This is one of those traumatized-during but laugh-your-ass-off-later stories that happen while you’re completely not expecting it. It happened a little over 2 years ago, not long after our family had moved into a new apartment.

My boyfriend (long since became an ex) and I were in the house alone, having sex in my bedroom. After a while, the doorbell rang and we both looked at each other with the “Aw, shit” face and I climbed out of bed.

“I bet it’s just one of my goddamned friends trying to come eat my food and play my video games.” I looked at him and got an idea, and a very evil grin spread over my face. “Well, I’ll show them…I’ll just answer the door with only my panties on.” Mhmm…wonderful idea, wasn’t it?

So I pulled on a tiny pair of panties and walked to my bedroom door, pulled it open, turned the corner sharply to the left, and walked out into the living room, with my size 34 DD’s showing. I walked through the living room and to the front door, accompanied by my black and white cat, Luna. I reached for the doorknob and turned it, and I’d had it open about an inch when my boyfriend peeked around the corner at me.

“Psst…hun…it’s a cop!”

And I stopped dead in my tracks.

My mind raced, and I could feel my cheeks turn bright red from embarrassment. Thoughts about what to do zoomed through my head. I couldn’t very well close the door now, not with it already open a little bit, and not since there was a cop on the other side…but I couldn’t finish opening the door! But obviously this was important so I should answer the door regardless…but it’d be mortifying! But, but, but…

So I did what any partially sane person would do. I bent down, scooped up Luna, and held him across my breasts, and opened the door. After the opening of the door, events were as follows:

Me (trying to act cool and calm): “Hi! Can I help you?”

Cop (blinking, almost sputtering): “Um…yeah…uh…hello…um…yes, actually…”

Me (smiling, with cat squirming unhappily): “Are you here to see my parents?”

Cop (extremely embarrassed): “Ah, no, not necessarily, I just wanted to ask if you happened to know who lived here before you…”

Me (all bright and smiling, with cat digging claws in shoulder): “Yes! My stepfather’s mother used to live here, but she moved. May I ask why?”

Cop (blinking): “I…uh…we’re looking for a man who may have lived here a few years ago…but I guess you don’t know…”

Me (even brighter, bleeding from cat slashes): “Nope, don’t know. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help!”

Cop (starting to very slightly get over it): “It’s alright…really…have a, um, nice day…miss.”

And then he turned and stumbled back to his cop car as I closed the door…Luna howled and ran into the kitchen with his pride hurt…and I crawled back into bed with my boyfriend, completely traumatized, in need of a serious hug, complete with cookies and milk.

That cop is probably still telling this story ‘til this day.

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