Stalking Jessica

But best of all, she has posted some new photos. They are what interest me. I wriggle my hips in my ergonomic chair, take a sip of coffee, and scoot a few inches closer to my desk. The first few images are of her pudgy son, in one of those baby trailers that people hitch to the back of their bikes. He is at the beach, gleefully raising a tiny plastic shovel. Cute, cute, cute, snooze. I click through the images with increasing speed. Finally, I find one that interests me. There is Jessica, in a blue bikini. Her arms are thin and tanned, her belly is as smooth as when she was fourteen, the year we became lovers.