
The Voyeur Under My Bed (WMV)
I'd say I was surprised to find a voyeur under my bed but I wasn't. He'd been telegraphing his moves for weeks. First, a stare at my feet; then a cool sniff of my dirty socks; then that afternoon I found him organizing my shoe closet. He obviously was not only obsessed with feet but a foot fetishist of the most persnickety order. So when I heard him breathing...heavily...as in heat...I knew he'd come to consummate his desire for my feet. And I did not "wrinkle" (pardon the pun) under the scrutiny. I played the part he wanted me to play: foot goddess. Let's just say he didn't pay for a front row seat to the greatest show of his life but he got it. And now you have to pay to share the experience.
