She slipped on a coat as she left the house and skipped barefoot to the pavement to wait for the car. I resisted the temptation to watch from the wind...w and I went to bed instead.The sonorous cadences of the Book of Common Prayer marriage service rolled around us as the minister took delight in the theatricality of the language and the all too infrequent chance to use the service. I reflected that the medieval church had it right; you only get to do these things once in your life. The ceremony. The shirt is slightly harder. Remember how I told you I was kind of anorexic looking? Yeah, well they are too. I mean I have a nice build and chest and everything, but sometimes people think I'm too skinny for my own good. Whatever.The shirt is still hard though. We decide that I will wear a really cute shirt of Brittany's. It is black halter top, with a really deep neckline, and a really low back.I never thought I could look like such a slut, but hey, in the States anything is. She couldn't even see the cars parked in front of the building, just vague hints of white mounds. A couple of people pushed through the revolving door, stamping snow off their boots. A wave of cold air swept across the floor, making her shiver."Not even back to the dorms?" she asked the porter.He shook his head. "They don't want anybody out there, ma'am. And quite frankly, I can see their point. Reminds me of when I was in the Air Force and was stationed in Alaska. We had storms like that up. Two souls covered in flesh and skin. Rubbing, grabbing and sucking each other; in this vast world, challenging their mortality at least momentarily.After we reached a comfortable level of intimacy. I asked her whether she would like a massage or not. She agreed. I came prepared with a yoga mat which I spread on the floor. She lay flat on her tummy. I started with toes and made my way up. she had a cute ass which needed moisture and love. I gave both.In fifteen minutes we both were sloppy in.