“Sorry Master, I’m really sorry.” Throwing in the title of Master was my idea, nothing like adding to a situation. I found out it wasn’t a goo... idea. Bob reached over and grabbed my ear. “I am not your Master! You have a master, who I’m sure will remind you of that later tonight. You will address me as Mr. Bob. Now get that belt off and undo those pants. You won’t be needing them for a long while, I assure you of that.” I took off my belt while thinking why I just didn’t wear sweat pants that. They returned the Duck and as they started to the car, the rain started. At the car they were both soaked but much cooler. Dorothy's dress wetly clung to her. Through it you could see her brown aureoles and nipples. In her crotch, you could plainly see her matted wet cunt hair, dark beneath her dress. Dorothy knew and drove away as if nothing was different. In 15 minutes her dress was dry and blown back by air circulation. Mike was chatting and feasting on the view. The sky continued to darken. More

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