Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS15884.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 16.0 KB | 251 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
Wild Nuns..#3:
Sister Mary Comfort,
(story, Fm, humor, sperm) 02/02
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


        Shortly after I stopped coming the Sister surfaced for air. She let me
go and leaned back, panting hard. I sat down on the floor with my back against
the door, my hands clamped onto the plaster image of a man in the rapture of
pain and agony, nailed to a board.  I looked up at her with my best innocent-
little-angel look, holding the crucifix to my chest.
        "Thank you, Sister Mary, for a the lesson I shall not soon forget." I
whispered hoarsely.
        "NO, thank YOU, Billy for being a rare and attentive student." She
beamed a broad smile and held out her hands.  I laid my palms in hers. "The
most important part to remember is that you have spilled no seed!"  The
corners of her eyes crinkled up and she started snorting in an attempt to hold
back a belly laugh.
        "Not a drop, Sister." I giggled and clamped my lips tightly. We both
drew our foreheads together wracked with silent laughter.
        "And you have to promise to me never to think of making any without
me helping you not to spill it! Okay? Promise me." She gave me a big, soft
kiss on the lips.
        "I promise, I never want to be a sinner........"
        Tap-tap. A sharp rap from the left confessional cut our mirth short.
        "Hello, Father, are you there Father Ott?" A muffled female voice came
drifting through the wall.
        The Sister placed a big left hand on my head and firmly pushed me down
while her right index finger crossed her pursed lips in a sign to keep quiet.
She flipped her gown over me and I was in total darkness huddled between two
great legs, clutching Jesus with my pants down around my ankles.


                            The Southern Cross


        It was a moist, heated little world below, my eyes became used to the
blackness.  I could just barely see my hand if I held it to my face.  Some-
times I heard parts of sentences filtered by the thick material; at other
times we managed to communicate by other means. The Sister was counselling a
penitent who was having trouble with her boyfriend.  I strained to hear.
        "----with a Nun? Is that okay?" said a young woman in a forced whis-
per.
        "Where have I heard that before?  Of course it is!  The Father is
sick. I am filling in for him tonight. How have you sinned, praise Jesus!"
Sister Mary Comfort got right to the point.
        I heard enough to piece together some of what was going on.  It had
something to do with my own problem, only she called his cock a 'penis,' like
they do in the medical books.  The Sister asked her a lot about this guy's
cock and the answers were slow in coming.  I was distracted by the Sister's
legs. The fuzz on her thighs was soft and when I stroked them she spread her
legs out to the walls. I felt her hands close to the sides of my head through
the cloth, forcing me to nod up and down. I took that to mean 'yes.'  She was
trying to encourage me.  Resuming the exploration in my steamy tent, I reached
the tuft of soft hair where I knew all the best parts lie, and gently began
to rub it up and down.
        "And your boyfriend, has he had sex...OH YES!..um with you yet?"  the
Sister resumed, after some input from below.
        "No he hasn't----are you okay, Sister?" the young woman whispered with
obvious concern.
        "You must excuse me my emotional outbursts from time to time.  We nuns
have bouts of rapture with Jesus and this is perfectly normal."  The Sister
resumed her inquiry. "If he has not had sex with you yet, where does it all
go?  Has he wasted the blessing of the Lord?"
        "NO, no, he would never do that. He, um, well, he puts it in a jar in
the freezer."  Her voice became small and trailed off.
        "WHAT? He puts his seed in a JAR?"  Sister Mary sounded perplexed.
"What in heavens name FOR?"
        "Well, Sister, he says he can thaw it out and use it after we get
married and then he wouldn't be sinning.  Is that true?  Does that square with
God? I am confused when he says those--"  The woman drifted off again.  I was
getting real interested in other things below. Her hair was moist and had an
earthy smell.  This was
an exciting sign. The library books said this meant the females were becoming
'receptive,' meaning they were liking this. I was liking it too. I was getting
pretty stiff again and I didn't need a book to tell me what that meant. There
was supposed to be an opening under this hair called a vagina, so I parted it
with my hands to either side and began rubbing there.  It was very wet and
slippery.  Sister Mary grabbed my head again and moved it side to side slowly.
I took that to mean that I was rubbing the wrong place, so I searched other
areas until the no became yes, and finally, a very strong and eager yes. This
was the spot. I gave it priority.
        "Oh, I don't know." The whispering woman was sort of embarrassed by
the bulk of the details the Sister was trying to pull out of her. "Maybe a
quart or so. Does it matter?'
        "A QUART? You have a QUART of frozen semen in your refrigerator? Sweet
Mother Mary ! A whole---ahh---(gulp), a whole frozen----AH--AHH--(ahem). Ex-
cuse me, dear, I--OH!---OHHH!" It was very exciting to have the Sister in my
hands like this. She was very responsive. Her feet were climbing the doorsills
as she slid down on the vinyl seat to expose more of herself to my attentions.
I tried not to touch myself but I couldn't help it. I just had to! I was going
to come again and I felt it rising from below. I kept rubbing us both. Soon I
would have a problem.
        "Rapture again?" came the small voice addressing Sister Mary Comfort.
"Perhaps I should go?"
        "No! You must tell me more about this saving of sEEEEED!----OH!--Oh-OH
DEAR GOD!--OHHH! "The Sister was having a problem concentrating on the
confession.  Her knees were knocking on the walls and she had slid down on her
back. I had to cease, not because she might attract unwanted attention, but
because I had just come.  I had a pool of semen in my hand I couldn't spill.
The Sister made me promise I wouldn't. There was nothing else to do; I sucked
it up! Maybe Sister Mary liked the stuff, but I could not swallow it for
anything. It was like snot or eggwhites, really creepy. The door of the
confessional slammed as the poor lady left her strange rapturous nun in
a state of suspension.
        I was about to throw up when I felt those large hands clasp my head
again. This time she wasn't doing any shaking 'yes' or 'no's. My head got
pulled right into it; directly into the SPOT!  Immediately I was blessed with
inspiration. I didn't need to spill my seed at all, I would give it to Sister
Mary Comfort right here, between these sets of lips.  I was very proud.  Some-
times, when I had a great big hocker, like when I have a cold or something, I
would curl up my tongue with real skill so it was all in one glop, and let
that  stuff fly. Well that's what I did.  My tongue went way up in there with
all those seeds. It felt good to the Sister too so I kept it up for quite a
while. Each time my tongue shot in she screamed something about the Lord.
Maybe she got possessed or something. Sister Mary was sounding like a holy
roller; like a bunch of them!
        After a couple of minutes of this she seemed to go wild. The thumping
and bucking got scary and the screaming was busting my eardrums. Finally I was
able to stop because she went limp. I thought she died but then I realized she
had only fainted. Sometimes the Sisters faint. That's how rapture
works.  I think.  Anyway, I crawled out from under and put my pants back on.
I smoothed her gown and made her look neat. She had a peaceful look on her
face with that big, wide smile. I know she would be glad I kept my promises.
        No one was in the church when I left so I washed my face in the
Baptismal.  It was late. In a few hours I would be back here for Sunday mass.
My parents were good Catholics, they always dropped off my sister and me in
time for the service.



                              Denouement



        Jenny was tearing through the house like a jackrabbit and I was right
on her tail. Our goal was the toilet, and I prayed the lid was up. When you
gotta barf all bets are off. I was trying to grab her jeans so I could get to
hug the bowl first but she was too fast. Her head was deep down in there pas-
sing breakfast in big yawns. I couldn't pull her off.  I puked in the sink.
The sight of scrambled eggs, sausages and orange juice was enough to make me
start coughing up bits of last night's liver and onions.  Jenny was dry but
she still kept retching.  I wanted to give her a whirly for beating me to it,
but I'm not a mean kid and, after all, it was all my fault.  Now I had to
clean up the mess in the sink. Why my fault? It is a sort of complicated
story.  Breakfast wasn't really bad or anything; it was just GROSS! I'll start
back at a point after I had confessed to Sister Mary Comfort.
        The Sister and I were pretty close for the rest of the school year.
Although I wanted to confess to her a lot, Father Ott was back on the job.  I
couldn't make up sins to confess, and anyway she was real sharp on that deal.
She did make sure I wasn't spilling any seed, though. Every three or four days
she would ask me to come back after school. We were worried that if I got too
backed up I might sin again and Father Ott would have to deal with me.
        My folks weren't rich enough to have two kids in parochial school so
it was my time to switch to public school.  I was going to go to Junior high
and leave all the nuns and crucifixes and praying and those sort of things.
In Junior High you don't have uniforms or discipline or catechism. You Do have
sports and libraries with NEW books in them and, best of all, pretty Protes-
tant girls.  It was sad to leave my old friends and school, but Sister Mary
Comfort offered to tutor me personally for a couple of hours each day all
summer. She said I was very smart and she wanted to see me get a good start.
        The Sister seemed to change as the summer wore on. She got nicer and
more pretty. I noticed she no longer carried a ruler and wasn't sarcastic and
mean anymore. She seemed to always be eating, though, mostly potato chips and
Coke at first, but later, when we studied in the rectory, she would raid the
refrigerator constantly.  I would have to say that by the end of summer
vacation she looked kind of round. We had a swell time with the studies.  She
was passionate about history and knew whole lots about kings and dictators
and other systems of government.  We took long walks down by the river and she
would sometimes kiss me when we were alone. The Sister said kissing on the
lips was okay because the Church didn't say anything about it. We kissed lots.
        Labor Day weekend my dad got a call from the church. He told me that
Sister Mary Comfort wanted to see me in the rectory right away. It sounded
serious so I ran all the way over. The Sister was sitting at the kitchen table
sobbing. I sat down across from her. Her head was down as she quietly sniffled.
When she looked at me, she seemed awfully sad. Her eyes were swollen and red.
She reached over the table and I put my hands on hers.
        "Billy, I have to leave; I must go tomorrow and I will never return."
I felt her hands tremble. I tried to say something but she waved me off. "I am
going to Italy. My order is sending me away because I have been visited by a
miracle. I have a condition they need to examine. Don't worry, I'm not sick.
I just have to go away so I can serve the Lord in a special way. Please
promise me that you will do your best in school and remember, always be a good
man and help others. I know you like to tell stories, Billy, just don't tell
them without warning people first. You could write them all down on paper and
put them into a book.  That would make me happy.  It really would.  Do you
understand what I am saying, dear?"
        I was dumbstruck and crying too.  I thought she would always be here
in this little church.  She always has!  It was cruel to take her away from
me. We were best friends. We were more than that! I was outraged.  I stood and
shook my fist.
        "Sister, they can't do this. Who are they to take you away forever
just because of some medical condition? Can't you do something? This is hardly
fair. They can't claim to be Christians and do this to us. I'm gonna find out
what's going on and then I'll..."
        Sister Mary Comfort stood shakily and walked over to me.  Her eyes
were wet with tears. "Please, Billy, there are so many things you don't know
about the Catholic Church.  You must trust me, this is the best for everyone.
You are very young and these feelings will pass. I am leaving now for a great
adventure in a foreign country. Please hold me one last time?"
        I did. We sobbed and kissed and it was all very sad. Her cab arrived
just as we parted. That was the last time I saw Sister Mary Comfort. I cried
all the way home. I cried for days.
        The new school was very modern. It was called Clarence Kimball Junior
High School.  Schools were always named after dead guys.  So many kids!
Hunreds of them. The Sister was right.  Pretty soon other things became more
important. I had studies and clubs and sports but there was still one outstan-
ding problem:  no seed spilling.  Since my little sister and I shared the same
bedroom (actually, the attic) I posed the difficulty to her. I had hoped she
would be sympathetic to my needs.  Jenny slapped my face. She said I better
keep that "snake" in my pants or she would rat on me about me beating off.
 What else could I do but put it in a can and freeze it?  I kept it in an old
 tuna fish can way in the back under the frozen liver. Jenny knew about it
 and always threatened to tell Mom whenever something wasn't going her way.
 I had to keep my promise to Sister Mary Comfort in order for promises to
 have any meaning at all.
        After Christmas I was down at the Italian newsstand buying some gum
when I noticed that all the papers had the same bold headline, "MIRACOLO".
I read enough of the English language Vatican Observer to have the guy behind
the stand give me a dirty look. It seems an American nun in a small town in
Italy had a baby on Christmas eve. The article said the nun was a "certified
virgin," whatever that meant.  I guess she was a holy mother now just like the
Virgin Mary. I thought to myself that this was just another Christmas miracle
story like seeing Jesus in the tea leaves or something; but when I read that
the nun's name was Sister Mary Comfort, I was speechless.  My nun was now the
holy virgin mother of a ten pound baby girl!  One of the Italian papers had a
picture if the "Miracle Madonna."  Sure enough, there was the Sister in her
hospital bed surrounded by priests and nuns and flowers, holding her little
miracle. To tell the truth, the baby looked exactly like my ugly little sister
when she was born.  All babies look the same I think.
        I puzzled over these things all the way home. The Sister was given
to some pretty weighty raptures when I knew her. She must have received God
right there in our little church. I decided I had better start going to Mass
again. Sister Mary Comfort was right, the Lord does work his will in many
mysterious ways!
        I guess that's all there is to tell about that. Except about the big
barfing incident. My dad complained that the eggs tasted kind of funny and
my mother said she had been looking all over for her can of bacon drippings
and that someone put it in the freezer.  My sister looked at me with a
combination  of horror and disgust.  I felt the metallic taste of bile rising
in my throat. My sister put her hand to her mouth and gave a little burp. We
looked at each other again and bolted for the john.  Yeah, I know, after all
that trouble I went and spilled my seed anyway.
        Time to confess again.