She missed them. The big question was whether she wanted to come back. She had changed from a near-virgin bitch to a slave in a fortnight. I knew she was reeling inside, not knowing what was best for her. Was it best to stay in LA and finish college? Or, to return to us?As we drove and talked, Lisa absentmindedly fingered the leather collar around her neck, the symbol of her situation. That collar had caused her embarrassment, stern glances from passerbys, questions from those too selfish not to intrude on her life or too aroused by the sexual thoughts of Lisa’s servitude to restrain themselves. But, it also had brought her pleasure, a sense of sexual security and belonging, such as when a chain attached to it coupled her to my bed at night. It was a constant reminder of those activities which she loved.Shortly after she came with us, I realized I had missed the so subtle signals she had given when we were dating, signals saying she wanted to be taken this way. Only when she saw Andy. She was cute, to say the very least. At just over 5 foot 4 inches tall, she was slim and her boobs were a perfect 32B cup. Her almost black, short page boy hairstyle made her look a little tom boyish but it suited her so well. To be honest, she was stunning.Even though she was still some way off, I could clearly see her nipples pushing hard through her tight dark blue T-shirt. My gaze quickly dropped to the hem of her short black skirt. It must have hung no more than two inches below her white cotton gusset. I quickened my pace and my thoughts became increasingly obscene as she saw me and waved.I was soon standing in front of her and my bag fell to the ground as we kissed. She continued leaning against the railings and smiled nervously before widening her stance a little more. Her legs were now almost two feet apart but even then, she still somehow managed to appear casual. She softly bit her lower lip as she felt her already crimson cheeks beginning to burn. Thoughts spiralled.
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