INTO SUMMER… busy time (Part 173i)
Whenever we played the lawn
games it was always accompanied by lots of laughter and even some
screams. We’d not been concerned when we started but then I heard a
strange voice coming from the yard next door. Then I heard the
voice yell “Shut up!”. I got up from the chaise and headed in the
direction of the voice. I was almost to the willow tree that was on the
property line when I saw Meemaw, Mattie and Junior’s mother, behind the
tree. I hailed her and asked if anything was wrong. She had a disturbed
look on her face as she studied me. I identified myself but it appeared
she didn’t recognize me. I’d only met her a few times and only for a few
minutes. She finally spoke and told me we were making too much noise
and walked away. I didn’t know what to say. What it did was to pretty
much end the fun in the front yard. The girls were disappointed when we
picked everything up. However, it did give me a couple of nice views of
Elle’s wet panties as she bent over in doing it.
The girls headed for their playhouse in the back yard and Elle
and I headed for the screened in porch. I was happy that she didn’t
change out of her tennis dress and she positioned herself in the rocking chair so that I had a
good view. We didn’t come right out and talk about it but I had the feeling
that she was seriously thinking about getting intimate. What we did talk
about was her incontinence. Over time she had learned to handle it but
with the pregnancy it had gotten worse. She’d accepted it as the price
to pay for being pregnant. Her friend, Ginger, had gone through the same
thing so it wasn’t a shock to her but now, no longer pregnant, she was hoping
that she’d go back to the level where it had been. Even though it had only been a
little over a week since the miscarriage she was expecting things to be
back the way they were. It was my job to not let her get discouraged.
One way was to remind her that I enjoyed it when she’d let me ‘play’ with her when she was wet. As the girls had gotten older she’d gotten
away from letting me do it. So, here was a chance to both help her and
satisfy me. However, she kept bringing up the possibility that it
wouldn’t get better. I didn’t try to make light of it and, instead,
asked what was the most annoying aspect of it.
It didn’t take
long for her to identify the worst aspect of it. I was expecting her to
say the embarrassment. That wasn’t it at all. Starting at about the
fourth month she found she had little or no control. Prior to that she
could count on anywhere from two to three hours and then she’d get a
‘warning’ where she’d dribble a little and that would let her know to find a toilet
quickly. We’d made up ‘dribble panties’ with layers of French
terrycloth in the crotch to, for the most part, control it. She’d shared
that information with Ginger and we’d actually made up six pairs for her. Using a
pair of sanitary panties with the plastic crotch over them they had
worked fairly well. But, once she started to ’show’ they didn’t work at
all and she’d reverted to wearing what we called a ‘package’. It was
what she wore to bed at night and consisted of a couple of heavy ribbed
cotton panties with usually three sanitary pads with it all covered with
a pair of plastic panties that covered everything. Her complaint was
that the plastic panties didn’t ‘breathe’ and made her midsection and
bottom very hot and uncomfortable. That was why, since coming home from
the hospital she was wearing summer dresses and only panties when at
home. If she ‘missed’ no one would know and in just a week was getting
good at somewhat disguising that she was wetting herself. That was the
part I liked. A good example of it was the way she was with me on the
screened in porch… only a tennis dress and panties. We’d been there for a
short while when I saw a puddle start to form under her as she sat in
the wicker rocking chair. As I watched it grow there was something else
that was growing as well. So, with her identifying being uncomfortable
wearing the plastic panties as the problem I told her I had an idea.
Up
until the pregnancy she’d gotten by with but four pair of the full
plastic panties. But that wasn’t going to be enough what with her
wetting multiple times a day. On my last visit to the data center I
visited the one department store that I knew for sure carried the ones she liked
and bought six more. It was getting near the point that she needed some
new ones anyway. Back when we’d been working on the the idea of the
‘dribble panties’ we’d made a prototype panty from a some old sanitary
panties. We’d sewn multiple cotton crotches we’d taken from some of her
well stained Carter’s Spanky Pants panties into them. The idea being
that when she’d ‘dribble’ the cotton crotches would catch it and the
plastic crotch would keep it from getting into her clothes. We made a
few and they seemed to work well enough that I decided to show them to
my friend with the lingerie company who didn’t show any interest. (Note:
other companies eventually came up with the same thing and they’re still being
widely sold, mostly through catalogs). But, back to the conversation… I
told her that what we could try was to cut the upper part off the
plastic panties and sew the top of a pair of nylon or cotton panties on
the plastic bottoms. That way some air could get in and give her some
relief. I won’t say she jumped up and down upon hearing my idea but she
indicated it was worth a try.
Even though I was still aching I
wanted to go to the garage that night. The plan was to check the
bearings like we’d done the week before and to also remove the intake
manifold to prepare the motor for the fuel injection system that
Freddy was going to loan us. I’d wanted to be the one to spin the worn
bearings out having been able to successfully accomplish it the week
before but I knew my body wouldn’t let me turn and twist under the car
like I knew I’d have to do. Since I’d been given the job of checking
over the motor I figured I’d get the job of removing the manifold.
Whatever it was that my assignment was to be, I was excited at the
potential the new equipment would bring and was happy to be a part of
it. Elle didn’t really complain about me leaving which was a good sign.
It had been good for both of us to have the time together and her
acceptance of my leaving was the result of it.
At the garage I
was surprised to find that Cliffy, his brother and father had unloaded
the race car and he’d gone ahead and drained the oil. The dreaded shiny
slivers were present again which guaranteed that we’d have to change the
bearings. When I explained how sore I was I was assigned the job
of draining the fuel cell. Since we’d be running alcohol with the fuel
injection all traces of gasoline had to be removed. The fuel cell had a
special foam inside it to keep the liquid from sloshing around and we
would have to replace it. I knew had a whole night of work ahead of me.
Dick was tasked with spinning the bearings out and replacing them. The
used ones didn’t look as bad as the ones we’d removed the week before
but that was because they were special racing bearings and not plain old
stock ones. We all finished up around 11pm with the plan to return on
Thursday night when Freddy was to deliver the fuel injection. I remember
Alan being the one who was the most excited about the prospects of
racing with it. I wasn’t far behind him.
To be continued…
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