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Jacob meets the Mother of all succubi.

He saw his daughter coming up the walk, but was not expecting to see her being propped up by an extremely tall young black man he immediately recognized as one of the university's basketball players. Jaime was in a short black skirt and a belly shirt that didn't leave much to the imagination, and she was carrying her high heels in her hands. Not wanting her to think he had been waiting up for her, he flipped off the television and slid into the shadows in the corner of the living room. He was listening intently to their muffled conversation outside the window as Jaime fumbled for her house keys.

"Are you sure it's cool?" he heard the young man ask. "Trust me," she giggled, "he sleeps like a log, and he snores so loud you could shoot a gun off in here and it wouldn't wake him. Here, help me out." A few seconds later, the door lock clicked and the door swung open. "Now be quiet," Jaime hissed at him drunkenly. "The steps aren't noisy if you walk on them slow, and my room is right at the top of the steps." Jay didn't know what to do, jumping out now and interrupting them would certainly cause one hell of a scene the next day, but he also knew that her intentions weren't necessarily pure either. The debate raging in his mind was short-circuited by movement on the steps as the 5'3" Jaime led the at least 6'6" guy up the steps slowly. He instinctively huddled into the corner being careful not to breathe too loudly. His heart was practically beating out of his chest and he realized that if he didn't say anything soon it would be too late. He ran out of time to make a choice however, as they reached the top of the steps and quickly shut the door to her bedroom.

Now, short of breath and with his head swimming, Jay found himself on the edge of a slippery dilemma. On one hand Jaime had the right to live her own life. On the other hand, he felt a responsibility to protect his daughter. And yet, there was something else, something he couldn't deny. He was excited. His ragged breathing told the tale, and he realized that it was a pivotal moment. He could either march up there and ask the guy in his daughter's bedroom to leave, and face the music in the morning. Or he could do nothing. But nothing was not what he felt himself doing in the next instant. Rather than marching up the steps, he was quietly sneaking on to the patio. Being careful not to be seen in the dim light outside, he stared up at Jaime's window. No lights were on, but the streetlights showed that her curtains were open slightly in the middle.

He couldn't fight the desire inside him to see what was going on inside that room. Jaime's window opened on to the roof over the back porch. Moving like a burglar, he crept across the patio, and climbed on to the three foot retaining wall at the other end. Here he could actually climb on to the porch roof, and hopefully he could shuffle across the shingles quietly enough to see what was going on inside the room. After what seemed an eternity, he was finally close enough to take a small peek inside the room. All he could see was Jaime's closet door. He would have to sneak closer if he really wanted to see inside.

Before he could debate that, a light flipped on inside the room. The sudden flash caused him to start backwards and almost fall before he regained his balance and quickly hit his stomach on the roof. He could feel the grit of the shingles under his hands and knees as he tried to catch his breath. Still, barely a sound could be heard. He realized now that he had a slight edge. She wouldn't open the window in this heat, because the house was air-conditioned. And with the light on, as long as it stayed on he thought, they wouldn't be able to see what was outside the window.

He crawled forward slowly, realizing that if he was caught he'd have some serious explaining to do.

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