But there were so many other joys that he didn't need to be reminded of. And there was the aching residue of memory. But unlike all of the other event..., this one was leading to love.Harry was twenty-eight and had only just opened his own financial advisory business. Things had gone very well and he had bought himself a house, and a low mileage BMW. On that chilly February day, he was having his car serviced at a garage he had used since his first car.The garage was adjacent to a local station. “Looks like there’s been a hell of a fight, just like the one in the alley,” Judy offered. “There’s a blood trail across the loft.” She followed it and it led to a door about halfway opened at the back of the loft. Walking to it, she saw a tight stairway leading down. She also saw some blood smeared on the door jamb and bloody footprints continued down the stairs.The ME and his crew entered the room and began their investigation just as Judy started to descend the stairway. “Judy hold up,” Matt. She had her back turned to me, and the sheets had pulled themselves back to reveal her marvellous figure. She’d never agree that it was, no matter how many times I told her, but she seemed to have accepted, and embraced, the fact that I’d never get tired of her. I moved up behind her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, smelled the sweetness that seemed to be her natural odour, and kissed her neck. With a soft murmur, she shifted, pushed herself back against me, and for a second, we were only. I rubbed my body against hers and shivered at her touch. Her hands slid down under the water and squeezed my ass, pulling my hips towards hers. Our hips ground against each other and I moaned at the contact. I wanted to fuck her so badly. “You like that, Ms Truman?” “Callie,” I corrected, plastering my mouth back to hers. “Call me Callie.” “You like that Callie? You like my pussy on yours?” “Uh-huh,” another passionate kiss. More tongues and gasps. I pressed closer still and rubbed up and.