Quote:
Originally Posted by spacejanitor
So, what's your story?
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A lot like yours.
First and only time I was caught was in high school, in the back seat of my dad's Mercury, with my high school sweetheart. We were at Dam Site 16, now more commonly referred to as "Standing Bear Lake." (I know, kinda cliche, but we didn't really have anywhere else to go.)
We had slipped into the back seat, and things were getting hot and heavy (it was summer so hot is no lie). I still remember working her top over her head, wrestling with her bra... the button fly on her Levi's. And after much effort, her clothes were almost entirely off. Mine too. Suddenly her face is lit up like the moon, and she is ducking her face into her hands and scrambling for her bra.
I was like a cop magnet at that age, so I knew what was happening. Maybe it was the effort of getting this girl out of her clothes, or just exasperation, but instead of being spooked or whatever I just remember being so incredibly pissed off!
The Cougar was a 2-door, so I had to push the driver's seat forward, and hitch up my pants. I unlatched the door, gave it a shove, and stepped out of the car with one leg, right into the spotlight of the Sheriff's squad car.
To this day I have no idea why--maybe it was my indignant expression, my angry "What?!", or who knows?--but the spotlight went off. The cop through the cruiser into reverse and drove away.
Of course, after that interruption, it was impossible to get my GF back in the proper frame of mind... sigh. At least he didn't run us in for public indecency or something. LOL.
Edit: Oh, shoot. We weren't actually f*cking yet... still doing all the other fun stuff. Does that still count?