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Shaking out the gown, I pictured Miss Scarlet modelling it for an approving Sir Henry. She’d do a twirl, her eyes lighting up as he moved closer… “Anne? What are you doing?” Mother. Laden with costumes and shaking her head. “Didn’t you mend that?” Shamefaced, I snatched up a needle and cotton while mother, seeing the panic in my eyes, refrained from shouting. I hurried across to the sewing bench, turned up the oil lamp and began stitching. I worked fast, ensuring the repair was invisible. Quickly done, I draped the gown over my arm and hurried away. I was out of breath by the time I’d wound my way back to Miss Scarlet’s dressing room. My corset dug into my ribs as my chest heaved and I had to take a moment to steady myself. I hadn’t been gone long, but I’d kept Miss Scarlet waiting. She’d be cross with me, for sure. Bracing myself for a tongue-lashing, I knocked quietly and ventured in. Miss Scarlet wasn’t there. Swallowing hard at my lucky escape, I sought the best place to display. “Yes, I thought maybe I’d get you one thing, but then Ithought of something else. You know, sometimes it’s justso hard to decide,” I rambled aimlessly on, and then satdown, spread my legs wide and applied shaving cream downone side of my lips.I could hear Lyssa breathing just a few feet away, but Ididn’t look over at her.Gently, I ran the razor along, taking off what almostnon-existent stubble there was. Then I rinsed off andput more cream along my other side, turning now so I wasalmost facing Lyssa.Our conversation had ground to a halt. I was so turnedon I almost didn’t have to rinse off, but I did, slowlyrunning my hands over myself, being sure every fold wasfully clean. I slowly ran my fingers all the way frontto back and forwards again, raising my eyes to look atLyssa. She was staring at my pussy, open-mouthed andbreathing hard.I coyly closed my legs, stood up and did a quick all-over rinse. Stepping out of the shower, I toweled myselfoff not.
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