Not yet.He placed a hand on her leg, and then slightly higher, apart from another giggle she made no response. He kept up the gentle kissing.Unheeding...of the driver, he touched cotton. Her legs parted further. She was damp. He applied gentle pressure. She moaned. He slipped a finger under. She was smooth, but for a small trimmed patch above. His finger slipped inside, she groaned into his mouth. Now it was certain.He paid the driver and led her into his flat. Two beers were opened; he led her. We didn't talk about the specifics of myactually wearing the bras or panties, but I'm assuming she most have justmade the assumption that I did in fact wear the girl's clothing. Shedidn't seem to make any judgments or anything like that. It almost seemedlike she thought it was natural that I'd wear those things. I got myselfcleaned up for dinner, went out and set the table as I would every otherevening."So, would you like to talk about this anymore this evening?" she askedme without putting any. "Send him in."A moment later a large man in standard business wear walked in as I stood from my chair. He could see my initial reaction, so he pulled a billfold out of his wallet and showed me the badge and service card contained within. "Sorry, as a detective I usually work in plain-clothes," he said as I looked over the card. "But this should be a simple stop. You are Mark Hawkins. And two years ago you lived in Maple Grove, California correct?"I started as I handed the badge back to the. I could smell his cologne. After what happened at the house, there was no telling what he might do."We really need that information from you, young lady." Willowbough said, forcefully. He had his one hand on my leg, running it up and down. "Things will go much easier for you if you tell us what we need to know." He looked back and whistled. Two officers entered the room and closed the door. They walked over to me with a sick, twisted look on their faces. "Is your memory improving?" Willowbough.