"Would you?" she replied with a touch of nonchalance, "I wouldn't want you not to enjoy yourself on my account." "Why wouldn't I enjoy myself when I'm...with you?" I quipped, trying for a friendly side glance all the while cringing inwardly for how cheesy I sounded, my eighteen year old self was anything but smooth. She just smiled. ---That evening around seven o'clock I knocked on her residence's outer door. Patricia opened it, and behind her Kat's wheelchair rolled out of her room, ready to go.. Like a gentleman, I would walk her to her door, give her a good night hug and kiss, and return to my house.She had continued to feed my voyeuristic fetish by walking in front of her window while wearing the tail or dropping her robe and bending over. Her exhibition escapades were performed while we were getting ready for work in the mornings. There were times I would stand in profile and stroke myself as she sat and put on her makeup. She had decided to turn her guest bedroom into her prep. More

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