This morning, she was a luxury only she could afford.Her hand started to move further down but then stopped and changed direction, sliding back up to ...lip over the other breast. She closed her eyes and languished in the feel of her own flesh. Breasts were beautiful. Her breasts were beautiful. Her hand slipped up and over one and then up and over the other. Hardening nipples softly scraping against the undersides of her fingers. Then she clutched herself lightly, fingers mashing into her pliant. It had huge gothic windows that let in a green sunlight, filtered through imposing trees.At the centre was an oak desk. It looked like a fortress. Beside it stood a petite woman in her early fifties. Her dark eyes gleamed like chocolate pralines on either side of an almost beaklike nose. Her mouth was smiling, but in a very thin way. She was dressed as a nun, but did not wear the tall sail hat. And although she looked very small and fragile, somehow an immense force emanated from her. More

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