"Now there'll be none of that," she shook her finger at me. "You'll be needing to make yerself presentable. We've had yer best suit cleaned and ready ...er you. Now get in there and stay until yer called for," she pointed to the suites second, unused until now, bedroom. I probably forgot to mention that because of out extended stay and the band's increasing popularity the hotel had upgraded most of us to three-room suites. Kind of a waste if you ask me since we all ended up in the same bed anyway. 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. The Fosters have lived next door for as long as we have lived in our house. Their master bedroom window looks down into my bedroom almost perfectly. I found. More

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