He knew all of the labels people might apply to what he was doing. All of the terms by which they would refer to him, Voyeur, Peeping Tom, Stalker and...because of the age difference, Dirty Old Man and Pervert. None of that mattered to him. He loved Angie. He had loved her for over five years now. He had loved her since shortly after she and her then husband, Mort, had moved into the house next door.Mort was gone now. She'd thrown his useless ass out months ago and was now simply waiting for. It was little more than a tube, cut straight at top and bottom, extending from just above my breasts to just below the juncture of my thighs. And with a tendency to ride up. ‘A mirror folds down from your right,’ he said, when I came to the wig. The wig was beautifully made and fit perfectly. The hair was long, hanging down below my shoulders, When I pulled it on, the transformation was startling. I did not recognize the woman in the mirror. I sat for a moment stunned. ‘The lipstick,’ he. More

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