When I was in high school, I earned money mowing lawns for the rich people who lived in Lake Oswego. I always wondered what really happened inside the large homes, if the people were really happy with all their trappings of material success, or if they were (as I suspected) that much more bored. I never found out, but I did learn that even rich housewives like to suntan nude. Through a wooden fence, I could spy through a knot in one of the planks, which afforded a clear view to the neighbor's pool patio. If this were a Penthouse Letter, the story would entail the house wife catching me and then forcing me to have sex to keep me quiet, and it'd be a coming of age story. But of course, that's not how it happened. I watched without being obvious; she never knew. I saw her nakedness and fantasized about her seducing me, and that was all. But it was enough. What I wouldn't give to be that innocent age again, peeking through the fence.
