She eventually moved away and we kept in touch via email for several years. Just chatting and such. I guess she was just feeling me out. She was always quite intimate with me. Telling me about her father, her brother and her troubles. She would send me pictures of her and text me occasionally when she was out with her girlfriends. I did take her out to lunch one time and gave her a hug in the parking lot as we left, she told me later that if I had made a pass at her she would have let me taken her home and fuck her right then!Our descent into our secret affair started innocently enough with her sending me pictures of her scars from her recent surgery, tiny little scars above her pretty little behind. She then started asking me about a conference that I was attending and stating that she wanted to go too, as it was a general conference that she could benefit from. I told her that I would take her out to a fancy restaurant and treat her to dinner, kind of flirting with her at. She grabbed her bathrobe, put on some slippers, and strode across the intervening lawn, the cool night air slipping under her robe and up her thighs like an overeager lover as she went. She shook her head at that thought ... she had been reading too many romance novels!She banged on the door of Carl’s house with her fist. A few moments later, her nose was assaulted by the scent of unwashed male and cigarettes, and her ears by Def Leppard, as Carl opened the door, beer in hand, still wearing the jeans and dirty t-shirt from earlier that day.He leered at her. “Who’re you, babe?”“I’m ... Patty,” she answered, confused, “your renter?”“Oh shiiit!” Carl whistled as he squinted at her. “Without yer glasses you look totally different, like Clark Kent and Superman, y’know? Well, come on in, Supergirl!” He opened the door wide.Now Patty realized that she was standing there in a simple bathrobe being ogled by the man who had been stealing her dirty panties, and she had left her phone back in.
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