Aunty Mania Sex10

* * * * * I was hot, irritated and annoyed with myself for being hot and irritated. I had come to Jean’s Halloween Party dressed as a Ghostly Monk in brown cloth habit, a cowl drawn over my head and a brown veil over my face. The room was too hot for such an enveloping costume and the veil was sewn into the cowl, set well back. Either I stripped or I sweltered. Dressed as I was I couldn’t eat, drink or kiss. There had been some indiscriminate kissing earlier on and I was pecked on my veil. I couldn’t strip. Underneath my habit I only wore my boxer shorts. My irritation was compounded by Louise’s absence. She had designed and made the costume I was wearing. She had intended to come as a matching Nun. She hadn’t finished adjusting the costumes when her employers sent her away to sort out some difficulties in a branch office. She should have been back by now. She had rung me on her mobile and instructed me to go to the party anyway. If she could, she would meet me here. She had. Within two hours, I obediently drove home. I changed into something sexy, packed my suitcase, was picked up by Cliff’s chauffeur Antonio and delivered to his corporate jet that immediately took off on its way to Central America. It was all a mysterious, unexpected whirlwind.Just days before, I had become Cliff’s prize from something as benign as a golf game. My usual stubborn, competitive confidence set me up dangerously for the costly wager on the game. I made the bet because there was no way I would lose. Then I did. Stupidly, the stakes I wagered in the eighteen holes were my complete willing submission without limits. It was impossible to know that would include international travel to a remote off-the-grid beach resort on the western coast of Costa Rica.The surprising truth was, I was strangely enjoying it – at least the novelty of it all. I secretly relished being the non-stop flight entertainment for Cliff and the pilot on the short private flight to western Costa Rica. I.
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