Yesterday, a friend of mine read my story, Sisters, sisters. He said he was a little disappointed, so I asked why. “I was expecting there to be a nun,” he said. Well, never one to disappoint, I immediately started thinking out the following story. Not just one, but two nuns. Hopefully this will be satisfactory!
The rain pattered against the stained-glass windows, tapping intermittently like heels against a cold, stone floor. Sister Anna Grace, close enough that I could smell the rosewater in her dark, curly hair, stared up into my face. The water from her tears was more abundant than that falling from the sky.
“We mustn’t,” I whispered. “Don’t you see? We mustn’t.”
She didn’t take her eyes from mine. Her face, freckles over the bridge of her nose, trembled. But she didn’t look away. “Laura -”
“Sister Mary Laura. Sister Mary Laura, that’s my name. You must start addressing me -”
“Laura,” she said, and I wanted to protest but I didn’t. Instead I pressed my lips together tightly and listened. “I can’t do this any more. You want me, I know it.”
I gritted my teeth. “What I want isn’t important. Can’t you see that?”
I imagined her touching my breasts, a fingertip tracing an electric line around my nipple. Golden candlelight rippling across her skin. I shook my head, hoping to dislodge the image, but I couldn’t. My mind betrayed me. I breathed out my frustration, afraid to make too much noise.
“Then I’ll have to go. I can’t stay here.” She turned away from me and suddenly it was too much.
My voice echoed around the cavernous space, returning to my ears in a lower tone. A man’s voice? God? If it was, I ignored Him.
“No, don’t go,” I said.
She still wept, even as she pressed my naked body against the altar. I kissed away the tears and I kissed her lips. Salty and sweet. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry.” Though I wasn’t sure who the apology was for, Sister Anna Grace or God.
I felt her fingers between my legs, and closed my eyes as they began to massage me. My legs trembled.
“Tell me you want me,” she said as she slid her fingers along my slit, back and forth, back and forth. I could feel the dampness growing, cooled by the air in the chapel. “Tell me you want me. Please.”
“I want you,” I whispered. I reached out and touched her breast, held it so that the candlelight licked the pink nub of her nipple. Then I leaned my head forward and pressed the tip of my tongue against it. It tasted warm and soft. I gulped. “I’ve wanted you since I met you.”
She laughed. “I knew it.” Her eyes held mine as she lifted her fingers, damp with my juices, and sucked each one clean before speaking again. “Command me. Tell me what you want.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Kiss me,” I said, and lifted myself up to sit on the altar.
In a parody of prayer, she knelt before me, her legs tight together emphasising the delta of thick pubic hair. I shivered with the cold on my buttocks, then gasped as she roughly pushed my legs apart and put her head between them. Her tongue lapped at my sex, and I lifted my legs higher. Each flick of her tongue sent a shiver through my body. I felt myself coming close to climax.
As my eyes relaxed and my eyelids flickered, I saw Him. He stood behind her, and off to one side. God. He watched us together. His eyes roved over my body. But He said nothing.
I panted and mewled, and Sister Anna Grace laughed as she used her tongue and fingers inside me, not slowing, not letting me catch my breath. She hadn’t seen Him. As I orgasmed I lost control, gripping the altar tight and crying out so that my own voice filled my ears.
Then there was silence.
As I opened my eyes, I saw Him looking right at me. God started to smile. He smiled and nodded, then He turned and disappeared.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”
Sister Anna Grace laughed and placed her head against my pelvis. “Did you like that?” I held her, and then when I had calmed down I took her hand in mine.
“This was right,” I said, and we both smiled. “Now command me. Tell me what you want.”
Be a naughty nun (or ask her to be one…)
OK, I admit, these nun costumes aren’t much like the real thing. But you wanted a sexy, naughty nun anyway, right? It’s an affiliate link, so if you buy then I get a little bit of commission, but just remember who gave you the idea in the first place!
5 thoughts on “Sisterly Love”
Not being a religious person, the “God” aspect was difficult for me, but you have to push your boundaries sometimes! Thank you Violet 🙂
gotta push them all the time!
Thank you for reading – I’m glad you enjoyed it!