She’s always looked like this while she’s sleeping. Her eyes are closed and laying her lashes on her cheek, her hair spread out around her head, her pale skin perfectly flawless, like she’s a little sleeping china doll.
She looked like that even back then, though she used to wear shorter skirts and she hadn’t filled out her shirt. But her legs always looked like that, long and strong and tempting. They always taunted me, hiding their tops under that little skirt, but she fell asleep on the couch, and the damned skirt didn’t hide anything.
She was wearing lacy little pink panties that covered too much of her. I tried to get them off, but she started waking up and she’s quiet, but you know she wouldn’t have been quiet about that. She’s just like her mother.
She looks nicer than usual today. That collar I bought looks nice on her throat, and it matches the outfit I put on her. The guys can look, but they’d damn well better not touch; I’m the one who takes her home, and I’ll be the one who gets to keep her. She belongs to me.