He leans back, and quickly tugs it off with one arm. We're soon to press our lips against each others again. He puts his hand underneath my-or should ... say his- shirt, and I lift my hands above my head, allowing him to tug it off. He throws it down onto the floor, not taking his eyes off of my face. I waste no time, reaching in between our bodies to unbuckle his jeans, already able to feel him through them. He lets out a deep moan, and kisses my lips more fervently. He pulls back, nipping at my. Some of the recently divorced ladies of good-breeding were desperate for masculine protection and were willing to trade their feminine dignity for steady income and strong hand at the helm in handling uppity servants. I certainly filled that bill, but I found that the vast majority of them to have a low regard for male intelligence and to possess a brain filled with resentment for the other gender.Actually, I found my new replacement in the oddest place of all ... a convent.Sister Angelica was. More

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