The Stalker
When I entered my teen years I started to work out alot along with masterbating. My bedroom was large enough that I able to put a work out bench in there. I wanted to get buff, you know, in the hopes that I would attract lots of women wanting sex. As I worked out I would get the feeling of being watched. Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of a shadow in the upper window of the next door house. I assumed that Mr. Foster might be spying on me and that he might have some kind of fetish for me. ...