I've always loved the first warm days in spring. When I was a kid, it meant the end of the school year was just around the corner and then I'd have three whole months to play baseball, fish, and camp out in the back yard. When I got to high school, it meant three whole months to play baseball, fish, and camp out on her porch with a willing girlfriend for an hour or two.
Since we've been married, those first warm days of spring mean Jackie, my wife, starts her annual flower planting frenzy. Now, planting flowers may not seem as fun as fishing, but planting days are when Jackie trades her jeans and sweaters for little shorts and tank tops. Watching Jackie bent over and putting flower plants in the ground is a lot more fun than fishing.
That's what she was doing that day when I went home for lunch. I fixed myself a ham sandwich and walked out in the back yard and got half-mooned by the sexy ass cheeks peeking out from the legs of her short-shorts. That was enough to make me think about taking an extra half-hour for lunch. What made me think about calling Bill Abrams, my second shift deputy and asking him to work overtime was Jackie's underwear.
See, Jackie has new underwear for dressing up in, which means she's worn it two times before at the most. Those are the panties and bras she wears when we go to a party or she's feeling really sexy for some reason. Then she has "everyday" underwear, which is where the dressing up underwear ends up after the third washing. She puts it on to go shopping or to Sadie's beauty shop to get her hair done.
After the everyday underwear goes through the wash a few dozen times, the elastic in the panties starts to go slack and they get pretty baggy, and the bra cups get pretty floppy. Then they become her "house" underwear, the underwear she puts on when she's working at home. That day, she was wearing "house" underwear, and the panties were loose enough they'd sort of twisted around and she had one delicious pink pussy lip peeking out of the leg of her shorts.
I walked out to her flowerbed and squatted down. Now, anybody who's ever squatted down knows you have to have something to put your hand on while you're squatting. Jackie's ass was handy, so I put my hand there. After I got all squatted down, my hand just naturally slipped down over her ass and up the leg of her shorts. My index finger was just getting a nice feel of the inside of that pussy lip when Jackie sighed and sat back on her heels.
"Tom, don't you have to back to work?"
I grinned and slipped my finger up and down her soft lips.
"Yeah, but I still got a half-hour of lunch time left, and I got my finger on what I feel like having for dessert."
"No...I'm not done yet and besides, I'm all dirty and sweaty."
"My dessert doesn't look dirty and it sure doesn't feel sweaty. A little slippery maybe, but not sweaty. I kinda like a slippery dessert after lunch."
"Well, after I get these last plants in the ground, your slippery dessert is going in to take a shower and then go buy groceries unless you wanna to eat chips and canned peaches for dinner tonight."
"I like my peach fresh from the shower, so how about if you go wash it for me. We'd still have fifteen minutes or so."
Jackie picked up the nozzle on the garden hose and grinned.
"Don't make me use this. Now get your butt back in your squad car and to back to protecting the citizens of Buck Lick. If you be a good little sheriff, we can play tonight."
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I was walking into the town hall when I heard the sweet, syrupy sound of a west Tennessee girl's voice.
"'Mornin', Sheriff McCabe."
The voice belonged to Linda Lou Lawrence. Well, she used to be Linda Lou Maberly, but that was before she and Alfred got married.
"Hi, Linda Lou. Haven't seen you for a while. How you been doin'?"
She blushed and looked at the sidewalk.
"Well, you kin see some of what I been doin'."
And I could. Judging from how I remembered Jackie when she was pregnant, Linda Lou was about seven months along. I figured that was wrong, though, because Linda Lou is about five feet nothing and normally weighs in at a hefty ninety pounds or so soaking wet.
"Yep...I can. 'Bout six, maybe seven months?"
"Doc Wilson says six and a half, but I think he's off by a couple weeks. Mama says a woman feels when it happens, and I'm purty sure I did."
"Alfred doin' OK too?"
"Oh yeah. He's happy as a cow in a corn crib that he's gonna be a daddy. He's home plowing up more garden space. He says with another mouth to feed, we're gonna need it. I come in town to see Doc Wilson and buy more seeds."
"Well, you tell Alfred I said 'Hey', OK?"
As I watched Linda Lou waddle off toward the hardware store, I smiled. She and Alfred were probably the unlikeliest match I'd ever seen.
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Linda Lou was the youngest of the five Maberly kids and the other four were all boys. I suppose all the ruckus of four brothers in the house and her being the only girl and all was a little wild for her, so she stayed pretty much with her mama. Her mama was a quiet sort of woman, and Linda Lou was just like her.