I took a few steps.Oh the sounds. The clack of heals on the wood floor, the swish ofpetticoats and swaying skirt. All was strange and pleasant. Nothin...prepared me for the feeling though; soft sweater against bare skin,breasts tugging against the chest controlled by bra, and most of allcrinoline against shaved, stockinged legs. I was even aware of theruffled panties rubbing the petticoat. I wanted to stand there and takeit all in. My senses were overwhelmed. Nothing before, or since feltthat. At the moment the sun shone over a thick mist that separated the valley village from the Alps opposite, and, looming far away over them all, was snow capped Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in the Alps. This view, and the warmth of the room washing over her, calmed her down. She turned around. Michael was gone. Shaking her head in disbelief and wondering how long she was standing at the window, she shut the door and unpacked a few of her things. On a table opposite the door, she saw a square. More

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