I never used to think of myself as the kind of person who would spy on his neighbors. But all that changed a few months ago.

My name is Rob Miller. I live in an old brownstone in New York City on the second floor. You know the kind, the ones where your back window faces the back window of your neighbor, with a courtyard in between. Those of you who have seen the classic movie Rear Window understand. In some strange way, while spying I felt like Jimmy Stewart. Only instead of being a wheelchair-bound photographer, I was a freelance writer with too much time on his hands.

It all began quite innocently. As I said, my back window faces my neighbor’s back window. I have my desk set up right in front of the window. I enjoy the afternoon light that streams in on a sunny day. Anyway, directly across the courtyard from me on the first floor lives Tim Macmillan. I don't know too much about him except that he moved in about three years ago, he's divorced with an 18-year old son who lives with his ex-wife in Connecticut, and he works for an ad agency in the city.

Then, there is the obvious. By obvious, I mean Tim's appearance. He's probably about my age, in his early 40s. He’s got brown hair that is graying slightly at the temples. But, still he’s sexy as hell. And he’s in good physical condition. That is obvious even through his designer suits. He's big chested and has strong arms. Not to mention, he’s got a tight round butt. So, I guess he goes to the gym as well.

Most of our conversations consisted of a quick hello or an exchange on the current weather. There never was much more. Then one evening, I was coming home from my evening walk - you see, I walk when I have writer’s block, it helps clear my head. On this night, I notice a moving van in front of his building.
I spotted Tim in the back of the van and casually said, "So, you’re moving."
That's when he informed me that he was not moving out. But in fact, his son, Danny, was moving in with him. It seems the boy was starting college here in the city in the fall. So, he would be living with his dad. I wished him a good night and was on my way.

I have to admit I was curious about what his son would look like. After all, Tim himself was very hot. So, I could only assume that his son would be a sight to behold. I was lost in my thoughts as I entered my apartment. I went to my desk and sat down to work. I looked at the clock and it was three minutes to 7:00 p.m. I'd better get to work. I casually glanced out the window when I saw him. He was pulling back the curtains in the first floor apartment across the courtyard. It was the Macmillan apartment. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Either this was Danny Macmillan or I had stepped back in time and was seeing Tim Macmillan as an 18-year old kid.

Danny was the spitting image of his dad. He had the same brown hair, minus the gray. He had the same basic body shape. But, I’d never seen Tim without a shirt. This kid was topless, with perfect pecs and chiseled abs. His arms