Well, almost...

I was a junior in high school, and it was Labor Day weekend. My boyfriend and I were both amazingly horny, and having nothing better to do, figured we might as well get it on. Since this was the Friday of the holiday weekend, at around 2 or 3 in the afternoon, doing this at his house was a bad idea, since his father was getting off work early and would be home any minute. Being the intellegent woman that I am, I suggested that we go to my house instead.

Now, for reasons I'm unsure of, we decided that we absolutely *had* to have sex on the fold-out couch in my living room. In the middle of broad daylight. Perfectly on display.

Well, we undressed, and were well on our way to getting things in motion when I jumped up, stated that I had to get the KY Jelly from upstairs, and went running. Now, the stairs are right by my front door, and my front door has a long window next to it. As I came back down, stark naked mind you, I happened to glance out the window. And who should I see, but my father putting his key in the lock?

Panicked, I ran into the living room, hysterically shouting something about my father being home, and how my boyfriend should hide under the bed (We have mere seconds now between safety and discovery). Taking the safer route, my boyfriend grabbed all of his clothes, and ran to my deck door to jump to freedom-- *Time slows down* I run after him, slam open the door, and push him fully naked onto the deck. As I shut the door again, I turn around, and see my father standing there, jaw on the floor.

Now, this is the scene he walked in on-- the couch is fully pulled out, my clothes are scattered all over the living room floor, I'm standing there clutching an almost-completely-see-through curtain around me in one hand and a bottle of KY Jelly in the other. He stares at me. I stare at him. Complete horror is registered all over my face. Thinking fast, I stammer something about how I was masturbating (at this point in time, my father still thought I was a virgin), my friend Reecy had jumped the deck as she usually does when I don't answer the door, completely surprised me, and I had jumped up to tell her to go away because I was "taking care of myself". My father shook his head and went upstairs, which was my cue to throw on my clothes and promptly flee the house for the entire weekend.

Fast forward five years. Said guy and I are dating again and we have to move my stuff from Baltimore to Harrisonburg... all of my books and other heavy stuff get dropped off at my dad's house for safe keeping. "A" politely reintroduces himself, and although my father profusely denies ever having seen him before, there is an awkwardess hanging on the air. This is soon surpassed when "A" brings up books he has just finished reading-- pretty soon the two are talking like they are old friends. Two hours later, we have to excuse ourselves and "A", out of courtesy, says "It was so nice to meet you; I hope that next time you will remember me..." to which my father replies "Yeah, and maybe next time I won't have to chase you off the deck!" Yikes!!!!!!!

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