Saturday, July 31, 2004

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Friday, July 30, 2004

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Little Sisters of Chastity : by Joyce Hamilton MF FF MM Fdom Mdom

I was sorting through my grandmother's possessions when I came across a
padlocked ironbound wooden trunk. In the end I smashed the lock with a
hammer and chisel and inside found a mass of papers, photos, and especially
a leatherbound A4 ledger and two bundles of handwritten sheets, tied in
bundles with a broad red ribbon. The ledger had a crucifix embossed in
gold on the red morocco. I knew my grandma had been in a nunnery in her
youth, but had left the church, married my grandfather in a civil marriage,
and been unwilling to talk about her 'religious life'. When I was very
young, I had heard from somewhere my grandfather , too, had been in the
Church, perhaps as a Priest. They were a strange household, as their
housekeeper may have been a nun at some time, and also old Miss Priscilla ,
who died when I was little. I remember hearing her talking to the
housekeeper about 'the old days', and somehow got the impression that she
too had had something to do with a nunnery. But neither my grandparents ,
nor my mother and father would ever refer to any of that .

When grandma died, I was given the job of going north to the big, old
house in Penrith, up on the moors, to sort out her and grandad's goods;
save, sell, or destroy everything. Especially to sell the house for the
family. I was chosen because I was 'between jobs', 'resting' (I'm an
actress), or more precisely , unemployed.

Well, there was enough evidence around the house that the couple, their
housekeeper , and even the silverhaired Miss Priscilla enjoyed a full and
varied sex life, and with a huge number of different partners. This was
not just an 'open marriage', more a continual orgy. But that's another
story, and I shall probably have to burn all those photographs and address
books. Some of the uniforms, whips, shackles, dildos etc I'll take back to
my flat.....I have a lot in common with grandma! But the ledger and the
letters are different. They tell a coherent tale, and also explain why the
two of them left the Church with their two companions, to the benefit of
all those sexpartners, male and female. And to my benefit....as I
wouldn't be here if they had not. I thought it was worth passing their
story on, and I hope you will think so too.

I shall take bits from grandma's diary, for that is what the ledger was,
and intersperse them with the letters between the couple, adding a few
other documents. For the most part their records speak for themselves and
I will not comment any more.

...................................................................

Diary entry Sunday January 2nd 1936 : It was Father John's turn to
confess the nuns Saturday , and to take High Mass on Sunday. As usual he
was given the guestsuite, and as usual I waited till the chanting in the
chapel ceased at midnight and crept unseen up to his quarters.

He was on good form, and didn't even give me time to remove my nun's
habits before he bent me over the great armchair, lifted my skirts up from
behind, gave me a playful spank on my naked buttocks, and then the most
vigorous fucking, in my cunt from behind. My favourite way, as he well
knew, though I need my hand underneath, working away on my clit. I had
been looking forward to this from the Friday, when his short note came,
telling me it was his turn to take confessions. In the confessional I
amused myself by I working myself up telling him what I wanted him to do to
me. And as usual he mocked me , telling me I should have to do penance by
giving him my mouth and arse as well. 'Your confessor has a tremendous
hardon the other side of this screen, and can scent you are even worse,
you sinful girl.' He was right. I was in a fine, wet, excited state by the
end of that confessional, my hand up my skirts paddling in the juice. And
I stayed like that all day.

So it was over the arm of the chair with me, up with my nun's robes, and
straight up into my (willing) cunt. He was naked....I love it when he's
eager and rough with me like that. And I came almost immediately. A good
thing, too, as he only needed about thirty seconds before I felt his hands
grip my naked hips even more firmly, his belly slapslap even harder
against my arse, his balls swinging onto my cunt underneath, and finally
the slippingsliding of his cock as his spunk was added to my wetness.

We crouched there panting, while cum and my own wetness dribbled down my
legs.

'I needed that, Sister Mary. I haven't even wanked for three days.'

'And no novice monks either?'

'Not for weeks, darling.'

'I almost believe you, Father John. You've nearly filled me up. Now
chuck me that towel. I want to clean up before I undress. Don't want to
get spunk stains on my habit.'

'Any new conquests among the nuns?'

'No. In any case you'd know from their confessions!'

I undressed, and hung my black robes beside his . We lay on the
bed....me grasping his stillhard cock, he, as usual, feeling my breasts
with cupped hands, and tweaking with fingers and thumbs. His cock was
sticky, and I licked it till it was slick and shiny.

'Before any more....I got a new commission from Mother Superior today.
We've got a novice arriving tomorrow, and I'm to be her guardian for the
first few months.'

'Moral guardian! That's a laugh. Hope she's pretty, for your sake.
That'll be some consolation for babysitting her.'

'Here's her photo, look.'

He took the picture from me, and a silent whistle left his lips. 'She's
a looker all right. Peaches and cream , cute little blondie. Looks like
she's got a nice figure too. But she can't be old enough to be a novice.
She can't be more than...'

'Fourteen.' I interrupted. 'She's only fourteen, poor little bitch.
And the reason's in this letter from her step mother. Here, I'll read it
to you.....'

....................................................................

Chalfont Regis, December 27th 1936. My dear Priscilla, a problem has
arisen in our household, and my mind immediately flew to you. I hope that
the happy memories of our school and college days together will .....

'(I'll miss out all this stuff, Father John)'

'(No, darling. All of it. Remember I'm her confessor. You bet they
had happy schooldays together, those two. Remind me to tell you about her
one day.)'

.... college days together will persuade you to help us.

You will recall that when my husband Cedric died so tragically , blown
up by secretly smoking a cigar among the chemical fertilizers in his
greenhouse, I married his business partner Julius, taking my son Cedric and
daughter Lobelia with me. He had an only daughter by his first marriage,
the same age as Lobelia and one year younger than Cedric.

I regret to tell you that his daughter, Annabelle, has never even
attempted to come to terms with her new family situation. She is abrupt,
even rude with me. Ignores Lobelia altogether, and in short makes a decent
Christian family life wellnigh impossible.

But there is worse, or I would not trouble you, my dear Priscilla. On
Christmas Eve, as usual, I crept into the children's rooms to deliver their
presents. Cedric's room was empty. Alarmed I opened Annabelle's door.
There were two bodies in the bed....hers and Cedric's. They were heaving
about in a most lascivious way. He was fully clothed, in his heavy
pyjamas, but her nightgown had been pulled down to her waist, leaving her
bosom indecently naked. I sent Cedric to his room, and then gave her a
strong piece of my mind.

I interviewed Cedric the next morning, and he admitted she had lured him
into her bed, and that he had had carnal knowledge of her. Not just that
night, but often. And not only in normal, christian ways........I shall
say no more in deference to your religious peace of mind, my dear
Priscilla. But suffice it to say she has corrupted him, the poor young
innocent. He begged my forgiveness, and of course I forgave him in a
spirit of Christian charity, as I am sure you will approve.

Julius and I then interviewed Annabelle. In so far as she was coherent
at all, she attempted to deny it all....but she was sobbing so much it was
difficult to make much sense. Julius seemed to be taking her side, but I
soon stopped that!

And, in the strictest confidence, that is the second and greatest of my
family worries. It seems to me Julius is too close to his daughter. There
is something wrong, unnatural even, in their closeness. To see her hugging
him, pressing herself against him, whispering in his ear....well! I would
have thought little of it. But if she is capable of seducing a fifteen
year old, innocent boy, well what might she not do with a mature man? I
must admit Julius is a man of singular potency and passion, as I know to my
cost....I feel I may refer to such matters , given our former
intimacy?.....and I fear he might be unable to resist the temptation of an
available, nubile girl.

I must get her out of my house, to protect my son and my husband. I am
convinced the best hope for her would be to be confined as a novice nun,
and your convent, being remote from her home, and by reputation severe in
its regime, would be ideal. A strong dose of Christian morality might make
her into a decent person again.

I do hope you will be able to accommodate the needs of your Friend in
Christ, Petunia McFeeters.

................................................................

John was giggling as I read, but still feeling me, rubbing my clit
ohsolightly in a way that was close to making me lose concentration.
'Pompous Bitch! Vindictive, too. Let's look at that photo again. I can
see what she means! Imagine this cute little piece around the house all
the time. You couldn't blame dad or stepbrother for getting the hots.
She's given me the hots too. What wouldn't she do with a randy fifteen
yearold boy?'

'You're incorrigible. I tell you what. I'll put out the light, and you
can imagine you're fucking little Annabelle while you give me a long slow
fuck.'

'Yes, and who will you be imagining, you sexy bit?'

'Why, the lovely new curate who took the service with you this morning.
The one with the slim hips, black curls, and sexy full lips. What's his
name, Father John?'

'Aloysius. Father Aloysius. You have him, and I'll have her. Now the
lights!'

In the darkness I lay on my back, legs wide open. I felt his weight on
me, the mat of fur on his chest pressing on my bosom ,and then his lips on
mine. As we kissed he reached between us and placed his cock. Still
kissing me, a hand on my breast, I felt his cock slide in. He was as good
as his word, and it was a long, slow fuck, the full length sliding in and
out. I grasped handfuls of hair on his muscular shoulders, my face
smothered in the hair on his barrel chest. When I had come for the second
time, he increased his tempo, and I found myself imagining what it would be
like to enjoy the handsome young cleric. So different from my bullnecked
bear. So slim, so young, almost girlish in his beauty. I found myself
murmuring, 'Aloysius', and he was whispering endearments to 'sweet
Annabelle'. This game went on until he came, with me a second or two
later.

............................................................. Letter
from Sister Mary to Father John. January 4th Tuesday morning, My darling
Father John......I expect you're fully recovered from your exploits Sunday.
Jesus! I love our sessions together, and can hardly wait the two weeks
till our next.

I have met young Annabelle, and she is if anything prettier than her
photo. I intend to have her, and then give her to you to enjoy, my
darling. That may be more difficult than I thought. As we half suspected,
Annabelle is not the sluttish little whore her stepmother described. She
is sweet, innocent, virginal. I can imagine you licking your lips as you
read this! I'll describe our first interview....I don't mind if you jerk
while you read it, darling.

I sat at my desk in my black robes and read her step mother's letter
aloud to her. She looked so appealing in her thin, white shift and legs
bare to midthigh. The cloth hid little of her breasts and her nipples
stood out! As you know, Mother Superior has forbidden all novices to wear
underwear, and indeed anything other than the white robe and leather
sandals. Annabelle needed no adornment at all....she was utterly, totally,
devastatingly cute. And all the more so as tears welled up in her eyes ,
hearing the accusation that she had seduced her stepbrother and father.

'It's lies. It's all lies. She hates me because I'm pretty, and her
kids are ugly. And I'm clever and they're thick. Lobelia is a great lump,
and Cedric's a nerd. And it's Cedric who keeps on trying to have me. He
is always feeling me up when he passes me....my bottom and tits. And I
have to push him out of my bed nearly every night. I wouldn't have
him.....he's a nasty little nerd. And there's nothing wrong with me loving
my poor daddy.....' She was sobbing by now.Tears rolling down her cheeks
and wetting her thin shift. You'd have loved the scene, Father John, you
old sadist.

'So you never had sex with Cedric....or your father?'

'No....nor with anyone at all. I'm a good girl.'

'I'm sure you are....but we need to prove it. You know what a virgin
is?'

'A girl who's never....you know.....'

'That's right. And there's a way of proving a girl's a virgin. There's
a sort of barrier in there, that gets broken with the first man......If
it's still there then you must be telling the truth, and your stepmother
lying.'

'It must still be there....'

'I need to be sure. Now stop crying and come and sit on my lap.'

'Now, that's nice, isn't it. There, it's nice to cuddle. See, you've
stopped crying. Now, I'll be careful not to hurt you, Annabelle, but I'll
need to make sure you're telling the truth. We need to make sure you're
not dry before I try. Now, open your legs a bit. Do you ever do this? I
do. I love it. Is that nice, Annabelle?'

'It's nice. But.....'

'But nothing! Just tell me if I'm not doing it right.'

'That's right. It's lovely, but....'

And, John, I tell you, that's the last word she uttered for the whole
five minutes it took me to bring her to her orgasm. You would have loved
to have seen her in her thin shift, arms round my neck, pressing herself
against me as I fondled a breast with one hand and her clit with the other.
As she sat I couldn't see her cunt....so I'll just have to describe that to
you when I finish this letter tonight. Because I intend to see it before
then. Oh, yes! But her legs....John, I tell you, you never saw such legs.
Slim, long, like a racehorse. I love the full, rounded flesh of a mature
woman, but for sheer excitement, the legs of a teenage girl!

And as she came, panting against my neck, I slipped my finger up into
her. She scarcely noticed in her passion, but, amazingly, she hadn't lied.
John, she is a virgin. Are you drooling, John?....She is a virgin!

'There. That was nice wasn't it. Look at my robes....you've made them
quite wet where you were sitting! No. Never mind, I love that. And I am
so happy that you have proved you were telling the truth, and your
stepmother and her nasty little son were lying. If we told the Mother
Superior, then she would let you go back, and she'd give your stepmother a
good flea in her ear. She does that well!'

'Oh. Please, Sister Mary, not that. I couldn't go back there. Not
now. Not after what he said...I mean Cedric. Please let me stay!'

'Well, of course. And we'll just have to keep quiet, so you can stay.
I'm so pleased . And I promise you I'll look after you like a real sister!
Now you go and get your things and bring them to my rooms. You must stay
here with me.'

'I've only got one spare shift and my comb, toothbrush and wash things.
They took all the rest away.'

'That's our rule for novices, Annabelle. But you'll be all right with
me.'

Tuesday evening. I'll finish this letter now, Father John and give it
to the laundry woman to deliver it to you, as usual. Give her an extra tip
this time, as I think there will be more letters than usual.

The little darling is lying naked beside me, fast asleep. She's lying
on her belly with her cute little rump in the air, golden hair spilling
down over her shoulders. I know you like your nymphs tanned, John. But
the golden hair over her milkwhite skin is such a delight. And as she
lays with her legs slightly open, I can just see those plump little, nearly
naked cuntlips. Just the lightest fuzz of blonde hair. She has her face
buried in the pillow and is snoring contentedly. I am almost tempted to
gently part her buttocks to see again that sweet little pink arsehole
nestling there and to gently kiss it. But I'll let her sleep on.

And why is she so deeply asleep? Why, John, I'm sure you can guess.
We've spent a happy ten minutes, playing a nun's favourite game, her
learning the very first lesson in the art of love.

You may feel I have been unambitious in my first approach to the
seduction of this lovely young girl. I am, however, confident that I shall
enjoy her fullest favours. And , dear Father John, that you will too, in
your turn.

After supper and chapel, she walked back with me to my rooms.

I closed the outer door behind us, and with great nonchalence kicked off
my shoes, and swept my black habits up over my head. I did not even catch
Annabelle's eye as I walked, stark naked, to the cupboard and hung my robes
there. I could feel her eyes on my body , though. I don't have to tell
you, John, that I have the sort of figure you can't keep your eyes off,
whether you are male or female. I walked round the room fussing, as if it
were the most natural thing. 'I shall shower first. Won't be long.'

I was, in fact, fairly long, as I decided to shave my cunt very
thoroughly. When I emerged, she was sitting demurely on the edge of the
bed.

'You're turn now , Annabelle. You can use my oils, talc and anything
else you want. Here, let me hang that up.' I grasped the neckline of her
loose shift and pulled it upwards over her head. She stood naked in front
of me. John....you would have stood to see her there, stood rockhard and
ready! Lord Jesus, what tits! Not full, like mine, but round and firm.
The size and shape of a round champagne glass. Puffy pink nipples. And
her waist slim, belly flat, hips still boyish, and those long, long legs.
But sexiest of all, John, the imploring look in her bright blue eyes, her
golden hair falling over one shoulder. A picture. 'You're very pretty,
Annabelle. Now go and have your shower. There's a nice big dry towel, and
a shower hat to keep your lovely hair dry.'

I deliberately lay on the outside of the bed, so when she returned she
had to climb over me. Her breast brushed mine quite delightfully as she
did so, and as she parted her legs, I caught a glimpse of the rosebud of
her arsehole, hairless, and the tightclosed lips of her cunt, pink under
the light blonde fuzz. And her plump little mound, John, white and full
under the wispy blonde hair. My cunt was on fire, I tell you and I would
have given anything for a hard, stiff cock at that moment. I could feel my
wetness....perhaps even running onto my thighs. Sweet Lord, I was excited.

She lay silent beside me, her hands modestly covering her tits. I
opened my legs, placed my hand there, and squeezed at my clit. She was
watching. 'You won't mind if I do this. I always do, or I won't sleep
soundly.' I was wanking away now, running my fingers round and round my
clit. 'Do you do this, Annabelle?'

She hesitated. 'Sometimes, Sister Mary...Not always...'

'Why not do it now. And then I'll feel better about.....'

And her legs opened, her hand parted her labia, her index finger sought
out the clit, and she started. The rest you know, John. I contented
myself with watching this first time....but even so it was minutes only
before I came, though not quite as quickly as her. Oh to have the libido
of a teenager again!.

I'll seal this letter in a double envelope as usual John, and try to get
some sleep. Though the sweetie beside me is , I fear, certain to rob me of
some hours as I plan her progressive seduction. Goodnight, my lover John.
May your dreams be as good as mine. Your mistress, Mary.

..................................................

Letter from Father John to Sister Mary. January 5th Wednesday evening.
My dear Mary, So your novice is as innocent and as lovely as we hoped. I
enjoyed your description of the first steps towards her seduction, and
fully expect that in your next letter you will be able to tell me of
further advances, further lessons in the art of love.

I have news, my darling. I have had Father Aloysius. More precisely I
have enjoyed a mutual fellatio with him. I have had him naked, felt and
fondled him, and had his penis in my my mouth and mine in his.

I must share with you how I brought this about.

I have been quietly watching this young man for some weeks now. I have
become sure he's a boy with a very strong libido, and more to the point, it
is directed at males as well as females. I had observed him in the
Cathedral, and was not at all surprised to see his eyes following the
nubile, and it must be said scandalously scantily dressed tourist girls.
But, interestingly, his eyes followed some of the males as well. So do
mine....as you well know, Mary! But whereas I get the hots for the more
feminine type of male, I noticed his inclination was towards the hairy
bear. In particular I saw him almost drooling over a hairy German tourist
in absurdly tight leather shorts. His eyes were continually drawn to those
massive , hairy thighs, and the suggestion of a mighty weapon bulging under
the worn, grey leather.

Father Aloysius is a man of fixed habits. Every afternoon at precisely
3 o'clock he sits on the same stone bench in the cloisters and spends half
an hour reading his bible. At two minutes to three yesterday I left a
booklet of photographs and drawings on the bench, and withdrew to watch him
, hidden in the clerestory. He arrived on time. I saw him sit down,
notice the plain brownwrapper covered magazine, pick it up, open it. It
was as if he had been dealt a blow by my fist, below the belt, in his
stomach. He was winded! But he recovered, looked furtively around him,
saw noone, slipped the magazine into his bible, closed the tome, and
scuttled off in the direction of his cell. I watched the door. He didn't
emerge for four hours.....looking rather pale when he did!

Well, that was yesterday. At half past three today, I wandered past the
bench, just as he was leaving.

'I shall walk with you a moment or two, Father Aloysius, if I may be
permitted to interrupt your meditations.'

'Of course, Father John. I have finished my meditation , and was
returning to my cell.'

'This is rather delicate, Father Aloysius. Yesterday I carelessly left
a book on the bench there. And I realise you must have found it. Ah! I
see from your face that you did, and that you opened it. I feel I should
explain. I find an aesthetic pleasure in such photography and artwork.
What is there to compare with the dappling of light and shade on the naked
flesh of a young male athlete? Or with the contrasts of angularity....as
for example in the strong athletic shoulders of a young male and the
rounded contours of his limbs, or indeed the contrast of the whiteness of
his buttocks with the angry redness of ....of....well, of a certain other
part of the male's body? I'm sure you will understand. Ah! Here we are
at your cell, Father Aloysius. I must enter with you to explore this
matter further.'

'What a delightful room! Not at all spartan, Father Aloysius. I see
you enjoy your creature comforts! And why not? However, back to the
point. The particular contrast I most enjoyed in the book, was between a
hairy, muscular body and the smooth, slim body of his partner. You will
recall the striking series of pictures, Father Aloysius? Ah. Yes. I see
you do. It occurs to me that the muscular figure could even be mine...it
is not of course. But you must agree, like, very like.' I swept my black
robes up over my head and stood in front of him naked, my cock at full
attention.My body, of course, as hairy and muscular as any boy could wish.
I could see his cock hard, making a tent under his black robes.

I stepped the yard between us, and grasped his prick , though the heavy
cloth. As I held it I lifted the hem of his robes, and to my great
pleasure found his buttocks were naked. Like me, he wore no pants. 'And
just as my body is rough and hairy, so I feel, yours is smooth and
hairless. Let us see further.' I lifted the hem to his shoulders and
whipped the whole hassock up over his head to join mine on the floor. 'Ah.
What a pity your mirror is so small....we might be the couple in the
photographs.'

'Father John. This is wrong. We shouldn't.....No, really, Father John.
I mustn't.......No....'

'But our bodies say otherwise, Father Aloysius. My what a lovely
straight, strong cock you have. And I was right about the contrast between
the angry red...' I grasped his knob...'And the delicate white.' I grasped
the slender shaft. I half pushed, half led him to his bed, guiding him by
his stiff cock, and we fell on it together, in each others' arms.

Mary, you would be amazed how quickly his reluctance disappeared. He
was all over me. Had me on my back, his lips on mine, his cock against
mine, bucking and rearing. The bed rattled and shook as if we were already
fucking on it. I suppose a lifetime of abstinence and repression had built
up a head of steam of such power that it demanded release. His tongue was
in my mouth, his fists grasping handfuls of the hair on my back and
shoulders, his legs intertwining with mine as he tried to cum against my
body. But, as you will imagine, Mary, knowing as you do my passions, I
didn't want to waste his virgin cum splattered between us, unseen and
untasted.

I rolled on my side, he still wriggling and wrestling against me, and
broke away from his grip. In a moment I had reversed my position on the
bed, and lay with my face against his belly. And of course my cock pressed
across his face. I felt him grasp it, and then the warm wetness as he took
it into his mouth. Even before I sucked his cock, Mary, he was sucking
mine. The little saint was seducing me, by God! But only a moment before
me, because that straight, slim cock was in my mouth, and I kid you not,
Mary, he was coming in my mouth almost before I could suck on it, great
spurts, as if they had been building up in all those solitary years. I
gobbled and swallowed, caressing his balls as he came, tickling his anus,
doing all I could to maximise the force and pleasure of his orgasm.

His cock was still firm, but he reached down, and pulled it from my
mouth. Still he sucked on mine, and I had to use all my self control not
to come. This was too good, and I intended to prolong the pleasure. And
above all I wanted to enjoy his body. I love these slim, boyish priests,
with their hairless chests and girlish limbs. I caressed, fondled, felt
all over, while he sucked and licked, running his hands through the mat of
my body hair. I told him he sucked well. I caressed his buttocks. I
rolled him over again on top of me , so his tight little balls, and his
stillhard cock pressed across my face, my nostrils full of the scent of
him. I was in heaven, Mary. How I wish you could have seen us! I was in
heaven, but I was finding it more and more difficult to hold back the
pleasure building in me. Finally, I let it go, and filled his mouth with
my cum. He gagged, but swallowed and swallowed, finally licking the last
drops from the shaft and tip.

We have an assignation (that seems the right word somehow) for tomorrow
afternoon, in my cell this time. I intend to teach him some further
techniques....I leave you to guess what I have in mind. As for the pretty
Father Aloysius, some of the photos in the book (which I left with him)
will give him an idea of what might happen at a second meeting.

I wait with baited breath your next letter, with your progress with your
little project.

By the way....I said I would tell you why Mother Superior has ruled
novices should be naked under their thin, summer shifts. She confesses to
me regularly that she has lustful feelings towards these young girls, and
like you and me appreciates the shape of their tits and standing nipples.
The cotton shift hides little. And the short skirt gives an occasional
glimpse of delightful buttocks, even cunts. She is not, I think, wholly
lesbian....in her confessions she admits to fantasies involving young men.
You might feel like trying her...not so much for pleasure (though I suspect
her body is quite good still) ....more perhaps as insurance if we should
get caught out. She confesses to a female lover outside the
Nunnery....though she can't see her often I imagine, given the difficulty
of leaving your prison for an hour or two, even for her. I'm to bed
now...alone, unlike you! My love , sweetheart, John

................................................................

Letter from Sister Mary to Father John. January 6th Thursday midday.
Dear John, I'm writing this in the morning. I was just too contentedly
exhausted to write after my session with Annabelle last night. The
laundrywoman is delivering to the Cathedral this afternoon and will drop
it in your letterbox.

You're teasing me with your description of Father Aloysius. Now, you
make sure he doesn't get so pleased with the male penis that he won't want
to pleasure my cunt when the time comes!

So the saintly Mother Superior has a lover does she, and a female at
that? I'll watch her, and see when she leaves the Nunnery. And if it's
regular, you can follow her to find out who she is fucking, and where.
With all the lovely nuns here, most of them only too willing, she is either
so discrete she has to have lover outside, or else the lover must be
something special. It will be interesting to find out. And perhaps
useful.

In passing, Sister Charity was a bit jealous that I'm spending so much
time with Annabelle and none with her. I quickly sucked her off this
morning to show I still love her! Do you get these problems with your male
lovers, John?

Back to the important things. Last night I got a lot further with our
innocent girl. Give me a week, and she'll be ready for any sexual
practise....you see.

Back in my rooms, she undressed quite naturally, no embarrent at her
own or my nudity.

'Let's shower together, Annabelle. It'll be nice. And you can scrub my
back for me.'

It was a bit crowded in the shower, John, the two of us. But all the
sexier for that.

'Soap my back for me, Annabelle. Yes like that, round and round.
Almost like a massage. Your hands on my hips....I'm ticklish there. Oh
yes, on my bottom. No don't stop. Oh, all right. Now underneath.
Thoroughly, now. That's lovely. And the other hole too. Yes, like that.
Now my legs and feet. I can feel your breast, your nipple against my
thigh. Now, if I turn round. My breasts. Round and round. See, mine
stand up like yours! And my belly. And underneath again, just to be sure.
Now I'll soap you.'

You are going to enjoy having her in the shower, John. I soaped those
hard little tits and her pert little bottom. Her skin is a flawless white,
breasts, belly, back and bottom. Her thighs are milkwhite too. It's only
from the knees down she's at all tanned. Well as you can imagine I soaped
her thoroughly underneath, and in the end masturbating her as we stood
under the needle shower.

Not protesting at all, she leaned against the tiles. I pulled her
gently towards me , so she was leaning on me, my fingers still working on
her clit. I placed my other arm over her shoulders and pulled her onto me,
so our naked breasts were pressed together. I stopped masturbating her for
a moment, and now she did protest. I took her hand in mine, and placed in
between my legs. 'Do me too, Annabelle, while I do you.' Tentatively she
opened my lips, ran her fingers up the slit, and found my clit. Of course,
she knew what to do! So we stood there, in each others' arms, each playing
with the other's clit.

I felt her coming, her bosom heaving as she panted. I kissed her for
the first time as she came, and she reciprocated, kissing me back hard.

'Let's get dry, and finish on the bed!'

As we dried, and combed out our hair, Annabelle was pensive. 'You have
lovely glossy, dark hair, Sister Mary. What a pity you have to cover it
with a wimple all the time.'

'That's the rule, Annabelle. It's because men....and girls too, like
you....are turned on by it. So it has to be hidden under the wimple. And
that's why we wear habits, so people aren't seduced into lusting after our
bodies, which they are supposed to hide. '

'Then why not novices. I mean I have mine right down to my shoulders.
And I don't think my shift covers much of my body. I'm sure people can see
my bottom sometimes, and my nipples often show through.'

'That's a good question. I think the answer is that a lot of the nuns
like to be turned on by sweet, young novices. The Order makes the rules
for Nuns, but the Mother Superior makes the rules for novices. She
probably likes looking at beautiful young girls.'

'It's not only us, then....I mean not only you and me who......'

She couldn't say it. 'Not only us who are turned on by other girls, and
want to make love with them? No, of course not. Most of the Nuns are here
mainly because they can get plenty of chances to play with other nuns'
pretty bodies. Now let's get to bed.'

She was eager this time, and we were immediately in each other's arms,
kissing.

'I love it when you suck my nipples. Mmmmmm. Do you think all sisters
do this? I mean I never had a sister, and Lobelia was so ugly.'

'Suck mine now. I'm sure they do. Though I never had a sister either.
I'm your big sister now.'

'Mmm. I like my big sister. Suck mine again. That's so exciting. It
goes right down to my clitty. Feel down there and you'll see.'

'Hard little clit, and so hot and wet! But it does just the same to me.
Little sister.'

I gave each pink nipple a specially hard suck, and then traced down her
chest with my pointed tongue, and then into her lovely, puckered navel.
Round and round the navel with my pointed tongue.

'That tickles.' She giggled.

With my tongue now, tracing circles on her white, flat belly, ever
downwards towards her mound. Now the tongue in the light blonde pubic
hair, and down again, into her slit. I felt her tense under my hands.

'Oh! Oh, Sister Mary. But.....No.....You couldn't....'

But by now I had my lips over her clit and was gently nibbling it.

'Oh! Oh!'

My tongue now, running up and down the length of her slit, between her
plumping lips, lingering with each pass on her hard little nub. Her hips
were rising to meet me as I gripped them. I felt her hands in my hair,
pulling my head closer into her welcoming crotch. She was panting, and
making little squeaks of amazement and delight. I released my grip on her
hips with one hand, and parted her lips with it so my whole mouth could
work on her cunt. I rubbed her with my fingers now, still sucking on her
cunt. I could feel her coming. And I could hear her, too. The squeaks
gave way to a series of grunts, as her cunt raked up and down my face.

When she had done, had her last spasm, I returned to caressing her
breast, licking one nipple.

'I never knew.....I never thought it....That was lovely, Sister Mary. I
never had one like that. Never before.'

'Women do that better than men. Believe me, Annabelle. I know! Though
there are some things men do better!'

'And the other Nuns....?'

'A lot of them. Though not all. Are you going to do it to me?'

'I'll try.'

I knelt over her face, my hands on her tits, partly for balance, but
mostly because they demanded touching, feeling. I lowered my cunt onto
her, and felt her tongue penetrate. It didn't take me long, looking at her
lovely belly and cunt, her long, slim legs, and feeling her firm
littlegirl tits. I moved my cunt up and down over her face, stimulating
my clit and cuntlips against her tongue, nose and chin, until I came.

I had meant to write to you last night, John. But in the event, we fell
asleep in each others' arms. I woke up in the middle of the night, and her
head was on my bosom. Her golden hair shone in the moonlight from the
high, arched window, and the glazing bars made shadow crucifixes over her
back and bottom. I lay a few minutes planning my next steps in her
seduction, before dozing off again.

I hope you are having as much pleasure with your young priest as I am
with my novice. Love you, John, and looking forward to my next
'confessional' with you.

XXXX Mary.

......................................................

Letter from Father John to Sister Mary January 6th Thursday evening

Dear Mary, Our letters nearly crossed, but luckily the laundry woman can
wait ten minutes while I add these few lines to the letter I wrote this
morning.

Don't worry my dear. I have no intention of reinforcing Father
Aloysius' homosexuality to the point he forgets that girls, too, have
bodies worth fucking. I'm still working on breaking down all his
inhibitions....but you will have him one day. Promise, darling.

As for me, I can't wait to get my hands on, and my prick in, your lovely
'little sister'.

One interesting fact about Mother Superior. Just half an hour ago, I
saw her go into the Lady Chapel in the Cathedral. Two minutes later, I
peeked round the oak door.....it was empty. Noone had come out of it!
Ergo, there is another door in the Lady Chapel. And if you think about it,
the lady Chapel must be right up against your Nunnery of Little Sisters
just next door. Interesting? Now, I couldn't see a door, though the heavy
oak panelling would be excellent to hide one. It will be worth my while
watching in the Lady Chapel tomorrow....I can hide behind the altar! And
for you to watch her, especially if she goes towards the north side of your
Nunnery (the library, record room, and old treasury for example.)

My love, Mary. I've given the laundry woman an extra hundred francs,
and squeezed her bum for her. XXXX John.

Letter from Father John to Sister Mary January 6th Thursday morning.

My darling, and best fuck, Mary, No laundry woman this morning...but
probably this evening, so I'll tell you how the lovely father Aloysius and
the ugly Father John......Beauty and the Beast.....got on this afternoon.
While it's still fresh in my memory.

He was early. And eager. And excited. He had the little book, in its
plain brown wrapper, in the sleeve of his robes. He dropped it on my desk.
His face was flushed...not its usual pale, white complexion. I wasted no
time and as soon as the door was shut and bolted, I took him in my arms and
kissed him. He had learned fast. His leg was pushing between mine,
although encumbered by our thick , black skirts, and his tongue was in my
mouth. I rumpled his curly, black hair as we kissed. He had just washed
it, I guess, and it felt fine and silky to my touch. I reached down
between us and felt his cock, grasping the barrel of his shaft through the
thick wool. He giggled, and felt down for mine.

'I've been like this all day, waiting,' he said.

'Me, too. and a lot of last night too. I'm glad you're early. Let's
get comfortable....I want to see you again, I mean naked.'

'Oh, Father John....and me too. I dreamed about your strong legs and
chest. And especially this lovely hair....and this..'.He was holding my
cock, now naked and standing free of my religious dress.

'And I can't get enough of your soft, smooth, whiteness. And this! So
straight and slender, with its raging red head....'

We stood there naked, kissing, holding each others' pricks, caressing
bottoms...he my broad hairy arse, me his slim, smooth buttocks. My finger
slipped up into his crack....and then I felt his index finger feeling my
anus. He was whispering in my ear, as if his words were too secret for
speaking out aloud. 'Father John....in the book you lent me. The boy, and
the big strong man....'

'I remember the series...I thought they looked a bit like us....' I
pressed my finger firmer into the outer muscle of his anus.

'Yes, that one. The man....The man. Well he....he put his
....cock.......in the boy's bottom....' He reciprocated, pushing his finger
hard onto, but not inside, my anus.

You see, Sister Mary, how easy seduction can be sometimes. Here am I
laying awake most of the night puzzling over the best way to persuade the
young Apollo how to accept my cock in his bum....and getting wellsteamed
up at the same time, I might add.....and here is that beautiful young
innocent trying to seduce me. I decided to have a bit of fun with him.

'I remember that bit. Exciting!' I was cradling his tight , white
scrotum now.

A silence.

Hesitating, he continued. 'I mean they are photos....so it must be
possible.....And it looked as if the boy was enjoying it....and the man.'

'I'm sure they were, lucky couple.'

'Well, can't we. Couldn't we.......?'

'I'd love that, Father Aloysius. Yes, I'd love that. But who has who
first? I tell you what I'd like. I'd like you to have me and then me to
have you....'

This may sound a bit selfish, Mary. But if you think about it, once
he'd given me a good rodgering he could hardly complain if it hurt for a
minute or two when I fucked him. I'm a bit big for virgins, you know. And
I enjoy being fucked more before I've come....that is selfish, I know.

But in the event it wasn't much of a rodgering! I lubricated his cock
by the simple but pleasant method of bending down over it and giving it a
good suck, till it was nice and slick, especially the ragingred knob.
Then a dollop of spittle in my own arse, and bending over the leather
armchair. I parted my arsecheeks for him, and felt him place his cock.
Now, if he were a more experienced fucker, or me a less experienced one,
what he did would have been brutal. He just shoved it in hard. And came
immediately. Not a single push and pull for your John. Not even the
slightest friction on my arse. Not the feel of his breath on my neck or
his hands on my buttocks. Nothing! A shove, and a load of spunk. Ah
well! He'll learn.

My turn now....and I intended this to last. I knelt him on my bed,
pillows under his belly, his pretty little bottom arched towards me. I
spread those white arse cheeks with both hands, and looked at the secret
rose, the virgin , priestly rose, soon to be plucked by your Father John.
He giggled as I kissed it, and slipped the tip of my tongue into him. His
bottom arched even higher back towards me , and he wriggled his arse as I
slipped my tongue further in and moved it around in a circle. 'Is that
nice, Father Aloysius?'

'Mmmmmmm'

I keep a phial of scented oil by the bed for moments like this. I
dribbled a few drops into the crease of his buttocks, and worked some into
his bottom with my index finger. I slipped it in, to the first joint.
'This is holy oil. Blessed by the Bishop. Lovely , sweet holy oil for
sinners to bugger with. Is it good, Father Aloysius?'

'Mmmmmmm.' His arse wriggled in appreciation.

All the way in now, and then slowly in and out. Two fingers now.
Almost as broad as a slender cock. Now my thumb, so the palm of my hand
could fondle his cock and balls while I masturbated him, looking for the
holy prostate. He was still hard. He was indeed enjoying this.

He was ready. He had enough oil in his anus already....as you know,
Mary, I like a tight fuck! So I placed my knob, and ohsogently
penetrated. He gave a start, but then his bum arched back towards mine
again to get the full length. Which I gave him. I bent over his smooth
back, my hairy chest against his flawless white skin, and kissed his neck.
I was full in him. I whispered in his ear.

'Yes! Full! Lovely!' he replied.

I started to fuck him, slowly, carefully, but very deep in him. He was
muttering now, 'Must wank. Want to wank. Must wank.' His bottom pushed
even higher towards me as he grasped his cock. My left hand joined his,
and I could feel him hard. I went back to gripping both hips as I pushed
and withdrew. He was wanking in rhythm with my penetrations. I leaned
over his back and kissed it. I whispered obscenities to him. I told him
this was a sin. A pleasure. The greatest sin and the greatest pleasure.
Sweet buggery. In the holy arsehole of the priest. With the holy cock of
the priest. Manonman. Priestonpriest. Priestinpriest. Sin!

I was worried I might be fucking too hard as I whipped up my own lust
for this virgin. But however hard and fast I fucked, he demanded more and
more. His hand was flying up and down his shaft, and I could hear he was
close to coming from his panting, and swearing. Good. So was I!

And as he came, spilling his cum on my bed pillow, so I came in him,
deep.

We lay there a full five minutes, me lying on top of him, until a spasm
of his anus expelled my cock.

'Can we sleep together tonight, Father John.'

'Do you know, Father Aloysius. I think it would be better not to.
Believe me, I know. It will stay good for us for longer if we don't fuck
all the time.'

'But I want you!'

'Or the next man you fancy. I know you young lads....and in any case
you're twenty years younger than me. Your appetite is new and young. Mine
is old and jaded. I know. Once you've tasted it, you'll want it a ll the
time.'

'Only with you, Father John.'

''I'll see if I can find someone to help me with satisfying you. You
like them big, strong, hairy, don't you?'

'Like you, John.'

My plan, Mary, is to make him wait a bit, till he's good and randy. And
then sell his arsehole. I intend to prostitute him. More for the pleasure
of selling him, than for the money. Though that will be useful.

Must send this now via the washerwoman. Love from your John XXX

....................................................................

Letter from Sister Mary to Father John Convent of Little Sisters January
7th Friday morning.

You are very artful, John. Almost manipulative? But remember I want a
go at him eventually. I'm keeping Annabelle virgin for you, so you make
sure he isn't completely gay, just comfortably bisexual, like us two.
Don't spoil him for me, lover.

News! I followed Mother Superior into the library this morning. She
pretended to be looking for a book, but I could see she was furtively
looking round to see noone was there. I hid! She went to the furthest,
darkest corner, and seemed to look through a knothole on the panelling.
Then she went to a dismal statue of some dismal saint...Catherine I
think....and.....would you believe this...? pressed her palm against the
left plaster tit. A door opened in the panelling, and I could see an altar
beyond it. Your Lady Chapel, surely?

Haven't I done well? I looked through the peephole, and you can see the
whole of the chapel beyond...to find out if it's safe to use the door.

Be in the chapel at six thirty this evening, and I'll try out the door.

Now for sweet Annabelle.

Last night I had her use the strapon on me. Nothing of great interest
to you, I suppose. But it shows how far I've come with her in a few days.
Our conversation went like this.

'It's bigger than my brother's'

'But only about the same as a man's, after all. Look, I'll fix it for
you. This strap round your leg here, and this one round the other leg.
Like that. And this one round there. Now, you've got a cock, and can fuck
your big sister with it.'

'It looks funny.'

'I think it looks sexy. Don't make me wait. I'm all hot and wet. On
top of me. Yes, like that. Now push. Aaah! That's good. Now fuck me in
and out while I hold your tits. Oh Sweet Jesus. Yes! That's good. In
and out. harder. Your tits under my palms, fuck, yes. Lovely tits.
Golden Hair. Hips. God, yes. I'm coming .Yes.'

Well, you've heard me come often enough, John. So you can imagine. But
this was especially good. Her first active fuck!

'Do me, now, Sister Mary.'

'I'll suck you off beautifully, but I won't fuck you. Not yet.'

She pouted.'Why not? Please.'

'Because I don't want you to finish up like one of the sad Nuns with
only half a life. I love pretty girls and handsome men too. I want you to
enjoy boys as well as girls. So I know it's best that the first to go up
you should be a real, fleshandblood cock, not an imitation. Trust me I
know.'

'Horrid virginity. I hate it. I'll do it in myself.' She threatened to
stick her whole hand up, under the strapon that still wobbled in front of
her.

'No, darling. Look, I promise I'll find you a proper man to do it for
you. You wait you'll see how wonderful it is. Promise...'

She smiled. 'Soon then. Big and strong like my Daddy!'

'Big and strong, like the Daddy who never had you. Now lie down and
open your legs like a good little sister.'

Goodbye for now, John, lover. xxxxx Mary.

p.s. Remember. Six Thirty this evening. And see how I've preserved
her virginity for you.......make sure Father Aloysius doesn't forget about
cunts!

......................................................

Diary entry for Friday January 7th

I couldn't be sure my letter this morning would reach John in time for
him to be in the Cathedral's Lady Chapel at six thirty, but I could hope.

There was noone in the library.....Nuns don't read much! I peeped
through the knothole, and the chapel beyond seemed deserted. I pressed on
the plaster tit, and the door opened. I hesitated, but walked through.
The panelling closed behind me.

I can be daft sometimes. I hadn't thought of that. I didn't know how
it opened from this side. Stupid. I could have kicked myself. Worse! I
could hear echoing footsteps in the gloomy nave, coming towards me. I
couldn't think of anything else to do. I knelt in front of the altar, as
if in prayer.Only my back and my wimple could be seen from behind. Perhaps
they would take me for one of the religious nuts who hang about the
Cathedral. Under my black habits, my heart was beating , and I was in a
sort of terror.

Suddenly hands on my shoulders, and then under me, groping for my tits.
As they tweaked my nipples, I knew it had to be! It was! Thank God, it
was FatherJohn.

He didn't bother to lower his voice, which seemed to fill the Chapel.
'Well, a pretty little Little Sister, doubtless praying for forgiveness for
her many sins, doubtless chiefly sexual. Have you been sucking and
dildofucking Nuns?' He lifted me up, one hand still grasping my breast,
the other on my buttocks.

'Sh! John. Someone will hear. And I don't know how to open the door
from this side.'

He laughed. His hand was up under my habits this time. I'd got my
(MailOrder) silky knickers and stockings on for him, for a change. 'Mmmm
satinclad bum. Too good. No problem....Monaco are playing Dynamo Kiev.
Big football match. There's noone about at all. And I know how to open
the door. I watched your Holy Mother Superior do it ten minutes
ago....I've been following her all afternoon.'

As he spoke he guided me up the altar steps, till we were behind it, and
forced me onto the thick red carpet. He bundled my habits up under my
chin, and then pulled his off altogether. 'Safe here. Noone comes behind
the altar. Except if there's a service of course! But don't scream as you
come, Mary. Because I tell you, you're going to cum, and fiercely.
There's nothing like a bit of danger to turn you girls on. Lovely
lingerie. Specially for me?'

It was for him of course. I know how he loves it, and especially on a
Nun.(And, I believe on a Monk as well....but that's another story).

'I wear pretty things for myself. If you like silky panties and lacy
suspenderbelts and glossy stockings, then all for the better.'

'I do, Sister Mary,I do. Feel that.' I felt his cock, like a crowbar.
And I was so wet! We both found a bit of danger exciting!'

'This stuffs getting in the way. Help me get it off, John.' We tugged
and pulled until the habits were clear of my head. I lay there in my sexy
underwear, and my pure white wimple, so severe and starched.

'Jesus, I like you like this!' He was running one hand up and down my
glossy stockings, sometimes slipping it into my stockingtop so you could
see his great paw through the black nylon, gripping the flesh of my thigh.
The other was caressing my bottom, sometimes through the satin, sometimes
under it, on my buttocks. I was moaning with lust, and cradling his huge
balls with one hand , while wanking him with the other.

'Suck my tits, John, how I like it. You know!' His mouth on my breast,
and the ripple of fire ran from my nipple down to my clit. 'Fuck me, John.
Do me here, behind the altar.'

Away of the Nunnery for the first time in the three years I'd spent
there, my body was afire with its new freedom. He lay on top of me. I
could feel the thick carpet under my bum, prickling even through my
knickers. I felt him pull the transparent crotch of my panties aside, and
enter me. He had his full weight on me, and my body was lost in his as I
came, so suddenly as to surprise me.

'Kneeling, John. Do me from behind. I want your full length.' As I
knelt I felt him roughly pull my knickers down till they were at the top of
my legs. His great, hairy paws gripped my buttocks, and he took me. In
the cunt.

He was whispering to me. 'Shock Horror! Priest shags nun in Cathedral.
Read All About it!' He laughed and I giggled.

'Harder, John. I'm coming. Yeeees.'

'And now big sister of the Little Sisters, your sweet, tight, religious
arsehole. And over the altar, whorenun.'

'No, someone'll......'

'Worth the risk. Yes, like that!' I was frozen with fear that we would
be caught. My face pressed into the lacy altar cloth, and the smell of
incense. And his cock right up me,deep in my arse, and his balls swinging
against me with every stroke. Luckily he was excited and came. This last
one did nothing for me! But I was relieved when we got our habits back on
again, and became two ordinary religious creatures again.

'The door opens here....' He put his hand up under the skirt of another
plaster image, male this time. Feel....just pull on its plaster cock...
good joke , isn't it? The door opened, and a second or two later closed by
itself.

'I've been following Mother Superior all afternoon. For what its worth,
her lover is a dressmaker. A tarty blonde bit with long legs and pointed
tits. Fortyish, but still a looker. Has a shop in rue Gautier. They
spent about an hour in the room above the shop .Curtains drawn.'

'Can't see where that gets us...'

'Set Annabelle on her. Get her to seduce Mother Superior. Be good for
Annabelle's education'


...........................................................................
.........

Letter from the Novice Annabelle to Mother Superior Saturday January 8th

Dear Mother Superior, I know you are terribly busy . But I have
something I must talk to someone about. And I'm too embarrassed to confess
it yet. Though I know it's a sin. Please give me a few minutes to talk to
you. Always obedient, Annabelle.


...........................................................................
...........

Diary entry for Saturday January 8th.

Sister Charity sat beside me in the Cloisters after matins today. She
was flustered and upset. She is jealous; jealous of Annabelle because she
is sure that I'm making love to her all the time. And jealous of me,
because Annabelle is such a delight. She'd like to have a piece of that,
too.

I decided I'd better do something to improve her temper. In any case,
she's a pretty little thing herself, and it would be good for Annabelle to
learn about her particular sexual preference. I told her I still loved
her, and wanted her, and in fact was wet and randy for her even as we were
talking. She brightened up immediately. And when I suggested that
Annabelle could come along too, well Sister Charity was positively radiant.
I told her to be patient for a few minutes .

Annabelle was sitting on a stone bench opposite. I expect the cold
stone through her thin, knickerless shift was pleasant to her hot little
arse! Anyway, she looked a picture with her jutting breasts, long legs and
golden hair. She was reading....I suspect pretending to read....a missal.

'Do you like Sister Charity, Annabelle.'

'I think she's nice. And very pretty, too.'

'Good. Because before we started playing together just last week, I
used to do the same things with her. And now she's missing them.'

'I can understand. I'm sure I'd miss them now. But why don't
you......? I won't be jealous, dear Sister Mary.'

'You're a good, generous girl, Annabelle. Look, why not join us. Three
together would be such fun. Come along.'

Sister Charity had been watching us across the Cloisters, and when she
saw Annabelle get up and walk with me towards her she leapt up eagerly and
met us halfway. 'My cell! I've got all we need. How nice of you....and
how lovely you look, Annabelle.'

The heavy door bolted behind us, we were all three naked in seconds.
Sister Charity is smaller and slighter than either me or Annabelle, but
very pretty in an elfin sort of way. With her wimple off, her hair is
shortcropped, gaminstyle. She hasn't an ounce of fat on her...but isn't
really thin. 'Slight' is the best word. Nice tits, though, small and
firm, with dark brown nipples. The first thing you'd notice when she's
stripped is her pubic hair. A thatch of fine black hair reaching halfway
up her belly . I've seen a lot of girls....nearly all of them nuns.....but
never as much hair as this. Twice as deep and long as mine would be if I
didn't keep myself cleanshaven.

She was first undressed...eager I guess! Annabelle was slipping her
open sandals off and I was still fumbling with the pins on my wimple when
she was laying, legs open and welcoming on the bed. I could see Annabelle
about to get onto the bed with her.

'Not yet. You're too eager. First these.'

'What's that, Sister Mary?'

'It's called a ballgag. You'll soon see what it's for. Open your
mouth , you.' I pressed the bright red rubber ball between Sister Charity's
lips. 'Lift her head up!' The back strap passed behind her head, and I
buckled it. 'Now she can't complain. Stop feeling her tits, and turn her
over. That's right. we need her arse first.'

I strapped her hands together and then passed a rope through the straps,
and tied it to the bedhead. Annabelle had got the idea, and was fixing one
black leather cuff to each ankle. 'Now stretch her, and clip each ankle to
the bedposts. There, she's ready to start.'

I picked up the stubby catofninetails, a braided leather handle, with
six or so black leather lashes. Annabelle winced as I brought it down hard
on the waiting buttocks.

'No!' Annabelle was appalled as red weals rose on the white flesh. But
I slashed again.

'No!'

'She loves it. I'll tell you the story. When she was a novice, like
you, she was in another Nunnery. Not so easygoing as this one. The
Convent of Sisters of Charity. That's why she's called Sister Charity now,
by the way. Well, they caught her with a candle up her cunt, doing what we
all do. The bunch of hypocrites that ran the place decided to make an
example of her. In the Chapel, in front of all the Nuns, they had her
stripped naked, and made her lay on the marble floor. Then they whipped
her, first her bottom, and then her tits. As she lay there, she found she
was getting more and more excited with each blow. The cold floor, her
nakedness in front of the Nuns, the humiliation of being whipped...' I
paused a moment, to slash at her slim, rounded buttocks again.... 'All
that was making her excited, and finally she came. A much bigger orgasm
than she had ever managed with the holy candle! So there you are,
Annabelle, since then she's wanted to be tied up and whipped. At first it
had to be by a nun in full habits...wimple and all. Now, it's always her
nun friends....but she likes them naked...ready for later! As you'll see.
Now, you have a go!'

'Oh, I couldn't......'

'Try it! She loves it. And you'll be surprised. Oh, come on, little
sister, try it just once.'

Annabelle took the whip, and swished it twice through the empty air.
Then, fairly gently, she swished the waiting bottom.

'Harder. She wants it hard. Come on!'

This time it was a proper stroke, then another, and immediately another.
She was getting red in the face, and I don't think it was with the effort.'

'Well! What do you feel?'

'All tingly, as if....well....as if you were touching me.'

'See, I told you it's good. It makes me really excited....and watching
you too. Go on , whip her some more.'

Sister Charity didn't move, not even to wriggle, as the blows rained
down.

Finally, I held Annabelle's arm. 'That's enough, I think. Let me
feel.' I passed my hand between the novice's legs, and could feel her clit
hard, and her lips moist. She did the same to me. She was giggling. 'I
wonder if she...' She leaned over, and felt Sister Charity between her
legs. 'She's even worse. So wet! Oh, her poor, sweet bottom. I'll kiss
it better.' She had been gently caressing the pinkened flesh, and now she
licked and kissed the soreness.

'Well, you wait till you see what's next. Unstrap her legs and we'll
turn her over.'

Her eyes were closed, but she opened them. In the black pools was a
look partly of fear, and partly of desire. She seemed to be imploring
us....to whip her some more? Annabelle licked each erect nipple, and
fondled one breast with both hands.

'Time for that later, Annabelle. Now, fasten her legs like before.
That's it. Now, in among that thatch she's got you should find a small
steel ring.'

'Oh look. It goes right through the lips.'

'That's right. Now clip this chain onto the ring. Yes. Now I'll pass
it under her arse, and pull it tight. Can you see how it's opening her up?
Now , find the other ring. It's in that hair somewhere. That's it. Now
pull the ring, and clip the other end of the chain to it. Now, look how
wide open she is. I had her pierced because she wouldn't shave her cunt,
or even have the hair trimmed.'

'Look how red it is, against the black hair. And her clit is standing
up. Look! Can I have a little kiss, please?'

'Just a little one. We haven't finished with her yet.'

'Mmmmmm.'

'Now, did you notice her nipples are pierced too, when you were sucking
them.'

'Are they? Oh yes...if I squeeze them I can see the tiny holes.'

'These split rings....that's right. And now the other one. And now
this thin , silver chain. fasten those wrist cuffs, and now the ends of
the chains to the cuffs. And now fix that wrist to the bedknob......and
now the other one. See how it pulls her tits up and outwards when she's
tied. And everytime she moves an inch, her tits are tweaked.'

'I'm everso wet!'

'You're like me, Annabelle. A bit of a sadist! Lovely, isn't it?'

'Now we're ready. What I want you to do is to kneel over her face, just
above her. So she can nearly but not quite touch you with her nose. Look
at her straining up to get her face between your legs. That's right.
Tease her. And pull your cuntlips apart, and play with your clit'

I grabbed the whip and gave the victim a slash across the top of her
thighs. One strand of the cat furled round her thigh, and caught her
wideopen cunt. She flinched, and the nipple rings tweaked her tits
charmingly.I think she would have screamed if not for the ballgag, but I
could also see her labia swelling and her clit hardening even more. It was
worth another swish, and I gave it to her on the top of her thighs.
Annabelle allowed herself the luxury of scraping her cunt across Sister
Chastity's face, leaving it gleaming. I sat on her belly, astride her, and
fondled Annabelle's lovely breasts, leaning forward and kissing her.
Sister Chastity wriggled as the cunt lowered onto her face threatened to
s

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Wednesday, July 28, 2004

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Sunday, July 25, 2004

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Hanna Chapter 4

Love Redeemed



[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Generally speaking, I get very irritated with authors
who post stories "in progress" and then don't finish them. So, in the case
of "Hanna", I am warning all my readers in advance: I do not know if I will
EVER finish this story! I have this, and a couple more chapters, that I
expect can be whipped into shape rapidly. Beyond that... nothing. I
would almost keep these chapters on my hard drive, but a couple of friends
have persuaded me that there are those out there who would enjoy them, as
far as they go.

Having said all that, I hope you enjoy this. It is story, not stroke.
You've been warned. :-)

The Star <extarearthlink> 1998 - 2003]



Aiden was so smug, I almost wanted to hit him.

By putting a bullet through the head of Dick Pritchard's dad when he
tried to escape arrest, Hanna's dad not only ended a serious threat to the
family, he saved us all a lot of hassle and worry. That Aiden was
considered something of a folk-hero in our town merely stoked the fire.
Pritchard was obviously a murderous, slimy bastard who'd just shot two cops
when Aiden nailed him. No one mourned him, except maybe his wife, Estelle,
who was in jail awaiting trial for a series of felony indictments involving
her hiring a thug to kill us.

The good citizens considered that Aiden O'Malley had saved them the
expense of a trial. The cops admired the no-nonsense way he'd handled
things.

Aiden and Mary drove down to the university to spend the weekend with
us. The excuse was so that Hanna's sister, Anne, could tour the campus and
decide if she wanted to go there. Really, Aiden just wanted to spoil his
grandson and show off a bit.

Didn't matter. We were glad to see them.





Over dinner in a really nice restaurant that Hanna and I couldn't
afford, Aiden raised a subject we'd been considering.

"Gary, you know this is an Olympic year. You and Hanna going to try for
it?"

"That's not as simple as it seems, Aiden. I have an obligation to the
football team, first. And Hanna's chances are marginal this year. She's
prettier, but she's not a `FloJo'."

Aiden and Mary both grinned. It was a pretty accurate assessment.
Still, Hanna was improving steadily. She was competitive in both jumping
events with any woman in the country. Around the world, though, there were
some whose heights were better.

"I'll have a word with the university President. He's a fraternity
brother. I'm sure that every consideration will be made to help you two
participate successfully in the Olympics--if you want to go?"

Hanna just looked at me. "Sure, Dad," she told him. "We want to go.
We just didn't see how we could..."

Mary grinned. "I'll take care of Jason--though I'm sure Gary's folks
will arm-wrestle me for their share of his time. If you need to go to
Colorado Springs or something, just drop him off. And when you're at the
games, he'll be well cared for, so you needn't worry."

I thought for a moment. There was really no need for me to be at the
spring football drills--I'd be working with the track team anyway. Don
could get me up to speed on anything new after the Games. Working on
discus would keep me in shape. I could keep up my running on my own, with
Hanna to urge me on.

We'd both have to reduce our course loads to the minimums--and take
fairly easy classes at that. But it could be done. Actually, it was
easier for me, since I'd completed most of the really tough courses for my
major already. Hanna might need to take some summer classes next year to
catch up.

The next day, while everyone else was out shopping--really, they were
just spoiling Jason--I had a meeting with Coach Ullrich.

"Coach, I want to go to the Olympics this summer. My throws in the
discus make me almost a sure thing for a medal. I really want to do it."

He smiled. "I already had a short chat with the President about that.
You didn't need to send your father-in-law to see him. I'm behind you all
the way. Go for it!"

"I didn't know he'd done that. I wanted to talk to you, first, and this
is the first chance I've had... Thanks, Coach. I'm yours again after the
Games."

"No problem, Gary. Bring home some hardware."



With that settled, Hanna and I visited our academic advisors, to
rearrange our course loads and plot what we'd have to do to graduate on
time. Next year would be a bear, especially for Hanna. She could handle
it, though.

Then we had a meeting with the track coach...

Who grinned and said he'd been expecting us for a couple of weeks. He'd
arranged with the U.S. Olympic committee for both of us to go to Colorado
Springs for two weeks. Then we'd have priority on the use of practice
facilities on the campus. When we couldn't work outdoors, I'd be able to
throw in a `cage' in the field house. They'd also have a high jump set up
there. Pole vault was tough to do indoors, but some of the techniques for
getting over the bar could be practiced in the worst of the winter weather.

And, of course, we could run....

We did run, in all weather--

Hanna found a lightweight stroller with bicycle wheels at a garage sale.
So when the weather wasn't too bad, we'd take Jason along on our runs,
taking turns pushing him. Jason loved it and we loved sharing this with
him.



That spring, we took minimum classes and worked long hours on technique
and conditioning. We had the benefit of special `events' coaches from the
Olympic organization, who spent time with us regularly.

Late in the spring, at the Olympic Trials, we were very pleased to both
make the team. I won the discus handily, although a German had a better
mark already that year. Hanna qualified in the high jump and placed third
in pole vault, making her an alternate in that event.

The pressure from fans and press became excruciating. Everywhere we
went, we were mobbed by autograph seekers and well-wishers. When we went
out to eat, I had to ask that the waiters and hostesses keep people away
from us. Otherwise, we wouldn't be allowed to eat our meal!

Then we got a minor reputation for being `snooty'. At that point, I
didn't care. As I put it in an interview, "Bryan, it's not that we're too
self-important to talk to our fans...it's that our fans don't respect us
enough to grant us common courtesy. If I take my wife out to dinner, I'm
spending my own money to feed us. Surely it's not too much to ask to be
allowed to eat the food while it's hot?"

We signed autographs for hours at the meets we attended.



The Olympic experience was incredible. We made a point of attending as
many events as we could and watching a competition or two in events we'd
never heard of. I especially liked rapid-fire pistol. Watching shooting
is like watching grass grow, mostly. But I got to meet and talk to some of
the athletes. Marvelous!

We both enjoyed watching all of the basketball games our schedules
allowed, if the US was playing. Pretty soon, a couple of the players
recognized us and stopped to chat.

"I've seen you. You're competitors, too. What's your sport?"

Hanna laughed. "If you guys weren't too stuck up to live in the
village, you'd have met us. We're Hanna and Gary Rogers."

"Oh. Sure! I read about you. You're the couple from Oregon... Discus
is a hobby of yours?"

"Well, Bill, it's more than a hobby. But my scholarship is for
football." I had to chuckle. I'd worked very hard at discus, these past
months... Until we decided to go for the Olympics, though, it really was a
hobby.

Bill got a naughty look on his face. A couple of his buddies had
drifted over, and introduced themselves. "Tell you what, Hanna... We'll
try to make it to the finals of the high jump. And if you win, we expect
you to come over to the rail and give us all a big kiss, right after the
medal ceremony."

I grinned and Hanna laughed. A true, heart-felt belly laugh. "Won't
THAT get the press going?" she chortled. We all laughed at the thought.
Tweaking the press is always fun. "Sure. I'll be happy to. And you guys
will have to do the same after your medals ceremony."

Laughing so hard I could barely talk I sputtered, "No way I'm kissing
any of you ugly turkeys! But if your wives are here, I get my share!" With
good humor all around, our new friends rejoined their team and soundly
trounced their Greek opponents.

Later, a couple of them joined us in the Village for dinner. We made a
point of introducing them to some of the other athletes we'd met, including
two pistol shooters and a kayaker.





Hanna and I reminded each other constantly: "It's just another track
meet. We've beaten them all before."

One of the lady pole-vaulters was also qualified in the sprints. She
won the bronze in the 200 meter event, but strained a muscle doing it.
Hanna was in pole vault as well as high jump.

High jump was contested first. Hanna jumped very well. For a time, I
thought she'd won it. But a girl from Norway and one from England beat her
on the final attempt. After getting her bronze medal, she looked for our
friends in the competitors' section of the stands, but didn't see them.
(We later found out that they had a team meeting, prior to a game they
played that afternoon. They were sorry they missed the event.)

The next day--pole vault day--Hanna was stratospheric. She'd achieved
more than she'd hoped, with the bronze, and was only trying to do her best
in the pole vault. Her biggest problem was waiting around for the other
competitors to make their vaults, before the bar was raised again. Soon
there were only three left, then two. Hanna couldn't quite clear the final
height and had to settle for the silver. It was a lot more than either of
us expected and we were both very happy with it.

I was there to help her off the pit and envelop her for a huge kiss.
Then she was waving to the cheering crowd. This time, our friends were at
the rail, calling and waving. She went over and kissed each of them
soundly. And with a grin told them, "Gary will be expecting your wives
here when he wins!" Then she waved to the crowd again and left the stadium.



Two days later, we held the discus competition. I was really worried
about the German. He'd beaten me twice that year and his throws were a bit
farther. Hanna reminded me that it was just a track meet... and that I'd
beaten the guy consistently last year. "He's not that great...just lucky,
so far. All you have to do is concentrate on throwing your Frisbee out of
the stadium... you'll beat him."

My first throw was a new Olympic record. I never had to throw again,
but I wanted a world record. On his first throw, seeing my mark, the
German pressed too hard, lost his balance, and faulted. His other throws
were good, but not good enough. He ended with the bronze. My final throw
got my record, by two inches.

When I took my `victory lap' after receiving the medal, I really didn't
expect our friends to be there, so I wasn't looking for them. Hanna had
already given me a hug that almost cracked ribs and a kiss that curled my
toes and promised great things later that night... So I was surprised when
I heard loud female voices cheering and calling to me from the rail as I
finished my lap. Looking over, I saw a half-dozen very attractive ladies
calling and beckoning me over to them.

Trotting over, I was engulfed by warm arms and given tonsil-licking
kisses by most of the beauties. It was an event I'll never forget. The
wives and girl friends of the `dream team' had heard about what the guys
did to Hanna. They were going for paybacks! I was ecstatic.

(Besides being drop-dead gorgeous, most of these women were very
intelligent--and very nice ladies who became good friends.)

The news media made a big thing of it, as they had with Hanna two days
before. We had a lot of fun, over the next few months, with the tabloid
stories of one or the other of us in a wife-swapping situation with one or
all of the dream team members. While I'm sure some of those guys did play
around when they were on road trips, there was never any of that with us.
They were always perfect gentlemen with Hanna and we made real friendships
that didn't ask for anything more. Over the years, we came to treasure
those friendships more than our medals, as the real spoils of our Olympic
experience.

Later, when a reporter asked Hanna, "How well do you know Scottie?"

"He's a luv bug! I just love him to death!"

Of course, that just added fuel to the fire. We thought it was
hilarious.

- - -



Back home, we had a round of banquets to attend and speeches to give...
and that season's new playbook to memorize and a football mindset to get
into. Hanna and I both had a pretty serious course load, too.

And Hanna wanted another baby.

- - -



I was immediately engulfed in football. No one begrudged the time I'd
spent preparing and participating in the Olympics. Every member of the
team would have done the same in a flash, given the opportunity. But I'd
missed spring practice and the pre-season workouts, as well as the first
two games. I had some serious catching up to do.

Coach Ullrich was very supportive and Don helped a lot. Don,
especially, could cut through the crap and tell me, "This is new. We do
this and this, if they do this. See?" And he told me what was the same and
what had been dropped from last year's playbook.

It took me only a few days to get the body used to the running and
contact of the football field. Don's tutelage was excellent. There really
wasn't all that much new and I was soon `up to speed' on the program.

The team had high expectations for the season. We didn't know about the
Rose Bowl, but expected to be playing somewhere during the Christmas break.

I'd learned to recognize what defenses were doing and adjust my routes
accordingly. The biggest problem for me was that, when the backup
quarterback was in, HE didn't recognize the defenses, and would throw to a
spot based on the `nominal' route. So I had to remember to think about who
was calling the plays, as well as everything else.

Then we played Colorado. That was a dog-fight. Fortunately, we had
bigger dogs.





At home, Hanna looked at me like I was a hot-fudge sundae.

"Oh, well!" I sighed, in mock resignation.

This was over dinner, about a month after the Olympics. Jason was
especially good that night and ate like a little gentleman--his
grandmothers' influence, no doubt.

"Always after my body... Well, if a guy wants to eat regular, what is he
to do?"

Hanna smacked me for that. Then grinned. "Just don't get too deep into
your homework tonight. As soon as Jason's asleep, I need you."

I leered and drooled. Hanna smacked me again. She's not a small
woman... her playful whacks on my arm sting.

When dinner was finished and we'd cleaned up, I spent a rewarding hour
with Jason, playing on the floor. Then he crashed and I put him to bed,
with lots of hugs and expressions of how much I cared about him.

We didn't expect company--though a clate or teammate could show up
at our door unannounced--so I undressed and got in bed. I really like to
read in bed. It's comfortable, and I can concentrate.

Hanna finished whatever she'd been working on and turned off her
computer. Entering the bedroom, she sat beside me and, holding me tightly
in her arms, gave me a kiss that would give a statue an erection. No
statue, I tried to make a tent in my shorts, except it slipped out the fly
and waved proudly in the breeze.

Yes, there was a breeze... Hanna's mouth was right above it, blowing
gently. That was just before she gave it a big lick and I threw my book at
the nightstand.

Then we were tearing at each other's clothes, trying to set a new speed
record for getting naked.

Soon I had one hand supporting a magnificent breast, while I feasted on
its nipple. The other hand was caressing between Hanna's legs,
occasionally dipping into the very wet place where those strong, shapely
legs joined.

Meanwhile, we shared a kiss that was as passionate as any I can
remember. Her busy hands were stroking me, too. With increasing urgency.

In moments--she decided I was aroused enough--Hanna pushed me onto my
back and mounted in one smooth motion. Roll up and above, leg over,
capture the pole and slide down--all in much less time than it takes to
describe it.

Our sighs of bliss were simultaneous.

Hanna rocked on me a few times, to lubricate everything and to give us
both the exquisite sensation of her pebble-hard nipples gently abrading my
chest. Another kiss, and she sat up.

"Gary?" She had my attention. No need to ask for it. "I really want
another baby. Can I?"

"Just how soon can you get pregnant?" I asked, by way of answer.

"I stopped taking the pills at my last period. It's been two weeks, and
the thermometer says today's a pretty good day."

"Well. I suppose you can, then, just as soon as you get me off."

With that, the muscles in her talented body squeezed me convulsively and
her belly rippled... My words alone--`permission' to get pregnant--had
brought her to orgasm!

She wailed and rocked and kissed me frantically and convulsed and
thrashed.

I was so enchanted by her performance--and so thrilled seeing the one I
loved getting off so spectacularly--I forgot all about getting off myself.

Hanna finally collapsed atop me, huffing stertoriously.

When she caught her breath, she raised herself on her elbows, kissed me
soundly, and looked in my face.

I just grinned at her.

"That, my love, was the most incredible, wonderful, fantastic,
awesome...I'm out of superlatives... Anyway, darling, you'll have the rest
of your life to try to top that one."

Continuing to grin, I just asked, "How 'bout right now?"

Feeling well-stuffed--I was still firmly plugged into her--Hanna's face
had a grin of her own creep over it. "Betcha can't top that!" she dared
me.

She knows better, but this dare had ulterior motives. I flipped her off
me and laid her on the bed. Then, after a passionate kiss, my torso
crushing her magnificent breasts between us, I licked and kissed down her
neck and shoulders. I especially like to lick up the slopes of her
breasts. They stand out so nicely from her ribs, even when she's flat on
her back. Pretty soon, she was moving and mewling--her nipples wanted some
of the attention.

I provided it; alternating between light licks and blowing gently on the
wetted areas, then sucking hard at the rock-hard nipples, I soon had her
moaning continually.

When my mouth moved over her smooth belly--hard, but girl-soft at the
same time--she began undulating her hips, both because I was tickling her
slightly, and because she hoped she knew what was coming.

Reaching her thighs, I avoided her slot, just licking and kissing the
soft, warm spots of her inner legs. When they parted wide, I moved on up.
First I blew gently on her wetness, bringing shivers from the cool
sensation. Without warning, I gave a big swipe with my tongue from between
her legs, up through her slot, rasping across her rampant clitoris.

Instantly, her legs clasped my head and she screamed, while she bucked
and convulsed again.

When her legs loosened, she reached down and grabbed me by the ears,
pulling me upward on her. "Get in me NOW, lover! If I'm not pregnant in
five minutes, I'll go find a MAN to do the job."

I paused on the way up--VERY briefly--to give each distended nipple a
quick suck. Then I eased into my woman's core.

Hanna started rippling in orgasm as soon as I was in her and never
stopped. My own excitement mounted fast, but stayed on that high plateau
until, finally, she demanded, "Now, lover! Now! Give me your baby! Now!
Oh. OH! OOOHHH!!!" When her body went completely wild with orgasmic
motion, I could hold out no longer. I came. Several big spurts of heaven
jetted into her. Then it was as if a valve opened and it just flowed out
of me. Some ecstatic time later, I finally stopped...drained as I've
seldom been drained. It seemed she was trying to milk me of my seed.

I collapsed on her, until I regained my wind enough to gently roll off.
She's big and can support me, but she needed to catch her breath, too.
Besides, she was still cumming around my shrinking cock.

For a few moments, I just spaced out, enjoying the buzz from the best
sex I'd ever had.

I didn't even know it when Hanna leaned up on an elbow to look at me. I
finally noticed a smug little grin on her face.

"Guess I don't need to send out for help after all," she allowed. After
a very tender, very loving kiss, she said, "Lover, if I'm not pregnant
after that, we'll just have to try harder next time."

All I could do was groan at the thought. But the old one-eyed snake
took notice--and so did Hanna. Slyly licking her lips, she backed up to me
spoon-fashion, grabbed old Oscar, and plugged him in. Pulling my arm
around her, so a palm cradled a breast, she sighed. "Thanks, darling.
Sleep well."

She snuggled against me, sighed, and fell asleep at once. I was not
long to follow her, in spite of the delights filling my hands and caressing
my body.

- - -



Delightful tugging and caressing on my morning hard-on awakened me. I
was, somehow, still plugged in and Hanna wanted the benefit of it. We
carefully rolled over so I was above her, then I picked up her hips and
tucked her knees under. Leaning over her back, so my hands could cradle
and caress her wonderful boobs, I proceeded to dump a mighty load in her
greedy womb, just as she wailed her climax and shook like a woman
possessed.

When I returned to the bedroom from the bathroom--the bladder pressure
wouldn't wait any longer--she had a marvelously sensuous look on her face.
"Thanks, Gary. That was wonderful. Too late to knock me up--you did that
last night, I think. But wonderful anyway. You don't mind screwing
pregnant women, do you?"

I just grinned. "As long as they have big boobs and their name is
Hanna, I'm easy."

She hit me with a pillow as I sat on the bed, then grabbed both ears and
gave me a soul-searing kiss. If I hadn't needed some time to recover, I'd
have been back inside her after that.

"Thanks, darling. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for making such
marvelous love to me." She repeated her kiss, only softer. More like
`tasting' me.

Being a mere guy, I could only say, "You make it easy, Hanna. Besides
being the best sex I've had in a long time."

She grinned and hit me again. "The ONLY sex you've had, buster! And it
better stay that way!"

Just as I was about to grab her, to try my luck again, Jason came
wandering in. "Mommy, I'm hungry."

Hanna and I looked at each other, cracked up, and gathered Jason to us.
"Yes, little love. I'll fix breakfast for all of us, if you'll give me a
few minutes to use the bathroom and throw on a robe."

- - -



The football team was really strong that year--but so was Washington.
And Arizona wasn't chopped liver, either. I had an outstanding season and
Don racked up some impressive numbers, as we pretty much rolled over our
preseason opponents, then most of the PAC-10.

Arizona was a tough game. We finally won on a deep pass, after I'd
cleared out the zone--and then laid the block that let the wide-out get
into the end zone.

But the Huskies were the bigger dogs. It didn't help that I was injured
early in the game and couldn't continue. We were afraid of a fracture, but
it turned out to be a deep `bone bruise'. I watched the second half from
the sideline, in street clothes. It was a bitter disappointment,
especially when my replacement twice let a linebacker in to blindside Don.

In the end, Washington won the PAC-10; we were second and Arizona third.
The undefeated Huskies were selected for the Fiesta Bowl, to play for the
national championship, sending us to the Rose Bowl--not a bad consolation
prize.

We had a mad scramble of study and finals, while continuing regular
workouts and preparing for Iowa. My leg was fully healed and I was 100
percent! Finals went OK, too. I was really only sweating one course, and
was pleasantly relieved when the final seemed easy. (My subsequent "A"
confirmed my impression. The instructor later confided that he made the
course difficult, but felt that seniors in that major deserved a bit of a
break.)

After finals, we had a week to go home, do the Christmas thing, and get
back to school for serious workouts before leaving for Pasadena.

Almost four months along, Hanna was barely starting to "show" and could
still wear her normal clothing. She was very smug about it all and took
pride in being able to keep up with me during our daily runs. Morning
sickness had been moderate and she was done with it by Christmas. Of
course, her mother and mine pampered her outrageously--when they weren't
busy spoiling Jason.

Two days after Christmas, we boarded a chartered jet for Los Angeles.
The Athletic Department included players' immediate families, and parents
could fly along at a special rate. We also had special packages at the
hotel in Pasadena.

To help us out, Hanna's mom took charge of Jason. The little brat
didn't care a bit, knowing he was in for some solid attention from his
doting grandparents. Of course, my mom insisted on her share of his time.

There was a lot of publicity and arranged events for us all, including
obligatory trips to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm. Jason loved it--and
so did I, if I'm truthful about it.

By game day, though, I was ready to let the hoopla go and play some
football. Fortunately, the whole team felt that way and really had their
heads in the game. I only caught four passes--our ground game was going so
well, we didn't throw as much as usual. I was pleased to lay a couple of
blocks that sprung a running back for big yardage. It really pleases me to
level a cornerback--keeps them off me when I'm out in a pattern.

Iowa played a good game. They were Big Ten champs and had earned their
title. But we were a little better that day and won by two touchdowns.


Then the big question was, how high will I go in the NFL draft?

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