It had been quite a winter so far. Above average snowfall, below average temperatures and it was only January. But it was Michigan. Today was quite a different story. The sun was actually out, it was approaching 40 degrees and some of the winter mix was quickly melting. It was Friday, and everyone was looking forward to the weekend. Some accident right outside the office caused the power to be cut to the building; 11:00 am and everyone had to be sent home, can't work without heat. A bonus time weekend.
Pam was without a ride. She is a 46 year old woman, 5'-7", sharp shoulder length bleached blond hair, and fighting the middle aged battle of the bulge. She was approaching about 160 lbs. She carried her weight well, and usually wore one-piece outfits that didn't hug her curves, but were not a tent. Today was no exception, she wore a gray, flannel jumper v-neck dress with a black belt, black panty hose and black turtle neck light sweater under the dress which covered the v-neck and kept her warm in the winter air. She carried her 38-D chest proudly. Her car was in the shop, her son was away at college. Her husband was to pick her up at 5, she looked around for a hitch home, her house being out in the country. She saw Sandy walking by and remembered that they only lived a few miles apart.
Sandy was a 31 year old, new mother of about 6 months. She was about 5'-5" and already slimmed down to about 140 lbs. since giving birth six months ago. She had medium length brunette hair, which she wore "puffed-up" and framed her full rounded face. She looked a lot like Monica Lewinsky. Even most of the people at work joked and called her Monica. She did not mind. Since giving birth, she was trying, almost too hard, to look leaner and younger and wore clothes that were a bit too tight and a bit too short. Today she was in a short plaid skirt, white panty hose, knee high black boots and a white wool sweater which clung to her milk engorged 40D chest. Normally she was about a 36C. The breast-feeding did have its advantages.
Sandy was not particularly well liked by anyone in the building, except of course by some of the younger males. Everyone agreed she was a high maintenance type bitchy woman, who always complained about her second husband, and gave everyone the impression that she was the only one who experienced childbirth. Pam, wanting to get home sooner, bit her tongue, considered the alternative and asked for a ride, which Sandy, without hesitation, agreed to, that was strange.
On the 40 minute ride home the conversation was carried by Sandy who was bitching up a storm about, breast-feeding, diaper changing and so forth. Her husband was going to pick up the baby from day care and that was fine for her, she wanted an afternoon alone. As the two approached Pam's house, lucky they were in a Ford Expedition, the gravel road was melting and quite full of mushy potholes. Snow was really melting, it almost felt like a breath of spring. The vehicle was warm with the sun out and both women shed their coats. It was a rough ride to the driveway, turning off the main road to an almost secluded private road that was pock marked with potholes. Pam's house was about 200 feet off the private road. She told Sandy to just drop her at the drive and that she would walk up the drive. She turned in the drive and Pam grabbed her purse, bag with shoes, as she wore her winter boots to and from work, and her coat that she was going to put on for the trek to the house. As she was slipping the coat on, and leaving the front seat, she was not familiar with the large step down from the 4x4, as she went to plant one foot on the running board, and promptly slipped and slid out the door and sprawled onto the 3 ft high snow bank. The snow bank was created by the plows, which maintained the street. Her shoe bag flew one way, her purse another and her coat was half off and crushed under her.
Sandy couldn't help but laugh and giggle loudly. She couldn't stop. It was like something out of the movies. Pam just lay on the snow bank trying to figure out how this happened. She was lying on her back on the front of the bank. Her dress slid up and her ass was getting wet and her coat, with only one arm in, was providing a crude headrest. Pam was starting to get mad at Sandy's laughter. She didn't even ask if she was OK. Sandy yelled, "Hey the Olympics aren't until next year, you better save the good stuff for then, I would give you a 9.0 for form". That was it. Pam was steamed but good. She rolled onto her side and grabbed the still open door for support and lifted herself up. She pulled her other arm into her somewhat wet coat, then reached out to steady herself on the snow bank. The snow was wet and good packing. She hastily formed a baseball-sized snowball and whipped it into the front seat of the vehicle to silence the aggravating laughter.
Bulls-eye. Pam was shocked. Never being one for sports, her aim was impeccable. She scored a hit right in Sandy's open mouth, which had the added benefit of humor as well as stopping the laughing. Now it was Pam's turn. She began a belly type laughing at her luck and the expression on Sandy's face. Sandy was instantly mad and focused her thoughts on revenge. She wiped her face and opened her door, spit out the snowy residue and swung out on the running board and jumped down on the snow bank on her side of the vehicle. She quickly scooped up some snowballs and charged around the front of the truck. Pam being surprised by Sandy's quickness, reacted slowly. She bent over for more ammunition and was promptly whacked with a snowball in her shoulder. Then one at her ass. Then another that just kissed the top of her head. She hastily threw one and retreated for the rear of the large vehicle. Sandy was an expert shot. She played softball in college, and was still somewhat fit. Pam, realizing this called "Truce, I think that we are even". There was no reply. Pam crept to the corner of the vehicle and peered around it. There was no sign of the enemy.