She poured herself a glass of merlot, locked all doors and ran a hot bath in her soaker tub. She unzipped the hoodie and dropped it to the floor and s...ipped out of the baggy fleece sweatpants with the panties as well. The bra straps came down and peeled off her late 40s busom and she spun the strap around to unclasp. She looked down at her breasts, one of the last places on her body where the skin hasn't started to wrinkle. They hung heavy, full and had a slight jiggle with every movement she. As she drew closer, the feeling of dread grew. Why was she so immaculate? Why was she so clean? There was not a spot on her, not a single fleck of semen, not a hair out of place -- at least, as far as I could tell, since her head was hidden under a shroud. A fucking shroud?? What was this, the sixteenth century? Who wears a shroud to a wedding? And why was no-one getting up to use her? Why was she allowed to walk towards the altar completely unspoiled? It wasn't respect for the sanctity of. Most people didn't pass this way. I remember the opening night of the Romea and Juliet play when I thought we would get caught back there.Luckily, Xochitl and Isidora were too focused on each other to recognize us in the shadows.My heart tightened. My slick asshole tingled. My skirt swished around me while my pigtails brushed my shoulders. I wore a scoop neck blouse and a skirt that fell to my mid-thigh. Skirts made this easier.I reached the alcove and the person I hated most waited for me, her. Well, with the storm outside, now seemed an ideal time to dosomething about this situation.I had found some robes in the Captain's cabin that I could use. A bitlong for me, and made from silk so at least they felt good next to myskin. They swept behind me like a dress, even if I wrapped them aboutmyself. So that is what I had put on and wrapped around me, when I leftthe pool to light the lamps in my darkened chambers.The wind outside had begun to howl and moan, I could hear the rain aswell.