Barry took a small lean back as Angela posed the question to him. "Well lets see," he began as he tried to make it not too obvious that he was looking at her cleavage, enjoying the view. "My freshman year of high school I dated a cheerleader. I did basketball and track that year so we traveled quite a distance for games. Well, a few times she would blow me or give me a nice hand job when it was dark enough. Once we had sex while it was very late coming back from a game."
He looked up at Angela, moving his hand onto her leg. "My sophomore year I dated a girl who threw barn parties on her farm," he told her. "And, no, not everyone in rural America has a farm. But we would sneak under the barn while the party was going on and fuck while people danced above us."
Barry began to move his hand slowly up Angela's thigh as he continued to talk. "My girlfriend my last two years of high school was one of the pastors daughters. Needless to say, she called out to God quite a bit," he told her with a small smirk. "There were times when she would let the past ex with the barn parties be a part of the fun."
By this time Barry had moved closer to Angela and his hand had moved up her thigh some more, slowly disappearing under her skirt. "So, Kincaid," he said as he finished some of his stories, "are those naughty enough for you? Have you been worse than any of those girls?" Barry inquired as the waiter came and he ordered his food.
He looked up at Angela, moving his hand onto her leg. "My sophomore year I dated a girl who threw barn parties on her farm," he told her. "And, no, not everyone in rural America has a farm. But we would sneak under the barn while the party was going on and fuck while people danced above us."
Barry began to move his hand slowly up Angela's thigh as he continued to talk. "My girlfriend my last two years of high school was one of the pastors daughters. Needless to say, she called out to God quite a bit," he told her with a small smirk. "There were times when she would let the past ex with the barn parties be a part of the fun."
By this time Barry had moved closer to Angela and his hand had moved up her thigh some more, slowly disappearing under her skirt. "So, Kincaid," he said as he finished some of his stories, "are those naughty enough for you? Have you been worse than any of those girls?" Barry inquired as the waiter came and he ordered his food.