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That was not likely to happen very soon, but it could eventually become a problem. I seemed to be in the best position to flank the other guys, so I started looking for the best way to do that. Pete was at the far end of our skirmish line so I yelled, "PETE, CREATE A DIVERSION!"Pete didn't bother to answer me directly. Instead, he started pumping bullets at the other side, and they all began shooting back at him. I figured that was the best diversion I could get, so I bent low and ran as fast as I could to the next crate on my right. I made it without drawing fire, and that told me that we were dealing with a bunch of amateurs. Pete was still doing his thing, so I dashed to the next crate. Still no reaction against me, so I ran to the third crate.This put me far enough around that I was able to follow a line of crates to get behind the terrorists. Once there, I was able to see the backs of five of the eight men. I paused long enough to swap magazines before taking aim at the nearest. Using the light as a beacon Sam fumbled his way across Alison’s yard.Reaching the window Sam cautiously peeked inside. Illustrated beneath the low glow of a flickering TV laid two slumbering forms. Alison and her husband Todd were sound asleep in their own bed.Alison’s long silky hair flowed out across her pillow in a dark wave. Sam couldn’t make out her feminine curves very well beneath the bed sheet, but he knew what she had. A slim, model perfect body with every curve definitely designed to entice voyeurs like him into acting recklessly.Sam took one last carefully look around to see if anyone was in the vicinity. Hunkered down in Alison’s side yard Sam felt more exposed then he was comfortable with. Nestled between two closely built suburban homes the side yard offered no cover to shield the crouching voyeur from the sight of passing motorists.Sam was all too aware this was the kind of activity that got voyeurs like him in trouble. As he watched Alison peacefully sleep besides her.
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Suddenly, the bell rang, and after packing my bag, I stood up with my hands in my pockets to try to cover up for the bulge in my trousers. How Miss Goodsey failed to notice is beyond me. I almost got the feeling, though, that perhaps she was aware of 15 sets of eyes on her breasts.It wasn’t until towards the end of my third year at secondary school that there were any further events in my sexual thoughts of Miss Goodsey (apart from the frequent masturbations over the thought of her body). A rumour spread like wildfire that she had started dating Mr Hazel, the infamous PE teacher. A prematurely balding, violent man, who spat when he talked, which was little, and sprayed you when he shouted, which was often. I struggled to see why Miss Goodsey had chosen him, when she could have had any man she wanted. When my class next had history, Nick, who was the most daring in the class, asked her about the rumours.“Is it true that you’re going out with Mr Hazel, Miss?”Smiling serenely, Miss.

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