"Good," said Jackson, walking briskly to the office door and locking it, then pulling down the window blinds. He turned, and motioned to Jennifer. "Yo... first," he smiled, "Strip down to your underwear." Jennifer stood up nervously, flushing deeply, and discarded her smart suede jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on her chair. Next came her blouse, her fingers trembling slightly as she unfastened the small buttons down the front, then pulling the garment off her shoulders and placing it on. . pat... pat..." whispered the quiet sound of bare feet on the concrete floor outside my bedroom. 'Eee...' the moan of protesting hinges desperately in need of oil. Then came the barely heard footfalls upon my bedroom carpet followed by the whisper of clothing hitting the floor. I knew who it was and why she was in my bedroom. She wanted to torment me yet again. I had been home a little over four weeks and damn near every night or early morning sneaking into my bedroom to tease me with her. More

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