Encounter at Denny’s 2
Chapter 2 What the hell was I going to do? How did she figure out where I lived? Where were the cop cars with the officers ready to haul me away? Cautiously, I opened the door after she knocked a second time. “Um, hi,” I said, brilliant conversationalist I am. “I Googled your phone number,” she said. “Can I come in?” Looking around once more for the police I was sure couldn’t be far behind, I stepped back from the door. When I got home, I’d changed into a pair of baggy cotton shorts and a t-shirt. The shorts did nothing to conceal the rampant organ threatening to tear its way out. She giggled as I closed the door, not in the cruel way most teenage girls perfect by the time they enter puberty. It …