Touch

Touching

The Hand

I remember the first time it ever happened. My friend Terry Adams and I were on a double date and I was driving the family Falcon. I was in the front seat with Cynthia and Terry was in the back with Karen McDaniel. We where talking about where we were going and what we were going to do when Cynthia casually laid her hand on my thigh.

Now if you think cell phones should be banned while driving, how about a girl putting her hand on your thigh? That is a distraction that‘s ten times worse. How was an eighteen year old guy in High School supposed to think when his girl friend did something like that? It was hard enough concentrating on my driving, carrying on a conversation and trying to act cool, without Cynthia’s hand resting a bit too close for comfort. What kind of signal was she trying to send anyway?

She just kept jabbering away like it was the most natural thing, like holding hands or dancing but it wasn’t anything like either one of those. It brought to mind a possibility I had been fantasizing about for months. Maybe if she started rubbing or drumming her fingers but no there wasn’t any hanky-panky going on, like she was trying to be provocative or anything like that…no it was just there, like a kitten in the lap not going anywhere, just plopped down, resting inches from my you know what. And that wasn’t the worst of it. Yeah, you guessed it. If she noticed, she didn’t let on but how could she be unaware? Running down my pant leg was a garden hose. The levis I was wearing were tight fitting and there was this hemp rope in the pant leg. I started squirming around and you would think she would have gotten the hint and taken it away but “nope“. It stayed right there, hovering, inches away, never moving.

We went to a drive in movie and started making out. She turned in the front seat towards me and put her right arm around my neck and we embraced and started kissing. Her left hand however, never budged from the inside of my leg. We went at it with a kissing frenzy and I decided to try my luck on her breast. After all, I reasoned, look where her hand was? She was definitely trying to tell me something…it was some kind of secret signal I hadn’t learned yet. It was the green light to move our relationship to the next intersection. So I reached up for a little fondle. She anticipated what I had in mind before my fingers ever got in gear, before there was any real momentum in that direction. About halfway up her waist she locked hold of my wrist and squeezed it in a death grip.

“No!” she said and it wasn’t one of those “Maybe Nos.” It was a definite, “No way, Jose,” We made out some more and her left hand never moved, resting there, asleep, next to my crotch.

On the way home, after the movie, I was really starting to suffer. I was shifting about in the seat trying to get comfortable and she was wiggling right next to me, her mouth jabbering away in the full talk mode. When we got to her house I parked in the drive and walked her to the door.

We kissed briefly. The curtains shifted, like someone was peaking and she smiled. “I sure did have a good time, “Percy.”

“So did I.”

“Call me.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Drive carefully.”

“I will.” I told her as I turned walking back to the car I must have looked like Chester from Gun Smoke. hobbling along.

“Something wrong?” asked Terry.

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” I said.