God, Please Don't Hurt Me, Part 3

by Joanne

Since my favourite nun, Sister Mary, the blood sister of the goddess next door, had released me from my sexual guilt, born out of ten years of catholic indoctrination, my life had improved beyond measure.

My love making with my three-year-old sister has become much more loving and relaxed, but no less exciting for that. I was still in love with Julie next door. I didn't know what, if anything, Sister Mary had told her, but she was aware of me and would wave up to me whenever she saw me at my window. I was always there in the mornings as she went to work. Whether she knew that I had my hand down my panties at the sight of her or not, I didn't know. I was teased by even more flashes of thigh and deeper and more exposed cleavage, but whether this was for my benefit or whether she was fucking someone at work I didn't know either. I preferred to think it was for me.

I was seeing more of Sister Mary since that first meeting, she was always calm and smiling. She looked so fresh faced and smelled so clean that I felt safe and happy in her company. I was able to tell her about anything, with no fear or embarrassment. She would laugh when I talked about her sister. She would always say, “Sweetheart, I keep telling you, she is straight,” I know, I know,” I thought, “but, somehow that made her even more desirable.” I was having regular sex, but still, I craved the merest glance of her panties. I was wet every single morning just to see the way her bottom wiggled and the heaving of her breasts. I would finger myself to sleep dreaming of her ravishing me.

Christine, my sister, would come to my bed several times a week. Our lovemaking had become much more sensual. I would caress her lips with mine in long gentle kisses, unhurried, but electric in their effect. My pussy would weep at the touch of her. I would breath in the aroma of her, her hair, her body, her sex. When our passions took over, lovemaking became hot, energetic, urgent, rising rapidly to a climax. She was never there when I woke up and she she didn't always come to me, even at three, she had a mind of her own.

My talks with Sister Mary had become much more of a conversation, a two way conversation and less of a confessional. She told me a lot about herself. She was five years older that her sister Julie. Remembering what she had told me when I first confessed to her, I asked her if she was bi-sexual. What she told me was that she wasn't bi-sexual, or homosexual, or heterosexual, she was just, sexual. She could be aroused by anybody and often by nobody, as a nun she would most often make love to herself. She didn't like labels, people were people, they just had preferences. If they preferred oral sex, that was no more important and if they preferred milk in their coffee. I found this attitude refreshing after the attitude of all the other nuns I had ever known. I had never thought of nuns as being human, never mind sexual.

My father was a salesman and was often away for many days at a time. On his return Christine would throw herself at him. She would sit on his lap as if she hadn't seen him for years and cuddled up to him. He would call her daddy's little girl and hugged and kissed her. I never resented this, but I didn't understand it either. Was it me, was it because I was a lesbian, I didn't know and didn't care. It left more of my mom to me. As far as I was concerned this was a happy arrangement. I would take my mother over my father every time. I told Sister Mary about this 'daddy's girl' thing and she asked me if I was sure that I didn't resent it. “Yes,” I said, “I am sure, but I don't understand it.” She went on to tell me her story.

Her earliest recollection was sharing a bed and sexual activity with her parents. She told me that it was commonplace. That babies were, in the early stages, in the parents bedroom and would wake demanding food in the middle of the night, often in the middle of parental sex. A baby will suckle on anything. Presented with a nipple, it will try to feel. Equally, presented with a clit or with an erect penis, it will still try to feed. She had been taken into her parents bed at first to feed but, from then on, to take a full part in their lovemaking for as long as she could remember and until she lost her parents to a car smash at five years old. She and her sister were brought up by their aunt, a devout catholic. She believed that she was present when her sister was conceived. She would often be playing with her mothers nipples or sat straggled across her face as her father fucked her.

I sat there shocked at this revelation. She saw my expression. “I am not saying that this is why your sister is so much closer to your parents than you are, or why she is so sexually advanced at three years old, but it is a possibility and I do have personal experience of this.” It was certainly food for thought. Christine never came to my room when our father was at home. I had always just put that down to fear of being caught.

I understood Sister Mary a lot more now and found myself fantasizing about her as I made love to myself at night. More and more, her younger sister, without me even noticing, moved into the fantasy background. One night, when my father was away, I had just satisfied myself imagining what lay beneath Sister Mary's habit. I went to the toilet and as I returned to my room, I peeked round Christine's door, she wasn't there. I wondered if she had gone to my room when I was in the toilet. I looked, but she hadn't. I listened, my ears straining against the silence. Then I heard a faint gasp. I approached our parents room and listened. There was the faintest groan. I thought of an excuse and walked in.

What I saw shocked and aroused me. My mother was laid on her back. Her legs were spread wide and her knees bent. I was struck by the size and the hairiness of her pussy. I had only ever seen small and very smooth pussies before. I tore my eyes from it and saw Christine sat straggling mom's face and playing with her tits. She had her thighs clamped against mother's ears. Mother was too busy sucking at Christine's pussy and rubbing vigorously at her massive clit to know that I was there. She couldn't hear and she certainly couldn't see. Christine waved me over. I went close to mother's pussy. She was rubbing her clit and circling her cunt with her other hand. As I touched her hand with my hair, she grabbed it and pulled me into her pussy. I clamped me lips around her swollen clit and suckled on it. Her thighs closed around my head. I tasted her. Her taste and her aroma made my head spin. I was intoxicated.

I reached up and pressed my hand at her cunt. It opened easily and my small hand slipped into her. I found her special place and teased it with my fingers. Her thighs trembled against my ears and then flew apart suddenly and spread to there widest. Without warning she ejaculated a powerful stream of sexual juices all over me. In my mouth as I gaped in surprise and wonder. All over my face and down my naked chest. My hair was soaked with it. I looked up at Christine, she was grinning. She had known what was coming. As Christine climbed off her, Mother held open her arms invitingly. “Baby, come here,” she said. I clambered up her and was taken into her arms. I suckled on a tit and for that all too brief a moment, I was a baby again.

Sister Mary had been right. There had never been any danger of discovery when I was making love to Christine, mom and dad had known about it all along. Suddenly and again without any warning, all I wanted was Sister Mary. Not Julie anymore, I had woken up from that dream. My new love was even more impossible.