As I leered salaciously at my beautiful wife, a glimmer in the yard caught my eye, a quick burst of motion out- side, something like the shimmer of a ...hite T-shirt before it ducked down behind the hedge. I shifted on the sofa, trying to find a better angle, wondering if I had really seen anything. An anxious reflection stared back at me. “What was that?” I said softly. Andrea moaned softly and a shiver seemed to caress her body. I tried to look past her, through the reflected. It seemed a cruel irony that pretty girls so often approached him – to ask him the time, or for directions, or any number of other things that to a normal person might be conversation starters – and Bob froze like a hunted animal. Guys he could handle. Older women he could handle … usually … unless he found them attractive … which was actually pretty often. But young women … pretty women … young, pretty women like this one for instance? Forget it. His jaw would drop open, he would feel a. More

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