Soon he would mount her and begin thrusting inside, just as God had intended. Once in a while she was able to let herself go; to immerse herself in the sensations. Sometimes the angle was just right and she felt his penis rub on her clitoris. Sometimes she even moved and shifted her pelvis to try to get that wonderful contact but even then it was usually over too quickly. She knew it was wrong but the best—the only times—she'd been able to actually soar to the gates of heaven had been when she let her mind drift back to the manipulation of the young novice who had taken her to the gates of hell. It never ceased to amaze her how the devil had been able to mimic the bliss of that sanctified moment.Rolling on her side she hugged her full bosom feeling her hard points against her forearms. Waves washed over her and her legs clenched together reflexively. She felt the slippery juices being squeezed out onto her upper thighs. She willed herself—forced herself to stop.A tear trickled onto. . rugged looking, and doubled as bodyguards. Winnie especially liked the looks of one of them, a blond Adonis, who looked like he just parked his surfboard against the wall to catch the jet. I told her to keep her pants zippered, unless I was the one unzipping them, or I would have to pick up a couple of loose women from a random shopping mall and invite them to share our shower for an afternoon.I don't think Winnie was particularly anxious to find out if I meant it. Neither was I!The flight to Monaco was just that ... a plane ride. We talked, played, rejoined the mile-high club twice, and slept a lot. When we arrived, I discovered that I was expected to buy a whole new wardrobe, befitting a mega-rich playboy. Winnie LOVED that idea, and we shopped for hours, and hours, and hours, and hours. Winnie only relented when I informed her that Mr. Johnson was threatening to go into early retirement from all the trying on of strange clothing.We spent over one hundred and fifty thousand.
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