Alison was putting salad on the table. She still had her leather outfiton. "Alison, I have your collar. You should be wearing it."She smiled, came ove..., lifted her hair, and turned around, offering 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. She was wearing some of the new things we'd picked up for her that day, and my eyes immediately went to the soft pearl-gray sweater tightly adhered to those spectacular breasts of hers. It had a small turtleneck collar and little cap sleeves, but the way the tautly-stretched light-gray material hugged those large round tits looked absolutely amazing. I could make out the lacy edges of one of her new bras through the material, the heavily-structured undergarment lifting and pushing those heavy. More

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