Sisters Of Eden - Sex Stories

Sisters Of Eden

... Sister,” I said, my mind genuinely unable to comprehend any of what she was saying. “If you have known all this, why on earth do you suggest I should consider becoming a novice?” Sister Felicity reached over and placed her hand on Sister Theresa’s knee. With one movement she gathered the rough black cambric of Sister Theresa’s habit and began to draw it up her legs. The first thing I noticed were the surprisingly sexy black pumps with four inch heels that Sister Theresa was wearing on her feet, and as the skirt of her habit was pulled higher still, the sheer, barely black nylon stockings that were encasing her firm, shapely legs. “Sister Theresa has exquisite legs, doesn’t she Leanne?” said Sister Felicity. For all my bravado of the past two years, at that precise moment I barely knew what to think or where to look. “You can say it, Leanne. We all know what you are actually thinking.” “Yes, she does,” I murmured. “They are lovely.” And they were. The higher Sister Felicity drew the material, the more my eyes were drawn to the legs underneath. I could feel the familiar tingling sensation beginning to take hold between my legs once more. “Here at Sisters of Eden we demand total honesty, Leanne,” Sister Felicity said. “And you are going to start giving it. Are we clear?” “Yes, Sister Felicity,” I said, nodding. “You have been having wild sexual fantasies about other women for some time now, haven’t you Leanne.” “Yes I have, Sister.” “And some of those fantasies have involved ...

... Sister Theresa, haven’t they.” I watched as Sister Theresa crossed her legs. The skirt of her habit slid further up her thighs, revealing the delicate lace tops of her stockings. Sister Felicity’s fingers began to glide lightly up and down the firm contour of Sister Theresa’s thigh. A wicked tingling was taking hold between my legs and my mind was filling with sex once more. “Many of them have, Sister Felicity,” I replied. Sister Theresa smiled, her eyes intently fixed on mine. “You’re wanton, aren’t you Leanne.” I nodded. “Say it!” ordered Sister Felicity, harshly. “I’m wanton, Sister Felicity.” “You are a wanton slut who can’t stop thinking about sex with other women. Say it.” “I’m a wanton slut who can’t stop thinking about sex with other women, Sister.” Between my legs I was beginning to flood. Sister Felicity’s words and the provocative sight of Sister Theresa’s exquisite legs wrapped lightly in sensuous dark nylon were taking hold of my mind and driving my most basic need to that place it always loved, and longed, to go. The room, which was bathed in a low, flickering lamplight, seemed to reflect the carnal thoughts that were darkening my mind deliciously and possessing it. “Your mind is a hot, insatiable chamber of sin and desire, isn’t it Leanne,” Sister Felicity continued, her voice now low, husky and teasingly provocative. “Even now, the need you feel between your legs is consuming you. It is a raging fire of relentless hunger, craving to be satisfied.” My heart was ...