The author of Behind the Curtain, Club Crème and Country Pleasures takes a wicked delight in teasing the erotic out of the everyday ... all over again. Poppy wants to bring sex back into her marriage by letting her old friend Stella remind her husband how it's done. Suzanne loves her fiancé, but fancies his father more. Florence can't resist her hunky stepson and his skills in the kitchen. Two girls seeking the perfect man on a singles holiday find each other instead. Chloe’s first photography commission not only introduces her into high society but into her first threesome. And as for Sister Benedicta and her novices; It's a jungle out there. Cougars and their sisters stalk in their stilettos through galleries, hotels, convents and shadowy palazzi; or entice and seduce their prey in the scented privacy of their own homes. Their natural habitat can be anywhere from New York, Venice or Amsterdam to Luxor and London. These women are photographers, landladies, travel guides, nuns - even the naughty chair of the PTA. But they're so subtle, sophisticated and sexy that the boys, men and girls, barely know what's hit them.
Sister Benedicta’s cool white hands were already up under Olivia’s sports shirt, stroking up her hot skin, under her bra strap, pressing her breasts, but Olivia couldn’t feel any part of Sister Benedicta’s body. As they sucked on each other’s tongues she fumbled with her habit but all she found was endless buttons and folds and hooks and swathes of material, and she started to rip at it.
‘Stop, my little cherie, stop. Don’t rip it!’ Sister Benedicta batted her away. ‘I can’t go back into the convent naked!’
Olivia felt as if a bucket of cold water had splattered over her. She let go and rolled on to her back. She was shivering with excitement and frustration and fury. A pulse was throbbing between her legs. ‘Why the hell do you want to go back into that prison, anyway?’
‘Open your eyes. Watch me, Livvie.’
Sister Benedicta was kneeling above her, blocking out the sun, and for a minute Olivia was dazed, but then she saw that with her long pale fingers her nun was undoing her buttons. Tossing aside the bib that covered her front, the apron, exposing more buttons round her neck.
‘Let me do these ones.’ Livvie knelt up behind and undid the endless tiny buttons down the back, and pulled her dress down, then unlaced the undershirt, and underneath that were surgical-looking linen bandages, binding and flattening Sister Benedicta’s chest.
Sister Benedicta turned round to face her. They were both shaking now, even though the sun was back, still fingering them. Livvie’s knees were buckling. Her pussy was weeping into her knickers. She took hold of the hideous grey bandages and forced herself to take it slow. The nun’s mouth was open, her white teeth biting into her lip, as Olivia unwound the cruel covering. Her own breasts bulged and swelled with excitement and then she whipped away the last bandage and there were Sister Benedicta’s breasts, firm and pale and soft, her nipples slowly changing colour from pale pink to an urgent, dark, red.
‘Let me, now,’ whispered Sister Benedicta, and much more easily she pulled Olivia’s shirt off, saw her breasts bulging out of her bra, unhooked that quickly, and caught her breasts as they fell into her hands. The two women knelt in front of each other on the grass, feeling each other’s breasts, their breath coming in uneven gasps of longing.
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