She was wearing tight cycling shorts with a tight dryflo top that hugged her ample breasts nicely. I gathered myself together quickly, extended my han..., and smiled to greet her."Samantha?" I enquired."Yes it is indeed, and you must be Philip?" she replied with a broad, warm reciprocating smile."That's me!" I laughed. "Nice to meet you, please follow me".I turned and led the way to my treatment room, opened the door and Samantha followed me in. "Please take a seat, Samantha. I just want to go. Realizing her mistake, she backpedals and speaks louder, firmer, "Coach, this came for you." She motions for the package in her hands. I noticed then her wearing a soft pink shirt. I sigh. Last week hits me like a cold bucket of water. I had been at her house on a rainy day. Nothing bad happened—except for me getting a boner and leaking pre-cum—at all. But seeing her in that shirt reminds me of the way she stood by the entrance to her kitchen with that oversized, silky shirt that showed off. I lit a cigarette and turned around. At the time I had not decided whether or not to go through with the dare. I just didn’t want to leave Karen feeling disappointed. We’d been through so much together and, in all honesty, this was our first ever serious fight. When I got back to the youth centre I found her sitting behind the bicycle shed smoking. Her head tilted forward as if in deep contemplation. As I got closer I heard her sobbing. “Hey.” She looked up at me, wiped away a tear and. That would be someone from the Service and I'd be looking at a long night trying to explain why I'd felt it necessary to kill two men."Yeah." He was looking at me and not in a professional way. "After this is over, maybe we could..." Thanks, but..." I wrinkled my nose with an apologetic smile. "I don't think so, Detective." Right," he sighed, taking one last look at my legs as I took my ID from his fingers. It was time to go."Are you alright?" Stacy's hazel eyes looked ready to cry and I'd.