WhoreNun Erotica: The Ice Cream Incident
Whore-Nun.com is proud to welcome our new nun erotica writer, Joy Strange. Joy writes a variety of fetish, bisexual and straight erotic stories and has published under a variety of pen names on sites including ThreePillows.com. This is her inaugural post for Whore-Nun.com.
Sister Elizabeth put her spoon on the table, unable to believe what she was seeing on the smallish television screen. She’d been eating cherry ice cream, a rare indulgence for her suddenly interrupted by the image of a woman in a nun’s habit being sensually caressed by a well-chisled, mostly naked man wearing a priest’s collar.
“Unbeliveable,” Sister Elizabeth whispered almost sensually to herself as the man’s large hands prowled across the heaving breasts of the nun on the television screen. And so it was.For starters, the man with the roaming hands, who were now cupping and squeezing the nun’s supple breasts, was far too attractive and finely chiseled to actually be a priest. And how did this sexually-charged clip wind up on broadcast television to begin with? With the nun’s panting and sweating, it looked more like something that belongs on cable. Yet it was here, making Sister Elizabeth’s thighs grow slightly sweaty and her cherry ice cream melt.
Sister Elisabeth switched off the tiny television, scooped up her ice cream bowl, and made her way into the bedroom.
Setting her bowl on the nightstand, she felt suddenly confined, restricted, and far too hot in her nun’s habit. She slowly removed her sacred garments and dropped them to the floor. Sister Elisabeth was still clad in black panties and a black lacy bra–something the Holy Fathers would surely frown upon. But Elizabeth was a young, attractive 23-year old nun who had been starting to doubt whether a live of service to the Catholic Church was the right thing for her.
As she sat down on the bed, removing her undergarments, she thought about the pent up sexual desires which she knew were pushing her towards abandoning the church completely.
No matter how hard she prayed or how devout her service, her efforts couldn’t keep her hands from straying to her ripe, medium sized breasts, then sliding slowly down the lenght of her body until her fingers found themselves between moist thighs.
Like right now.
Sister Elizabeth lay back on the bed, the fingers of her left hand lightly caressing her close-cropped pubic hair. With her other hand she took the melting bowl of cherry ice cream from the table and held it aloft above her. Tilting it slowly, Elizabeth started drizzling melted ice cream, feeling the cold splash on her slender throat, splattering onto her shoulders and sliding between her breasts.
“This must be what it feels like for a man to cum on you, but colder.” She mused to herself as more melted ice cream covered her breasts, the cold hardening her nipples. Her left hand was busy on her clit now, massaging back and forth, sometimes slipping inside the warmth between her parted lips. She was soaking wet now.
Elizabeth set the bowl aside as the waves of orgasm started to climb, radiated from between her thighs up through her sweating, ice cream-stained abdomen and taking her to the place she knew she’d be with a man soon. And perhaps a woman, too.
That did it. The forbidden images of a man taking her roughly from behind while the women pushed her full, delicious breasts into Elizabeth’s face brought her to the brink of ecstacy, a throbbing pink tidal wave of joy.
Working herself with three fingers now, her back arched into the air as Elizabeth gasped for air. Maybe both at once, she moaned as she came loudly, her voice echoing off the bedroom ceiling. She felt cool liquid rolling across her chest, down her sides and trickling down to her back. The ice cream was sweet and a slightly sticky, just like her tired left hand.
Forbidden Movies From the Brothels Of Paris: Vintage Erotica films.
