Jan and Dan.

I had agreed to see a movie with a guy from my work. We sat in the balcony, and there were only about three couples when we first got there. We started necking and I let him feel my tits inside my top, but then the balcony started filling up, and when some kids I knew sat down close to us, I asked him to stop for a while but he wouldn’t, so I left the movie (and him) and started walking home. A different time and place I would have let him go farther, just not in a public theater. People talked about me enough as it was. His attention had excited me though, my nipples were still hard and there was the unmistakable feel of wet panties as I walked.

I lived a short distance out of town with my grand parents, so it was just a nice walk to my house from the theater, and being an overweight teen I certainly could use the exercise. I just ambled along smelling the honeysuckle along the road and looking at the stars, really enjoying the night.

Less than half way home a car pulled beside me, and really scared me, till I saw it was Dan, the local sheriff. He asked why I was walking and I briefly explained my date to him and he just laughed his deep jovial laugh. He said he was off duty and would give me a ride home.

Dan was legendary around our town, both for his dedication to law enforcement, and his penis. On the short ride home he caught me staring at his crotch, trying to see if it were true or not. I was embarrassed to be caught, and blushed profusely when he asked if I was enjoying undressing him with my eyes. I just giggled and asked if I was that obvious, all the while wishing the light were better.

When we got to my house he stopped the car across the street under a big oak tree that sort of hung out over the road, and offered a dark spot in the otherwise bright night, and started asking me about my movie date again. He wanted to know if the boy had his hand in my bra, or up my skirt, and I admitted his hand was inside my top, but that he didn’t get his hand up my skirt. His next question was, “did I ever let boys touch me there” and again I was blushing, and told him a little white lie, that “yes, I had “a few times” The honest answer should have been “lots of times”.