Foreword
They haul people up before judges for what you're doing, Stu Post told himself. And sometimes the judges give them nice, long prison terms.
Oh, he managed to scare himself all right. He squatted behind the screen shrubbery, teeth chattering with fear; but the fear wasn't strong enough to turn his head away from the window. His eyes clung to the embracing couple, straining not to miss any nuance of movement that took place on the couch of the dimly lit living room.
The taste of self-disgust was strong in his mouth He knew even before he started the half turn to leave that he would stay to watch the man kneeling before the couch as he undid the last button of the woman's blouse.
After the blouse came off. Post looked while the strange man removed the black brassiere, and cupping one hand around each breast, he buried his face in the deep cleft between.
The woman closed her eyes and, putting her hands on the man's close cropped hair, pushed his head into her breasts more deeply.
Spontaneously Post's eyes closed and a deep groan moved in his throat.