Asian Catholic nun's charity - part 2 - Sex Stories

Asian Catholic nun's charity - part 2

... wrapped around his glory. Sister Mary's brown skin shimmered with sweat as her rosary beads flailed about, bouncing the metal crucifix between her flat stomach and his round, pot belly. His roar announced the massive pulses of cum that jetted from his dick, the power of which consumed the now-shaking Nun. Where moments before she had been giving a kindness to a feeble old man, she now felt helpless and small before a mighty force, his manly grip and irresistible power overwhelming her. An iron hand took the back of her head and pulled her in for a hard kiss, his tongue rasping deep into her mouth. The Nun's senses exploded as his rod, greased by his thick cum, slid even faster inside of her, heating the upper lining of her cunt walls, sparking off an intense, body-shaking orgasm of her own. Gurgling into his mouth, Sister Mary felt as if beams of light were bursting from every cell in her body. Her toes curled, her skin was on fire and she wrapped her arms tightly about the heaving body below her, pulling the fat old man to her as she rolled through the throws of ecstasy. Suddenly she was jerked back to reality as Mr Bishal pushed her away, his strong hands gripping her head like a melon. Bleary-eyed and unable to understand what was happening, Sister Mary could only feel she were sliding down his body when suddenly her mouth filled with his thickness. Slimy with their mutual cum, it caked in a ring around her stretched lips as he forced his meat past her tonsils and into ...

... the back of her throat. Gagging, her throat convulsed around the turgid cock as she reflexively swallowed, allowing every bit of it down. Fuzzy gray hairs mashed into her nose and she could smell his intoxicating musk as he held her there, growling in pleasure as his cock amazingly pulsed again, sending more thick wads of his clotted semen down her throat. She never wanted it to end; the taste, the pressure on her throat, the way her tongue felt forced against his hairy old dick...it was wonderful! For his part, old Mr Bishal would have died happily at that moment if he didn't feel so alive, more so than he had in years. With his dick so wet and throbbing inside this beautiful young girl, the old man felt revitalized and able to face many more days than he had imagined he could. An hour later, Sister Mary emerged from the shabby old bathroom, smoothing her Habit back down; every hair neatly tucked back under her coif and her clothing immaculate once more. Peeking in to the bedroom where she had taken Mr Bishal, she had bathed the sleeping man with a sponge and basin of water, taking care not to disturb the exhausted man's sleep. She smiled lovingly as he snored and closed the door, checking the kitchen that all of the supplies were put away and her note to him was left prominently on his table. It told him that she would petition Father Mahara to be allowed to visit him regularly and to promise to bring him personally to services every week. Locking both the front and screen ...