She stepped out of her sandals as she unbuttoned the jeans and stood on one foot to pull them off one foot and then the other and toss them after the bra and shirt. Then she repeated the same maneuver with the red bikini panties and picked up the shoes and tossed them after the rest.
She turned back to the sliding door of the van with her eyes focused on the ground, giving Wally a full frontal view of her milk-white tits, slightly rounded belly, chubby thighs and the untrimmed patch of pussy hair that, well, the carpet matched the drapes, as they say. Without looking up she raised her right fist, pumped the air with it twice and raised it in a clinched fist salute like she'd just thrown a touchdown pass and yelled "Yes!" through a wide smile.
The view didn't last. She reached into the back seat and pulled out a yellow housedress, which went over her head and down her body as fast as the T-shirt had come off. She shoved the sliding door shut and hopped into the front seat, started the van and took off up the dirt road toward the main gate leaving a cloud of dust.
"I just GOTTA see," Wally said out loud as he started toward the dumpster. Really, it wasn't his business, but he really had to satisfy his curiosity.
The last two bags she had tossed were in easy reach on top of the other garbage. Wally ripped one open. The bag was full of men's clothes; Shirts, T-shirts, jockey shorts, socks. He ripped the other bag; tailor-made silk suits, men's sport jackets and golf shirts.
The third bag had more men's clothes, all good stuff, nothing worn out or hand me downs like the woman had been wearing. The fourth had more of the same, new men's clothing from top of the line designer shops. The guy that wore this shit must have spent some mega bucks.
Wally reached for the fifth bag and tore it. Men's shoes. Italian men's shoes, loafers and patent leather, black and brown and not a scuff or worn heel in the lot.
Wally was going to wonder about this for a long, long time.
