He looked around until he found a Philadelphia phone book and looked up his old neighbor's phone number."Hello, Mrs. DiGiovanni? This is Steve Stone. ...'m not sure if you remember me, but I used to be your neighbor." Who is this?" asked the old woman."About thirteen years ago, a woman and her teenage son lived in the apartment next door to you. The woman became real sick, and she died. Do you remember?"The phone was silent for a moment as the woman tried to recall. "Ah, yes, I remember now. It. By the time they made it to the room, she was down to her bra and underwear, and he quickly tossed off his athletic shorts. He was about to plow the same cunt that some guy he didn’t even know had been plowing all day, he was sure. “Lay down,” he commanded, and she began to protest, but he pointed to the bed and she understood it was an order. “Get that shit off.” He motioned dismissively to her bra and panties, and she quickly obliged.“Steven, you know I love only you, right? Tell me you know. More

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