"I could, but it wouldn'twork. I mean, you'd think you were doing it because you wanted to. That youjust changed your mind or something." "Uh huh." Sh... tapped some ash into the ashtray.Their waitress appeared then with another beer for Darla. Mike watched herfor a second, as she leaned over the table, then noticed Darla staring at him.She jerked her head ever so slightly at the waitress, a smirk on her face.Like she was daring him. Mike glanced up at the waitress. She was a skinnyteenager with. If I was being honest, I hated myself for being such a shithead and tricking Candy’s brothers into coming over. I hated the fact that I couldn’t help myself. I had more choice putting the collar on than I did in behaving like a bitch if I didn’t do it. I would become a slave to my natural tendency to shit all over anyone who was nice to me. I am a brat and the only times I liked myself recently had been when I was under discipline.I managed to even fuck up the few times I was given a little. The two other men said their goodbyes and went back to their towels in the sand dunes and the old couple snuggled up with their new friend and glamced towards my gf and I and waved and smiled."Whoaw" said my girlfriend. I turned to her and realised she'd put her magazine down and was looking towards to older couple and the lady snuggled up with them naked. My hand still down her bikini bottom, two fingers inside her she was dripping wet. "What a slut" she said to me - looking down at my hand. Whenever she meets a new person, she liltingly offers her hand, palm down, and sighs, "Dauphine." She does it like she's bored to tears with her name. Trust me, she isn't. Her message was, "Pepper, I know you're home. I've just driven by your place and I've seen your car. Meet me at Drag at seven or incur my wrath." Yes, she always talks like that. Like she's a character in one of those lipstick and high fashion pulp novels. I keep expecting her to use the word.