Chapter 1
Sister Anne smiled as she watched the boys play baseball. It always gave her great pleasure to see them have fun, to engage in healthy, body building sport, sport which enobled the mind and the soul as well, developing team spirit, cooperation, the will to succeed, and other virtues too numerous to mention.
"Come on! Show them where you live!" Little Tommy called out to Ed, who swung the bat standing hunched over the plate, glaring at the pitcher. Tommy was at second, waiting to run to third.
"Where you live!" The words echoed as a haunting refrain through Sister Anne's mind. "Where you live!" How poignant and how sad! For all of these boys, all eighteen of them, and the spectators as well, diverse boys they were, from many different backgrounds and nationalities, but they all shared one thing in common, and that was where they lived. They all lived at Saint Mary's Orphanage in the city of Cool Valley in the State of Illinois.
Ed swung and the ball whistled past him, slamming into the catcher's mitt with a hard plop, as though sinking into a deep pool. The sound gave Sister Anne a start, and a peculiar sensation, one which she had been feeling more and more lately, began to percolate up from that region between her legs, that particular region which she tried not to think about. But the harder she tried, the more it entered her mind, as though by forcing it out she only welcomed it in.
Think of something else! This advice the Mother Superior had given her, and it was obvious, the right thing to do. Spend less time alone, get involved, get out, work with the children more. Yes! That was the right thing to do. Whenever evil thoughts started to enter the consciousness it was only because there was a void there which permitted them to enter. Eliminate that void!
Sister Anne concentrated on the game, trying to eliminate the evil feelings. She watched Ed, as he swung the bat, waiting for the next pitch. It was easy to watch Ed. Sister Anne liked him a lot. She taught him geography, and he was a smart boy, willing and in fact eager to learn. He was also very handsome. Although only fourteen years old, he already appeared to be quite a young man. His dark hair and serious features, complexion slightly swarthy, nose a little too long perhaps, but that, she had been told, was the sign of intelligence. It was also the sign of passion-a big dick. No! Where had that thought come from? Sister Anne never thought about such things. The devil must have sent it! Eliminate such thoughts. Watch the game.
"No hitter! No hitter!" They yelled, but Ed only gripped the bat harder and concentrated the more. It was two balls. Two strikes. One man on. Two outs. Top of the eighth.
Sister Anne's eyes watched him closely, and saw his muscles ripple as the horsehair ball crossed the plate and he swung.
She saw the sweat fly off his brow. She heard the bat connect with the speeding ball, so fast. It cracked, a loud knock. She heard the excitement of the crowd, but it seemed to roar like Yankee Stadium as the ball sailed high into the air, but not too high, not too high to interfere with its distance, for it kept traveling and traveling, and was still in the air, somewhere, flying like a bird, as Tommy rounded third and headed home. He ran happily across the plate and Ed followed and Sister Anne found herself more excited by this exciting turn of events in the game than she could have possibly imagined. Yes! It was working! Sports was good, sports was great, sports was an ideal way to keep her mind off evil, unwanted thoughts. The excitement seized her as the crowd roared, and then she began to shake as heat zoomed up from between her legs and invaded her whole body and suddenly Sister Anne felt wet down there, a strange sensation, and her whole body seemed to ripple and undulate with pleasure, and she almost fell down, so good did it feel. Yes! Sports was great!
She looked up, barely able to stand. Something had happened, something terrible. The roar of the crowd had ceased. She looked over to home plate and there she saw Ed, lying in a pool of his own blood. This was terrible! Sister Anne raced over to the scene of the tragedy.
"He spiked him! He spiked him sister! I saw it! He did it on purpose!"
"Did not! Did not!"
Sister Anne could see that another fight was brewing, but that was not her concern. The brother would take care of that, Brother Robert, who had been serving as the umpire. But Ed looked to be in a bad way, blood dripping from a wound on the side of his head. Had he been kicked in the head? How horrible! Sister Anne knew that she must get him to the nurse right away.
"Can you stand up Eddie? Can you walk?" She said, bending down over him and trying to help him up. She was afraid that if he bled too much it might be serious, the best thing was to get him to the nurse right away. Maybe he would need stitches.
"Sure. I'm not hurt too bad. It's nothing," Ed said, bravely, but she could tell that he was dizzy, that he was hurt perhaps worse than he knew.
"Come and lean on my shoulder. That's the way Eddie. Lean on me, you're hurt. Yes, that's the way. Come on, I'll take you to the nurse."
"Did not!"
"You did!"
"Did not!"
"Did!"
The two boys were almost at blows, Brother Robert rather ineffectually trying to separate them. But Sister Anne could not help. She had to get the injured boy to the infirmary so, his blood dripping onto her shoulder, this young angel of mercy led him away from the scene of brutality and incipient battle.
Sister Anne was so taken up by this tragedy, by the fear for the boy's welfare, that she entirely forgot about the intense and rather new sensation which had gripped her so strongly only a few moments before, a sensation which she would have known, had she thought about it, was closely akin to those forbidden sensations, those thoughts and feelings of sexuality.
She was young and quite innocent. A few slight incidents, some years previously, committed upon her unwilling, although not unresponding body by an elder uncle, had resulted in her parents committing her to education by the nuns, with the predictable result that Sister Anne grew up prim and strict and very religious, inculcated with the high ideals concerning purity and doing God's will, with the further and equally natural result that she too became a nun.
A good nun she was, much loved by all the children in the orphanage, and taking much pride in her work, confident that she was faithfully doing God's bidding, and content to do so for the rest of her life, undisturbed by sensual, selfish desires. Undisturbed, that is, until recently. For the sexual impulses of a young and healthy girl can only be throttled for so long until they push their way to the surface, threatening to explode. And now Sister Anne felt them. How she felt them!
She felt Ed's body pressing against hers as she led him across the grassy field, and even as she led him through the cool, dank corridors of the school leading to the infirmary. He breathed heavily, with pain perhaps, or perhaps as an effort to banish the pain, like a young martyr, she thought, and really admired his forbearance. His strong muscles pressed against her, and she could feel her skin feel warm there beneath her dark habit. She could smell his sweat, stirred up by the excitement of the game, by the competition and by the physical exertion, and it seemed to tickle her deep within her nostrils, exciting her.
Sister Anne tried not to think dirty thoughts, tried not to desire the boy. But he was such a fine boy in every way, on the playing field, in class, and in his general behavior, praying, causing no trouble, breaking rules, yes, but not maliciously, only doing so with boyish high spirits. This she liked, for it showed that he was a real person.
"Here we are, Eddie, now Sister Ellen will fix you up." Sister Anne said this hopefully. Sister Ellen was the nurse, and had a fair facility for dealing with minor abrasions and cuts, but Sister Anne well knew that if stitches were needed, or a tetanus shot, that they would live to call up old Doctor McCarthy who lived about a mile away. He was a retired physician who took on most of the medical chores for the orphanage, and was frequently called for in such cases.
The infirmary was empty. "Sit here, Eddie and I'll see where Sister Ellen is."
Ed watched Sister Anne glide away in search of the nurse. What a hunk of flesh, he thought. Must be nice, there under that habit.
Sister Anne returned a few seconds later. "No one's here," she said, puzzled, for there was supposed to be a nurse on duty there all day. "Well, I'll do it," she concluded.
She washed Ed's face with warm water and soap, cleaning the wound, and was highly gratified to note that the wound was not deep. The blood and the dirt had combined to make it appear far worse than it was. She noticed that Ed's shirt was torn.
"Are you hurt here?" she asked, touching the side of his body.
"Yes. I'm cut," he said, feeling the pleasure of the woman's soft, feminine hand pressing against him. He felt his cock begin to rise. He had dreamed of Sister Anne's body many times, of how round it was, rounder by far than any of the other attractive nuns, without in the least being fat and chubby, just a real fine figure of a woman visible even under the effective disguise of her unbecoming habit. He knew that she would look just beautiful without it on, and had dreamed many times of how she would look naked, so that now as Ed looked upon her, he could see her, naked as the day she was born, her firm high tits pointing straight at his mouth, her fine ass cheeks pulsating in the bright light of the infirmary, her flat belly, her mound of pubic hair, her juicy cunt! His cock pulsated too, ready for action, as Sister Anne carefully, like a surgeon, removed his shirt and began to wash the wound on his side, just above his waist.
"Ooooh! It hurts!" he said, and it did, but he was experiencing the pleasure more than the pain, for her hands were soft and her caresses felt just fine.
Ed's head began to swim with the lust he was feeling. He was tempted to grab her hand and pull it right down to his cock. He wondered what she would do.
Sister Anne kept on caressing the side of Ed's body even after the wound was fully cleaned. It, too, was but a slight wound just barely bleeding, just a deep scrape really. But her hands could not remove themselves from his body. It was a young body but was already hard as a grown man's and as Sister Anne touched it she felt the feeling grow within her, the feeling of lust and of desire, and this time such feelings were not able to be subliminated, for the body was just too close, too nude, to be ignored. Sister Anne's hand began to travel to new places, touched his chest, his belly, traveled down, lower, lower. Her eyes attached themselves to his crotch, where she noticed a bulge in his pants, and she knew that this bulge indicated desire on his part as well.
"Oh," she moaned in a low tone, a tone of surrender, as her fingers closed around the bulge.
"Oh, yeah!" Ed moaned in a voice equally low, not wanting to startle the nun out of her apparent reverie for fear of scaring her off. It felt just fine, what she was doing to him, especially as her grip tightened on his cock and she began to stroke it up and down.
Sister Anne no longer knew what she was doing. It was as if her mind had dissassociated herself from her body and she now felt herself watching, looking on as though it were somebody else doing these things, things which she had wanted to do for so long.
But Ed could no longer bear to have her caress his prick without having her really caress his prick, so at the risk of startling the nun into full consciousness of the sin which she was committing, he reached down, unzipped his fly, and pulled his prick out, so that it stood up, naked and proud, staring right at the Sister's face.
Her eyes regarded it hungrily. It was pink and seemed to glow and was even bigger than she had imagined. For a young boy to have such a huge dick was something she had not thought possible. Not that it was in actual fact all that huge, but to Sister Anne, who knew very little of such things, it seemed to be truly monstrous.
Her hand seized it again, and felt this time its fleshy warmth, so delicious against the skin of her hand. She rubbed it up and down, feeling it slide delightfully through her fingers, which provided in turn a friction that made his prick jump and quiver with new found life.
Emboldened by her caresses, Ed reached out for the nun. His hand sought for her tits, those fine tits which he had thought about so often. He plunged his fingers against the nun's chest, seeking, and he felt the soft resiliency of her breasts beneath his grasp, bouncing, moving, soft and squishy.
Somehow, the feeling of his hands against her breasts woke Sister Anne to the consciousness of sin faster than stroking his prick, perhaps because the violation of her own body, which all women, not just nuns, are taught to protect, was taking place.
In any case, she reacted negatively, pushing his hand away.
"Stop that!" she protested, a trifle shrilly. "What are you doing? Stop that!"
At the same instant, Sister Anne felt his prick still clutched so firmly between her fingers, and she let it go. But the prick did not drop down. Excited, it bobbed about in the air, tall and stiff as the school flagpole.
But Ed didn't want to stop, he was so excited. He reached for her again, this time bringing his face close to Sister Anne's and trying to kiss her. His young body hungered all over for her tender sexual embrace.
"No! No! Stop!" she cried, fighting him off, pushing him off. Without knowing it, Sister Anne was behaving just like any-teenage flirt, or tease would be a better, albeit more brutal term. Ed knew this, and he behaved precisely as he would in such a situation, pressing his point.
"But Sister Anne, I want you so much! And I know you want me! Please! Just a little kiss!"
His strong young arms circled her and drew her to him and his lips sought her lips, coming closer, closer, so that she could feel his breath upon her face. She tried to fight him off but she did not possess the strength, neither physically nor spiritually, for she, too, wanted him, as much-no-even more, than he wanted her, for he was a man!
He opened his mouth wide and their lips met. Her mouth responded, instinctively, for she had never been kissed this way before, or at least not since childhood, with her uncle, but that was just a bad, fading memory.
Her lips opened beneath his, which touched, pressed; and his tongue probed, forcing its way into her mouth, kissing her deeply and with intense hot passion, his tongue exploring all over her mouth, touching her teeth, her upper palate, her tongue, making her tongue respond, wrapping itself around her, twining together like snakes.
And all the while Ed's hands were exploring as well, fondling her firm young breasts, squeezing them, touching them as hard and forcefully as he could, without hurting her, feeling her flimsy bra give way beneath his probing fingers, lifting it up off her tits so that they bounced free, free to move underneath her flowing habit, free to fill up his cupped palms, free to excite him.
Ed pressed tightly against her, his long, stiff prick digging its way into her belly, pressing ever onward, feeling the heat rise up from her cunt, rise up like an aroma, like a mating call, calling him forward, calling him to come inside.
It was as though Sister Anne had entered a kind of dream, as if she had stepped right out of the real world. Her hands touched Ed all over, touched his hair, his back, his hard body. The feelings which he was exciting in her were greater than any she had ever felt. It was as if everything, her whole life, had been just a prelude, leading up to this moment.
Ed's hands reached down, sought for her cunt, felt the heat there, the soft squishiness, the desire, touched her, fondled her. His other hand squeezed her ass. Ed marveled at how fully developed she was, a real woman, curves all over, just incredible, something to cherish and to hold. His hands squeezed her asscheeks, feeling them give beneath his hard exploring fingers. He touched her as firmly as he could, and he felt her moan silently in his grasp, as though she were afraid to voice the emotions and sensations which he could feel pulse through her, as though she was afraid of waking up, of disturbing this wonderful sexual dream.
"No," she moaned, trying to fight away from him, but Ed could tell that it was just a momentary impulse, just her conscience fighting its way bravely and with great difficulty to the surface, perhaps for the last time. Ed certainly hoped so, for Sister Anne was one woman whom he just had to possess, and soon. She had just turned him on too much, it would not be healthy for him to stop now, he had to fuck her, had to feel her soft quivering cunt slide up around his hard dick, had to drive her wild with lust and fulfillment.
Ed reached below, grabbing her habit, pulling it up, up, higher, ever higher, all the while kissing her, keeping her busy, sensually occupied, until her thighs were available, her upper thighs. And then he raised the habit up above her cunt, above her waist. His hands touched her ass, now covered only by her underwear, the dull, unsexy sort which the nuns always wore. But it didn't bother Ed, for he knew how to remove it.
It was simple: grab it hard, and yank down firmly. Voila! The panties were down, down around her thighs, pulling down more, down about her knees, more, down somewhere about Sister Anne's lovely soft calves, Ed did not know precisely where, nor did he care, for it did not matter to him. All that mattered was that her cunt was not unfettered and ready, nothing in the way of his probing, questing, joyful fingers.
Sister Anne gasped with wonder as she felt the boy's fingers touch her cunt. She had only been touched there in her dreams, and by her mother when she was very young. So this was an entirely new experience. She felt her cunt quiver with excitement as Ed's forefinger jabbed out and came into contact with her clitoris. Her head jerked forward spasmodically and her mouth opened wide, hurling out low grunts of satisfaction mingled with perturbed shock.
While Ed touched her clit with his forefinger, his thumb probed even deeper, feeling along the labia of her cunt. They were loose and juicy, open wide, ready for fingers, for a cock, for anything. The juices were flowing down and out, coming up from the depths of her cunt, lubricating her, getting her ready.
"Ohhhh," she moaned, no longer able to protest, to act the tease, able only to feel the probing fingers and to feel Ed's hot breath as it blew in spasms against her red, excited face, driving her wild.
Ed couldn't believe his good luck. Sister Anne was his! Nothing could stop him now! She was wet and getting wetter, her will was dissolved, sex was all that was on her mind. His fingers, touching her cunt, manipulating and fondling her there in her genital region, these fingers which were none too expert, were nonetheless responsible. These little fingers, five fingers, had replaced, almost instantaneously, all the dogma and religious teaching, all the thoughts of God, which had heretofore guided and directed Sister Anne's life. Five little fingers! Ed laughed silently to himself as his prick jumped wildly in the air.
His fingers were sliding in and out of her cunt without any restrictions now. Sister Anne lay back against the nurse's examining table, totally lost in a world of newly found sexual bliss, and she just let Ed do with her what he wanted. Her habit was up above her waist, and Ed had a fine, unobstructed view of her juicy, red cunt. It looked so fine! The juices oozed constantly out of it, and it was tight, feeling great around his thrusting, hungering fingers. How great it would feel around his shaft he could easily imagine, and he couldn't wait to try her out in that fashion.
"Get up here," he said, urging the Sister up onto the table, where he hoped to lay her down, climb on top, and stick it in. "Come on, it'll be more comfortable."
But these words, the first that had been spoken in several long, hot minutes of sexual play, had quite the opposite of their intended effect. For rather than persuade Sister Anne to submit to the ultimate sexual embrace, they awoke her, as a sudden snap of the fingers to a hypnotized subject, to reality, to what was happening to her body, her mind, and much more importantly to Sister Anne, to her soul.
"No!" she cried, a trifle loudly, protesting in this way against herself as well as against Ed, "Stop! This is wrong! Oh! Oh!" She was virtually whining, covered with shame at finding herself doing such things, at finding herself so excited by carnal emotions, "What's happening? How can this be?"
Sister Anne pushed the young boy's eager hands away from her body, shoved them away repeatedly for he kept on reaching back, incapable of leaving her healthy round body alone, for it attracted him as though it were a physical force like gravity. "Stop that! Stop that!"
The Sister pulled her habit down, but then she realized that her panties were still down around her ankles, preventing her from moving.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, with mounting annoyance, as though it were the devil in the room who had done this to her, rather than her own quite natural womanly desires.
Sister Anne bent down to pull up or pull off her panties, Ed could not tell which.
"Please! Don't," he said. "We weren't doing anything wrong. It's natural. All the nuns do it."
Sister Anne, having pulled her panties up onto her, looked up at Ed sharply at this last statement.
"What have you said, Ed? How can you lie like that? You are adding sin to sin."
"It's no lie. You know I never lie. They all do it." Ed insisted so strongly that Sister Anne was shocked, astounded. Perhaps he was telling the truth!
"Come on, Sister Anne! I've always liked you the best of all the Sisters, but you take it all too seriously. Don't you know that this chastity stuff, this idea of sin, is all out of date? Nobody really believes it any more. I doubt if they ever really did. Even the Mother Superior...."
"No!" she yelled. "That I cannot believe!" Sister Anne had a great deal of respect for the Mother Superior, because she reminded her of her own mother, who was so religious, so pious, so good, who had inculcated in her daughter such strong virtues and morals.
"But you like it when I touch you. It feels good, you know that, and you know you need it. How can anything that is so natural be sinful? How could God design it that way?" Ed was persuasive, but these were old arguments, and Sister Anne had encountered them before, so that her answers came out almost by rote.
"It is to test us, to tempt...."
"Bullshit! Sex is for pleasure, for man and woman to love each other. It gives them a common ground, somewhere to come together...."
As Ed said this he came to her and took Sister Anne in his young, strong arms, holding her tightly. She was so upset that she didn't know what to do, and she could not pull herself away. Her eyes looked down at the floor, but what she saw instead, protruding its way into the line of her vision, was Ed's hard cock, still standing up at full attention, and quivering, asking her for her attention.
Sister Anne gasped with a mixture of pleasure and pain as she took the cock between her fingers and stroked it, watching it move beneath the firm pressure of her fingers.
"Oh, Lord, forgive me," she moaned in a low tone, and then, impelled by some impulse which she could not understand, something half between penance for her evil thoughts and actions, and a pleasurable thing in its own right, thus one of those very actions, the Sister dropped to her knees, as though in prayer, but what she did instead was to take the prick and guide it toward her mouth.
Ed smiled with wonder and awe and anticipation of pleasure as he saw Sister Anne's mouth open wide, ready to receive his hard, horny cock. Her lips were sensuous and full and they looked great, so his cock veritably jumped up and into her mouth. He quivered all over as he felt those same soft lips close upon the head of his cock, and then he almost jumped out of his skin as he felt the nun's tongue slither out and wash across his cock head, licking it avidly and with what seemed to him to be real, incredible passion, passion which he had never expected, or at least not soo soon, from this rather inexperienced and quite frightened, also ashamed, nun, who he knew had never done anything like this before.
"Oh, that's so good," he moaned.
The Sister was certainly a novice at cocksucking, but she evidently possessed an inborn talent, and it was surely coming out now, under the stress and strain of the passion which was racing through her. Sister Anne's head was rising up and down on his cock, falling and rising, as her tongue swirled around the shaft in a manner that was most hypnotic, really driving him wild with pleasure. Her tongue touched the base of his cock and then traveled slowly all the way up, flickering out and kissing the cock in selected spots, surprising him, so that he never knew where the cock would land, adding a real element of suspense to the maneuver so it really felt better. But all the while her lips were pressing tightly about his cock, creating great friction, a fine surface for his cock to travel in and among. But what Ed liked perhaps best of all was when her tongue touched the very tip of his cock very lightly, for that was perhaps the most sensitive spot on his whole person.
Ed touched her head and caressed it through the habit, feeling her hair underneath. How he wanted to rip all of her clothing off and see her naked! But that might frighten her and cause her to stop sucking his' cock, and that was the last thing that Ed wanted, so he decided not to risk it. He just let her tongue and her lips, and her cheeks as well, do their fine work on his masculine tool.
Suddenly he heard footsteps, walking in the corridor. It must be the nurse, he thought, Sister Ellen, coming their way. Now, Sister Ellen he knew had made it with a lot of the guys, although not with him, so he knew she wouldn't be shocked to come upon this scene, although Sister Anne was known as a prude. Sister Anne, though, would certainly be upset to be found in such a position, as as she was so new to sucking and all that followed from it, Ed was afraid that it would set back her sexual development by years, and perhaps forever. So he warned her. (She was too involved in sucking his cock to notice the sound of the footsteps herself.)
"Sister Anne! Someone's coming!"
The footsteps got closer and Sister Anne kept sucking.
"Sister Anne! Someone's coming! Ahhh!" Ed yelled, as he found out indeed that someone was coming, namely himself, as his cock began to heave and spurt, and a heavy load of white creamy come began to shoot from the tip and to fill up Sister Anne's mouth.
This was something that the Sister, who had not known what to expect, really had not expected, hot come shooting hard and quickly into her, almost causing her to gag and choke. But she did the best she could do, swallowing it down, although much of the come gathered at the corners and sides of her mouth.
"Someone's coming ... coming...." Ed man aged to gasp out, as he pulled his still-pulsating and dripping cock from her mouth and quickly plunged it back into his pants, zipping them up to conceal the guilty weapon.
The warning finally penetrated to Sister Anne's sex-fogged brain, and she quickly stood up, just as Sister Ellen walked into the infirmary.
"What is this?" Sister Ellen demanded, in a huff. She had never liked Sister Anne, considered her a stiff prude, and besides, she was greatly jealous of Sister Anne's beauty. Sister Ellen was rather plain and dumpy, while Anne was beautiful, with delicate features, high sexy cheekbones, clean pink skin, a small, pert nose, sensuous lips, and the most rounded womanly figure in the entire orphange, bar none, maybe even in the whole city.
Sister Anne was quick to respond, doing her best to control the emotions which were racing through her mind, a crazed mixture of sexual passion, shame, and self-loathing. "Ed hurt himself ... playing baseball," she wheezed out, looking Sister Ellen straight in the eye. "He was bleeding profusely. I thought he might even need stitches. So I brought him here. Someone is supposed to be here at all times," she directed this barb at Sister Ellen in an attempt, rather feeble, for Sister Ellen was older and on more sure ground, psychologically speaking, "but as you were gone, I took care of it, washing the wound."
"I see," Sister Ellen responded coldly and with a definite hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I see that the wound," this last word almost dripped with sarcasm, "was not so serious as you imagined."
"No, not so serious," Sister Anne responded.
"Well, you may go now. I'll take care of the young patient," Sister Ellen said, ushering Sister Anne out of the room and turning to confront Ed, who trembled with fear.