That he had served in Vietnam and could track me anywhere. I had my number changed. Within days he always managed to get the new number. Then one nigh... hecalled and told me not to hang up, to hear him out. He was sorry he had been terrorizing me. He wanted to apologize. Could he come over? I told him no way. He asked me to open my curtains and look past the courtyard in front of my building. I did. He was there, on the pay phone at the corner. Staring up at my window. Something about that. The elevator dinged and he stepped out, impatiently waiting for me to follow, I stepped out wobbly, readjusting my dress. He smiled at his handiwork, seeing my frustration at not being allowed to come. I opened the door, and led him into my costly apartment; he barely let me close the door and turn on the light before he grabbed my hand and led me into the bedroom. He started kissing me roughly, pausing only to take of my dress. He smirked at my black lacy bra and matching panties. I looked. More

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