That night we had the time of our lives, luckily my parents were both out of town. We made out all over the house and then I took her to my room and f...cked her good for hours in all different positions. I fell asleep with the girl of my dreams in my bed, holding her so close to me that we could feel each other’s heartbeats and I thought life couldn’t get any better. And then it did. I woke up the next morning thinking it was all a dream. It was a scene straight out of American Hi-fi’s “The. I started playing things over in my mind. Yes, I had toadmit that there had been times over the years when it looked like mythings, especially my pantyhose and stockings, did not look exactly how Iremembered leaving them. And yes, maybe a few times my makeup drawerlooked a little out of place. Yes, there were one or two times that Icould not seem to locate a favorite pair of panties. But I dismissed allof that as me just being absent-minded or careless. Now, I was not sosure. Was it. About a week later, I got a call in the middle of the day while at work. Cindy told me there was a woman in distress at her home that she thought I should hurry over and see if I could help.I drove over as soon as I could expecting to have Cindy standing at the garage door waiting for me. The garage door was open, but no Cindy waiting for me; not even in my favorite costume, her birthday suit. I pulled my Jeep in the garage and went into the kitchen.Cindy was sitting on the kitchen table in my. I hadn’t felt like this since I was a teenager. I definitely felt like what I was doing was “wrong”. But, I also was rationalizing that I was only a friend who was going to share a drink with a friend, maybe talk a little about our problems, and then go back home. She had set up a chair beside hers, and told me to sit next to her. Then she handed me a glass of what she was drinking. It was wine. I took it and sat down beside her. By now my eyes had adjusted pretty well to the darkness. We.