I was buttoned into a white, long-sleeved peasant blouse, trimmed with lace on its' Peter Pan collar and cuffs. It buttoned up the back. My skirt (M... skirt!) was a colorful, multi-tiered affair, with lace to match the blouse on the five tiers of the skirt. Because of the petticoat underneath, the movement of the skirt was always in the bottom of my line of sight, which I knew would remind me of my plight at all times. Finally, I was led out into a sitting room. However, before I got there,. A college friend whom Anna had reportedly done very scandalous things to. He watched her, feeling like a new puppy in the big, bad world, cast in the shadow of her easy exuberance. A rich, horny new puppy. They were both already a bottle and a half deep into some cheap white Zinfandel when she’d plopped herself into his lap, her glass of bubbly, tipping in hand. “Let’s be somebody else tonight,” she said. He took the glass from her and gave it a sip. “Who?” She leaned in close to him. “Free. More

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