Echo 01 - Sex Stories

Echo 01

Echo 01

Well, hello there, I'm Earl Chowders, or Echo for short and I have the absolute luxury of being kept in the loop and accepted by a handful of people, even when one of my claims of fame is to keep my nose in everybody else's business. But more by listening and observing than just being a Chatty Catty. And that's not just because Chatty Catty scares me, but because there seems to be a rule about how many Chatty Catty's each city can claim.

So, I wish I was a tad, tad, tad thinner for my height, but I'm not too bad, it's how thin my hair is that bothers me, but on the reverse of that, I can sprout a tight, tight, tight ponytail and often do that.

Anyways, my story starts today with a recent weekend event that I weaseled my way into as a supporter and I want all of you to know that I pull my fair when invited to join in with all that fun. I am not a free riding weekend loafer and I have no problem of being the eyes and ears to ground or whatever the needs are.

With limits, of course because there's always that one apple in the basket that firmly believes that when a Boi wears lip gloss, then that must mean that he-she is willing to pull his weight while side seat riding to the resort, right? You know that rotten apple, right? He's nice enough and fairly harmless, but he just keeps digging into his memory scrapbook full of bad apple seed stories in the hopes that one of his bad memory stories will get his weight pulled during the hour drive to the amateur ...

... track meet trials and that's not going to happen. And yeah, yeah, yeah, I know darn well that Frank wants me to pull his weight the other way, but I just can't let that vision into my mental memory scrapbook! I mean, maybe with somebody someday, but not with Frank.

"Yeah, but, Echo, I mean, but Echo, what about that time when I took you fishing with me and guys as our cheerleader supporter, huh?"

"Oh, Frank, you mean the time you and the guys hung me by the back of my shorts on hook that was on the back of the cabin bedroom door for the entire Saturday afternoon, I mean, that time, hmm?"

"Oh, yeah, that's a bad example, Echo, so, I mean, oh, what about that time when I gave you 100% credit for figuring out how to drain the ice melt water out of the cooler's drain tube thingy after Jill's sprinter race thingy, huh, what about that time, Echo?"

"Frank, you mean the time you took my new cork wedge shoes and propped up the cooler up at an angle to let the water drain run out of the tube thingy because as I remember it, the cooler smashed the straps on my new wedged shoes and deformed the cork heels!"

"Oh, that may also be a bad example, but hey, Echo, what about that time when you helped me win a scout badge in knot tying, oh, tee he, that's a really bad example, um..."

Tee he, a really, really bad example, folks, but what a photo! And a highlight moment in my memory scrapbook! But, I mean, ahem.

"I mean, Frank, you're scrambling with your poor memory tricks ...