Chapter 7: Oh My!

Mondays are my days for mowing and yard work. Dad left early with a load of watermelons for Jacksonville. He will spend the night there and return with another load from Jax.

After my breakfast of tea, cereal, and fruit, I broke out the mower. I mow every week when the grass grows. It grows when it rains. If we get a lot of rain for a few weeks and don’t mow, it takes 4 times the effort.

I checked it before starting; the grass needed cutting. I remembered this is an odd week, so I needed to trim the bushes first. That way, when I mow, the clipped leaves get mulched.

Our house is only wired for 110 volts. Homes here aren’t lit as bright as day. Light bulbs are 50 watts or lower. Most bulbs are compact fluorescents. Power plants are smaller, and people are much more conservative here, money-wise. This makes sense to them.

Rather than buy fencing. Most people here use large bushes rather than spend a lot of money on fencing. It looks nicer and gives small birds a place to hide out. Lizards and Cardinals love them especially.

They make electric hedge clippers, but we don’t own one. I have large manual hedge clippers, which take time and energy. Marcy came out in a skimpy bikini and used a hand edger and hand shears on the driveway. I whistled at her, and she laughed back at me and shook her bum at me.

After I finished the hedges, it was time to mow. I went all the way around the yard. The driveway opening has gravel. I started our little 3 hp mower. It is a rough, primitive-looking thing with no way to move it other than boy power. I am that boy.

This neighborhood beats planes flying overhead all day and big pickup trucks like in my other life. My last house was noisy all day from machines. I doubt our neighbors even noticed the pucketa-pucketa of our family’s little mower.

By the time Marcy and I were finished, we both needed showers.

I’d worn my old sneakers, which were really worn and filthy-looking. My feet hurt because they were too tight, but I didn’t want to ruin my good sneakers.

My sneakers are canvas-topped and have pale orange-ish rubber gum soles. I had not seen shoes like this in years. I mentioned sandals to Mom, and she asked Dad, and he approved a new pair of them for me. Evidently my last pair of sandals had broken.

Marcy and I stripped and got wet before soaping up our washcloths. We washed each other in the shower. We both headed back to bed for a nap after working outside in the heat and sun for two hours.

After lunch, Mom took us shopping. I got some brown leather sandals with buckles that go around the back of my foot and across the arch. These sandals are very good because they are adjustable and will last longer.

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I ended up in the women’s clothes area, walking behind them as they shopped for underwear. If you call the wisps of fabric they prefer here, underwear. They gathered some undies to try.

A man sat across from the change rooms, so I sat down as Mom and Marcy went in to try them on.

A woman came out in panties and a thin halter top that did nothing to tame her wholesome large titties.

I sprang a boner as she turned around and showed her husband or boyfriend the features of the panties and halter set. Both were thin enough that her goodies were easy to see.

She is tall and slender. Her nipples are dark brown, and she is quite excited showing her undies to her man and me. She smiled at me, but not as often as she smiled at him. She strutted by me once or twice, looking me in the eye and directly at my crotch to see if I approved. I did, so I and ‘Junior’ waved back.

Mom came out, and I think she is even hotter looking in skimpy panties and halter tops than when she is buck naked. She strutted by me first and then passed the other guy.

Of course we were both harder than the study of Bayesian Statistics, which is an esoteric way of applying data. They don’t have anything like that here. I don’t know of any computers here.

Marcy came out in sheer panties and made sure I got a close-up view of her Fanny from behind. Her panties hid nothing.

Seeing her bare boobies was nice. I could see her vulva’s shape perfectly; her panties were so thin that her slit was really clear. No question about her being a split tail. Marcy was leaving as Brenda, the other woman, came back out. Her Bo had her turn around and bend over with legs apart. I noticed this young woman had absolutely no hair below. He asked her to back up; he pulled the gusset aside, felt around, and played with her outer lips as if testing the fit. I could tell what he wanted to fit in her. He teased her for a minute.

The man said, “Sweet,” in a deep voice.

That one word was the understatement of the day.

I think this isn’t her second set of undies she’s tried on; she’s been here with him a while. She is obviously soaking wet, her labia are swollen and red. They must have been here a while.