Did you sleep well?" Where is Mr. Logan?" I demanded, trying to get my new pussycatvoice to mimic a growl. Then I stopped. "What did you call me?" Why, your name, Miss Dixon," he explained. He was trying to keepa straight face, but I could tell he was well aware that I was anewly-minted Miss Dixon."Where is he?" I demanded, ignoring his amusement.The doorman hurriedly moved to open an oak door. "Right this way,Miss Dixon."I'll Miss Dixon him, I thought to myself. Just wait until I getall of this straightened out.I pushed by the oh-so-helpful doorman and barged into Mr. Logan'soffice. He was sifting through a rather large stack of paperswith his eyes focussed on them. "Please be seated, MissDixon. I'll be with you in a moment," he murmured."A moment my ass!" I yelled. "What the - "Suddenly, I was unable to speak. Not even a squeak came out of mymouth. And just as suddenly, I felt a firm push from the very airin front of me, causing me to fall back into a soft chair. Atleast I presume. I was so horny by this time that I had to go and have a wank in the shower, while I tried unsuccessfully to keep the image, and the feel, of Casey’s bikini-clad body out of my mind. Another odd thing happened about two weeks later, when Casey and I were at home alone. I was in the family room on a Saturday morning, and Casey had asked me to watch her latest baton twirling routine, and give my opinion, because she had a tournament coming up. Now that she was a curvy little sixteen-year old, watching her routines was no longer the chore it had been in the past, and she carried her portable CD player into the room, to provide the backing music. “Ready?” she said. I nodded. Casey walked to the middle of the floor, in front of the TV set, and said, “Don’t start the music yet. I just need to do a few stretches first, before I get started.” She turned her back to me, and it was only then that I noticed she was only wearing her hot pink practice leotard, with no shimmer tights. I could.
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