That evening, he didn't come home. I ran scenarios through my head about what could have happened. Was he hurt? Had he been in an accident? Was he so ...ngry that we were finished? Had he gone to the arms of another woman? My heart ached. My head swam. At 1:00am, I turned off the lights and went to bed. I stripped out of my clothes, and put on his bathrobe. I could smell him in it. It was a comfort, but made me sad at the same time. Would I get to hold him again? Would I feel his tender touch on. We went home and parked our vehicles in the garage. Arlene and I visited the staff mechanic to tell him about the bracket for her Tommy Gun. He came to the garage to look at the one on my motorcycle and stated that he could make a copy for Arlene. However, it would take him more than one day to do everything because of a repair job he was doing on a piece of machinery. Arlene swallowed hard and agreed to the delay. I guess that I should not have been surprised because she was unfailingly polite. She hoped that the weight would expose her by pulling down her panties farenough to show her pussy, then, raising the skirt enough to show her crotchclearly. She admired her image in the mirror, she had purposely made herselfup like a schoolgirl. There was no gag this time. All she could hear was thedistant noises from outside her house. The only warning she got was a suddenwhirring and then her panties snapped down and her skirt snapped up in unison.It was quick and seemed almost violent. One. Was that Heather, her girlfriend from the Library? But she was gloriously naked! Why? And then, before she could make sense of it, she was instantly transported to Imperial Rome. She could almost smell the sweaty bodies in the dust and heat as she was jostled by a large crowd up to a white stone building. A man dressed in an expensive gold trimmed, white toga with curly golden hair was speaking to the assembled throng from the top of a wide staircase. But, in the instant that she recognised.