Because it was in a restaurant, we sat in a booth and so Cheryl and I were sitting closer together, our hips and thighs touching the whole time. Occas...onally, she would slip her hand through my arm, as though I was escorting her. Keeping it there for a bit, she would slightly squeeze my arm and use it as a lever to scoot even closer, maneuvering it so that it would brush her ample breast. This was getting good! Again, after the lunch was over, we agreed to gather once more, sometime during the. She asked what we were doing and why I had done what I did, whatever it was. She threatened to tell the principal about what had happened, but with a smirk I made up a lie about having needed to talk to her in private and didn't force her, pushing the idea of her seeing it in the wrong perspective. She just sort of blew me off then, and glared at me. I didn't think much of it, she didn't seem like the type to... you know... say something and actually DO it, one of the all talk types. I wasn't. More

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