.. please ... please... “. Just to shut him up, I began to let my memories come out aloud. I was talking as I was remembering these moments: “that...one fine morning, she rode the bus, sat in her usual chair, facing me, she was wearing torn pants, so torn, I could see the twists and turns of her sexy white legs. She knew I’ve been looking at her. She enjoys my indirect looks. She sat in a way that let the torn pants reveal as much skin as possible. I saw her thong. I even saw a few strands of. That was it. It connected to a tunnel leading into basement level where the furnace was. I could have parked a block away but carrying my tools that far would have been difficult. And I didn’t want to appear to be a lone guy, same stranger arriving, climbing the long steps up to the front door carrying nothing and then staying inside for a couple of hours, maybe more, doing what?The neighbors knew when the husband was out of town. He wasn’t arriving in his garage. Surely they were all chatty. More

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