The embarrassed girl felt a little chill as the barn air brushed over her smooth naked belly, and despite herself, she could feel her tiny nipples begin to perk up under the taut nylon of her bra. With both hands, she reached around and unfastened the snap on her Levi's and tugged on the zipper till it whined its way down to her pubic mound. She let the Levi's fall over her hips to her knees, then she stepped out of them, kicking them to top a pile of hay. "Okay, Mr. Dobkins… you can turn around now," she whispered, dollar signs flashing in front of her eyes.

Mr. Dobkins, expecting to see his model dressed in her blouse and panties, spun around, and his eyes popped open wide with disbelief as he gazed at the trembling, blushing beauty standing before him. He sucked in his breath and straightened, inwardly chuckling to himself. God, this girl was something else. From Miss Priss herself to near naked in two minutes… that was fast work. If she went this far on her own… how far would she go if pushed?

He took in her beauty from the smooth unblemished flow of her neck where it curved down to the jutting, ripely formed mounds of her breasts, swelling proudly under the sheerness of her nylon brassiere – to the trim inverted curve of her waist to her full hips swelling to curvaceous perfection and, certainly not least, to her long shapely muscular legs blossoming in firm fullness at her thighs, then again in the supple gracefulness of her well-turned calves. What a hunk of meat! Christ, if he could get her naked and positioned up against the horse… what a hell of a shot! He was staring at dollar signs now. The magazine would pay a fortune for a full page color shot of her! Dynamite! "Jesus, you're gorgeous…"

Mimi stared down at her sandaled feet, her face the color of autumn apples, and just as shiney. "Please, Mr. Dobkins… don't talk like that. Let's… Let's just get this over with… huh?"