I tried to touch it, it was made of soft, yet solid, leather with a sturdy, tight buckle. It wouldn't come off by accident. Marc grabbed me by the c...ollar. "Crawl. We’re on our way." I could have cried at this point. It was so humiliating to be crawling on all fours, led by a dog collar. For the first time, I started thinking about giving it all up, using my safe word, but I couldn't bring myself to it. We left the room and went through the hall. There was a staircase at the end of it. By. ."I miss touching you and how soft that spot near your hip bone is. I miss how your stomach twitched when I stroked it. And I miss tracing my finger on the inside crease of your thighs and feeling how hot your skin felt. I'd ask you if you wanted me to stop...", I paused. "Should I stop now?" No," she said."I'd crawl between your legs and start kissing your stomach and letting my chin slowly rub against your pussy. I could feel you pushing up against it to grind your clit against it. Did that. I had to do something and told Brad so. He understood and suggested that he and I fly to Poza Rica. Perhaps we could help, perhaps not … but it was better than staying here. So, he and I met at the municipal airport the next morning and the same private plane that had whisked Rose away carried the two of us over the Gulf of Mexico. Brad had arranged for a car to be waiting for us and we were soon driving southwest to Oaxaca. We met the investigator at the hotel bar. Even though the bar boasted. She was still prissy, there was no doubt about it, but she proved that prissy could be fun, too -- she poked a lot of fun at herself in the process. Although about as different from the rough, scruffy river guides as could be imagined, it didn't make her any less memorable.In the middle of the week Michelle dropped by the girl's house with her mother's dark blue Plymouth Voyager minivan; somehow it made her seem grown-up to be driving that instead of the Mustang. More stuff that would be needed.