“Stop it!” She urged. “Please. This is a sin against God!”
Her voice was weak – a clear indication that her desire was the contrary. Suddenly, our lips brushed themselves like the shoulders of by-passers walking in an opposite direction. Her lips were full, moist and warm. My mind wandered to a view some people had – that the female genitals often mirrored the lips on the face.
Oh my God! My penis sprang up down south. My breathing intensified. Her nipples engorged to meet my eyes. I saw them press her dress from within with the ruthless violence that only this kind of passion knew.
“I’ve always wanted you,” I muttered into her ear.
She staggered to the wall.
“Please stop,” she said in a shaky voice. “My knees are weak”.
I edged to her, but suddenly stopped. I’m not a rapist. I wouldn’t do a thing if she was against it. However, out of nowhere, my penis urged the blood in my veins to instruct the muscles of my hands to reach out and grope. And grope, they did!
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Your boobs are so soft.”
She moaned into my ear, while I caressed the pair of succulent twins on her chest. Her breath was hot with desire, her voice, tuned to the right note of pleasure.
“What if they find out?” She moaned in my ear.
“I won’t tell a soul,” I promised.
At this point, I would have promised to make it snow in the Sahara if she wanted to hear that.
“Please,” she gasped, pulling my head to her breasts. “Let this stay between us. Please.”
Of course, I thought. “Of course,” I gasped. “I swear!”
I began the task of stripping her off the dress. It felt like thirty-three light years.
“Help,” I requested. “I can’t undo this outfit. I‘ve never been with a nun before”
Reverend Sister Francesca tore off the nun apparel from her body. I moped at the large breasts that lay like a pair of watermelons awaiting my lustful appetite. Her breasts were stuffed up to the brim with intense eroticism. The nipples were stout and stood erect like a pair of stumps in the ground. In a flash, I launched at the succulent breasts and it was not long before I became confused between eating them up and rolling my head all over.
“What are you doing?” someone hit me. “What are you doing?!”
I turned to the voice. It was my wife. Then, I turned to what I was doing. I was biting my pillow while at the same time, trying to suffocate myself with it.
Dammit! I smiled sheepishly.
“Emm…emmm,” I stammered, wiping my eyes. “I was eating bread in my dream.”