. In putting the clothes and other things away I came across the tennis clothes. So, that got added to the list we’d already established which included the pool, the beach/ocean and the mopeds. Before we decided on that my stomach said it was time for food. It was early and I figured the dining room wouldn’t be crowded. Our ‘crew’ was ready and waiting for us. It was a lot less hectic than at night and we got to chat with the guys a bit. They were all from South America as were most of the staff that made up Hospitality for the hotel. One thing I, for sure, will never forget was the breakfast buns they had there. I would’ve been satisfied to eat nothing but buns they were so good. Andres took note. On our way out we ran into the celebrity ‘look-alike’ who was in change of activities. He remedied us that the Jamaican steel band was playing that night and if we wanted a good seat it was best to make a reservation. I thanked him for that and asked about the tennis. It was ‘open’, without reservations on a first come basis up until 9am and after 6pm. I liked that because I surely didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of experienced players. The last thing I queried him about was places to ‘explore’ where we could get good views of both the ocean and the harbor. I made mental notes of both and looked forward to our  upcoming explorations.

We headed for the pool first. I don’t know why but we both expected the pool to have been heated but it wasn't. We both were in and out in just minutes. One of the benefits of going to Bermuda when we did was that were were both well tanned and didn’t have to worry about a sunburn. We saw a number of people who were badly sunburned and felt sorry for them. We decided to try the pool one more time and managed to swim the length of it before the cold took hold. Our next stop was the beach/ocean. When we’d made it there the previous night we were both disappointed that sand wasn’t pink as we’d been led to believe it was. However, with clear sky above there was definitely a pink hue to it. The other memory was in how soft it felt. A quick inspection showed the granules were smaller than the sand we had at home. It was a bit of a shock to find the water warmer there than in the pool but then I remembered what it was like back home where the water closest to the shore was always warmer because the sun was able to heat it where it was shallow. I ‘sucked it up’ and swam out about 100 yards to one of the coral ‘islands’ that we’d seen the night before. Like the beach attendant had said, they were bowl like and once up on the side you could climb in and swim in it. That water was as warm as bathtub water because it was shallow  with a background of dark coral for the sun to reflect off of. I couldn’t persuade Elle to join me though. We had a snack type lunch at the patio pavilion before heading back up the 151 steps to change and go off on our first moped adventure. We were just about to enter the hotel and I felt something wet hitting me. My first thought it was sprinkler to water the gardens but a quick look around didn’t expose any. Even though the sky was still blue I finally looked up and saw one white cloud… and it was rain. A pool attendant walked by and I asked about it. His answer… “you’re in Bermuda… expect it”

To be continued…

A CHANGE OF PACE... Bermuda (Part 164c)

A CHANGE OF PACE… Bermuda (Part 164c)

My memory seems to be telling me there were about 15 people there. (Elle wrote up the whole Bermuda experience but I have no idea where it is now. I’m reluctant to ask because I can’t think of a reason to give her when she, for sure, would ask why I wanted to see it. She has no idea of this blog and I sure as hell don’t want her to know. So… It’s my memory and the pictures that I’m relying on). The hotel manager ran the presentation and introduced the executive chef, hospitality manager and activities director. The activities manager reminded both of us of some celebrity and I wish I could remember who. When the hospitality manager was front and center he informed us that we’d be assigned a table and would have at our disposal an area maitre d’, a waiter and a bus boy for the time we’d be at the hotel and they’d introduce themselves at the dinner seating. I’d never heard of anything quite like it and was duly impressed. The activities director explained that the hotel, along with four others, shared a group of entertainment programs five nights a week. By sharing, he explained, they would move from one hotel to another. The sharing allowed the guests to go to any of the other hotels in the group to view a particular program that they enjoyed. I thought it was a great idea because we’d get to see some of the other hotels and be able to somewhat compare them. Once the presentation was over the finger foods were brought out and we mingled with the other new guests, not that we really wanted to.

Elle and I’d decided to make it a ‘private’ week so opted to have a table by ourselves. We chose a 6pm seating since it was our (at least Elle’s) usual time to eat. Not knowing when we left our room we were already dressed so spent some time wandering around the lobby area trying to get acclimated. One of the things we saw was a counter where we could rent mopeds. Elle was a little leery since she’d never ridden one but I told her that if we were to see the island it was the only way to go. Reluctantly, she agreed and we told the agent we’d be back the next day. I couldn’t wait as they looked like fun as we had passed any number of them while taking the taxi to the hotel.

At 6pm we were ready and waiting to find out just what ‘fine dining’ would be about. The hotel brochure had stressed that as one of the prime reasons people returned year after year. It sounded good but it was only advertising. We were escorted to our table, ironically number 21, the same number as the race car, by the maitre d’ who held the chair for Elle. Standing by was our waiter who was introduced as Andres (I think) and busboy who’s name I think was Jose. They were all dressed impeccably, looking more like they were headed for a formal affair and not serving us. There was a man standing in the background and was called forward by the maitre d’ who asked if we’d like a picture of us. Elle didn’t give me a chance to answer and the next thing there was a bright flash. I was so impressed by our assigned servers that I asked the photographer to take a picture of all three of them with us at the table. Of course, we had to pay for them but I figured “Why not?”.
             

The menu was so tall I couldn’t see Elle across the table when she was reading it. I’d never heard of most of the items and, even though I knew it was embarrassing, asked just what some of them were. I figured it was better to know just what I putting in my mouth rather than try to bluff my way through. I settled on Beef Tournedos when I found out it was really filet mignon that had been sliced. Elle settled on Rosemary Chicken figuring she could handle it. She knew rosemary was a spice although she’d never used it. One of the accompaniments was Ratatouille. Not only didn’t I know what it was, I couldn’t even pronounce it. As the waiter walked away I was smiling as I wondered just how many ‘country hicks’ he’d had to wait on in his career. Not only was the food delicious, but the service was quick and efficient. The busboy was there to remove the plates almost as fast as we took the last bite. Our water glasses never even got to half empty before he was there with more. They had a dessert cart with at least a dozen items on it. My first thought was “Too many choices…” but I managed to pick something (but I don’t remember what). When we left the table we were both impressed and full.

There was still over an hour of good daylight when we walked outside. The pool was still open and we checked it out vowing to make a ‘splash’ in the morning. During our meal we decided we wanted to see the pink sand we’d heard about as well as the clear blue water of the ocean. When we got to the stairs we weren’t so sure it was such a good idea. There was a tiny sign attached to the handrail that warned that there were 151 steps to get to the beach. I’ll never forget that number… the going down wasn’t too bad. They had made rest areas with benches after each 50 steps and as we descended we found some people taking advantage of them. At the first one we looked at each other wondering if it wouldn’t be better to wait until the next day… but we continued on. At the bottom we agreed it was worth the effort. The beach wasn’t all that big as it was constrained by massive coral cliffs but was well maintained with a clubhouse on one end that contained lockers and showers and a snack bar and patio area. The water wasn’t all that blue but a beach attendant who was collecting the umbrellas told us that it was because the sun was about to set. He told us to come back the next day and we’d be rewarded. Looking out into the water we could see what looked like mini islands. The attendant said they were more coral but it wasn’t the dangerous kind. He went on to say that they were like a bowl and many people swam out to them and then could actually swim inside them. It sounded interesting.

The trip back to the top looked daunting. It was starting to get dark by the time we started and the steps weren’t lighted. Since we were the last to leave the beach area we decided to take our time. When we got to the first platform we stopped. I sat down and pulled Elle onto my lap. I slid my hand up under her dress and started rubbing her crotch. She let me do it for a minute or two but than got up and went to the stairs and looked up. I wasn’t sure what she was doing but when she got back she pulled the hem of her dress up and proceeded to straddle my legs. I wasn’t expecting that and it took a few seconds to react by putting my hand under her crotch. It took but another few seconds for the pee to start. I let her finish before slipping my index finger under the leg elastic to find the now very wet and warm flesh that I was looking for. It took another few seconds before finding the ‘magic button’. However, that didn’t last long because she thought she heard voices. There was no question where we were headed after we arrived at the top… and it topped off an unforgettable day.

To be continued…