To Sally Sue, their tales sounded both revolting and exciting. She vowed that she would never lie with a man unless she was married to him, and she kept the vow.

Then, on her wedding night, she wondered why she'd bothered.

She found herself treated like a piece of meat thrown to the dogs!

Sally Sue realized Bob liked beautiful things. If they were walking and a classic Rolls-Royce came down the street he would freeze like a statue and watch it out of sight. He would linger at the window of an art gallery gazing at the paintings displayed and comment softly. And if a pretty girl in miniskirt or hotpants passed, he would invariably watch her out of sight. While another woman might have been intensely jealous, Sally Sue never was. Bob was hers, and she was supremely confident she could hold him, and secretly she wanted a man who knew beauty when he saw it.

Their marriage was simple. She had no family at all, and Bob's people were thousands of miles away. The court clerk and bailiff were their only witnesses. But the limber, beautiful girl had planned carefully for her wedding in advance, no matter how humble it might be Aware of her future husband's love of beauty and sensuality, she had secretly bought the most daring nightie she could find.

It was gossamer thin, fringed with delicate lace, and in two pieces. The top came barely to her dark-thatched pubic mound, and the bottoms – if they could be called that – were tiny bikini step-ins. The garment was no more concealing than cigarette smoke, but she was sure Bob would like it, and in a small way it would be making up to him for the many times Sally Sue had put him off and left him frustrated during the months of their courtship.