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She cupped the front of her bra in her hand, holding it in place as she looked up at me. “I have to know your name,” Jamie said. “Scott,” I re...lied. “Well Scott,” Jamie extolled, as she lowered her hand and the bra slipped from her 38dd’s, “Are you a breast man?” Her nipples were perched perfectly on top of her globes, begging to be touched. I slipped my hands over her supple breasts and lightly squeezed each nipple between a thumb and my fingers, as she closed her eyes and lightly hummed her. She said ‘Call me later, and we can talk about it, OK? I came here to see you…but I think you know that. I’m just going to head home.’ ‘Sure. I promise.’ I said. We parted and both went to our houses. I waited as long as I could, but I couldn’t wait long. I called her and we talked for a while, and we went out on Friday to dinner. We ate at a small place downtown, which is small enough in and of itself, in the area we lived. We took a walk afterwards and we both were at ease with each other. I. A few days later my status changed from suspect, to witness. Go figure. I had my clothes and staff back, and a half-assed apology. I went over what I had originally told them, and they kept asking if I had seen anything strange or out of place or someone else there."No, for the umpteenth time. I didn't see anyone else, and the guy just said he had gotten complacent, and then he died. No accusations, no finger pointing at who or anything like that," I told the detective who was at my home."And. She sat in her leather chair and looked around as her computer began to whirr and monitors flickered on the wall. She saw a large spray of flowers on each side of her door. One was from "The Five" and the other was from Joe. She stopped and flashed on her love for a moment. Her first thought was whether they might ever "break in" her office as her mind produced a dirty thought. She chuckled at herself and sat up in the crisp leather to configure her email and load websites from a disc she had.
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