I thought of every idea in my sick, twisted, demented, voyeuristic mind could think. Each of those times after careful consideration none of the plans...I imagined could have worked. After almost two years of my mind pondering her nude body as she showers or lies in her bed masturbating I couldn't handle it anymore, something had to happen. One night around nine I had to take something to the shed and walked right past her living room window to get there. The kitchen light was on and there she. I quickly tried to pull my thoughts back to the present as I felt a flush heat my cheeks. I would have to remember to ask Jane how I found myself nestled in bed. As I approached the small dining table, my father rose to greet me. He was dressed well and wore a half-smile upon his usually tight lips. ‘Good morn, Morgane. I hope you slept well. Had I known that you were ill last evening, I would not have come so early this morning.’ So, that was what Jane had told him. She was definitely a. More

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