She still had her leather outfiton. "Alison, I have your collar. You should be wearing it."She smiled, came over, lifted her hair, and turned around, ...ffering meher neck. I snapped the collar in place, holding the lead in my hand."Bend over." She bent slightly. "No, over." She bent further. I pulledon the lead when she got to the angle I wanted, and she stopped."The collar says you've been a good girl and deserve to be fucked.You're actually a bad girl. Do you know what bad girls get?" Fucked?". A convertible coupe was just like her. When I knew her the first time it was a Triumph Spitfire. My ex- reported that she like to ride with her skirt up around her waist and no panties to give truckers a thrill. I wasn’t driving trucks in those days, dammit! Al’s hair was a lot longer than before, and I could see that the surgeon had been a great artist. Al always was well proportioned and "statuesque," but top-heavy. Now she was about as perfectly figured as could be imagined, with cleavage. More

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