The Good Sinner's Naughty Nun

by Fox, Georgia

  * * * *

  Vivienne watched as the high color faded from his face. "Thank you for the lesson, Bonnenfant. That was most informative."

  Breathless, he got to his feet and crossed the short space between them. She looked up at him. He put his trembling hand under her chin and she swallowed the scent of his seed. It was sticky on his fingers and now on her cheek too as he caressed it slowly with his thumb.

  The gesture was more menacing than anything else, but she said nothing, just let him rub his essence on her skin.

  "You're a nun," he whispered. "This is wrong."

  "But you're a sinner," she pointed out. "Why should wrong matter to you?"

  He sank to his knees, slid his hand from her face to her left breast and cupped it roughly through her woolen habit. "Forgive me, Sister. I can't help myself. My desire for you is too strong."

  Vivienne gasped as he squeezed the round flesh of her breast, rubbing his large palm over the peaking nipple, until it was almost too sensitive. She drew back, faintly protesting. But he swayed forward, grabbing her wrists, pinning them behind her back on the pallet. Then he lowered his mouth to that small nub of roused flesh and closed his lips hard around it, sucking through her clothing. Sucking without mercy.

  Instant pleasure spiked downward from the little point he tugged and licked, to the apex of her thighs, where she was already warm and wet, her pussy clenching, longing to feed on that lovely long cock she'd just seen shooting its load into the air. She let her tongue slide out to lick her lips and then as far as it could to taste his sticky seed on her cheek. He must have glanced upward at that moment, for he caught her in the act and his mouth suddenly left her breast.

  "Do you like the taste of me, Sister Vivienne?" he demanded, his hands still holding her wrists behind her back. Her torso arched, bosom thrust outward and upward.

  She nodded. Her nipple felt abandoned, swollen and dampened through her clothing, chafing on her under-shift.

  He shook his golden head. "I've sinned many times in this life, Sister Vivienne, but never like this."

  "I'm sure God will forgive."

  "No." He shook his head, his eyes very dark. "How can He? But I will only be responsible for my own downfall, not yours too. My poor, sweet," he kissed her taut nipple through the wool, "young," he lapped it just once, "pure," he nuzzled it and then his lips hovered just above it again, "virgin." He blew on it softly and she felt his hot breath drying the damp patch he'd made.

  She squirmed, trying to push it to his lips again.

  "Sister Vivienne have you been sent here to tempt me? Did the good Lord put you here before me as a test? Or is this the devil's work?"

  She said nothing. What could she say?

  "You must not fear, Sister Vivienne. I will never hurt you. Stay with me tonight. Let me taste all your delights and show you my heaven."

  "You are right, Bonnenfant," she replied after a short, heavy pause. "The desire is too strong for us both. I am in danger of letting you corrupt me, tempt me into sin."

  His right eyebrow arched, but he would not release her wrists. He was suspicious of her evidently.

  "I am weak," she added, lowering her gaze to his bare chest. "I must pay penance for this."

  "But you have done nothing, Sister Vivienne," he said, his voice cool and steady. "This is all my fault. I touched myself indecently before you. I put my crude mouth and my unworthy hands on your lovely, tender titties."

  "Yes," she said uncertainly. "Well, I..."

  "I am the one thinking about looking at your naked body and spending again in my own fist." His nostrils flared. Now he held both her wrists behind her with his left hand. "Perhaps if I can look at you. Perhaps that will appease this wicked need and keep me from worse acts against you." Slowly he slid her gown and shift to her knees. "It wouldn't be your fault, Sister Vivienne, if I should happen to see something that rouses me to devilish deeds again in your presence."

  "No." She wasn't sure what she said no to, but it seemed necessary to say it, as he pushed her gown higher up over her thighs. Then all the way to her hips.

  "You are helpless in my hands. Powerless, as you said, to stop me. There, now you are absolved in advance of any blame."

  "I'm not sure it works that way," she murmured, distracted by his warm hands stroking her bared thigh.

  "It?"

  "Absolution. I don't think you can have it in advance of the sin, Bonnenfant."

  "Hmmm. Well, you're the expert. My knowledge and experience lies in other...areas." His long fingers moved slowly along her inner thigh until they reached the crease between leg and groin. His thumb briefly stroked her pubic curls and her pulse scattered like the seeds of a dandelion clock blown free in the summer air. "So soft," he purred. "So tightly curled."

  Despite his claimed principles about nuns, he was touching her. Thank you, dear Lord! She'd never felt this much anxiety and need in her nether regions. She was usually glad to get the sex over with.

  Now his firm hand circled her ankle and lifted it to the edge of the pallet. Vivienne felt cool air wash over her damp pussy and knew she was exposed to the warrior's wicked gaze. His hand rested again on her inner thigh, warm and firm. Slowly he pushed on it, easing her further open, while he stared down at her vulnerable sex. His touch was mere inches from her entrance, fingertips trailing over the soft, dark curls of her pubic hair, just missing her labia. She tried pushing herself against his hand, but he withdrew at once and admonished her sternly.

  "Sister Vivienne, what can be the meaning of that dampness shining on your voluptuous pussy pout?"

  She bit her lip, playing the innocent. "I..I don't know...what you mean by that. What's a ...pussy pout?"

  "This." He pressed the pad of his thumb to her labia. "As pretty as the mouth on your face. Tempting my kiss."

  He rubbed his thumb back and forth, toying with her flesh. "You have a very eager pussy, Sister Vivienne. Look down," he urged huskily. "See how it blossoms."

  She closed her eyes, not needing to see.

  He gently pinched her nether lips together. "You should be in a chastity belt, Sister Vivienne, to keep you out of trouble." Then he took his hand away and her eyes flashed open. She watched him lick his fingers. "Sweeter than the wine." He moved back, kneeling before her. "Has a man—or woman—ever touched you there before?"

  She shook her head.

  "Never put their mouth on you down there?"

  "Of course not!"

  "You would not lie to me would you, Sister Vivienne?"

  Her reply was just as pert as it was equivocal. "It is a sin to lie."

  Both his hands went to his cock, already erect again.

  "I can't do this with you watching me, Sister Vivienne," he complained tersely. "It was different before, but now you would be complicit in the crime. Now you know I'm looking at your virgin womanhood as I spend, and you should close your legs and stop me. But if you can't see me looking, you are not the one at fault."

  "Oh, but I..."

  "Close your eyes. Don't look at me. 'Tis for the best. For your sake."

  "Why?" she demanded, breathless, yearning.

  "If you watch me, you might accidentally know wicked pleasure from it. You must not become excited, Sister Vivienne, or else that makes you a sinner, too. There's no hope for me. For you there is."

  Damn him and his ideas about keeping her free of blame. Was the man addled? Couldn't he see and feel how much she wanted him?

  His eyes had become strangely opaque as he gazed at her. "Turn around then," he whispered. "On your hands and knees. I'll look at you that way." His lips moved stiffly over his teeth, as if he fought to keep from grinning. "Then you won't see what I do. You won't be tempted to touch yourself, Sister Vivienne. Even if you open your eyes by accident, you won't see."

  Vivienne realized he would not let her climax at all if he had his way. Damn him.

  Then she'd do it her way.

  So she turned over onto her knees, hiked her gown up, bent
over and spread her legs.

  "Sister Vivienne," he snapped, "don't touch your—"

  She disobeyed before he could complete his warning, sliding a hand between her legs, rubbing herself, arching her back and sticking her lower body high in the air to be sure he saw. If he resisted this, she thought churlishly, the man was inhuman.

  * * * *

  Thierry choked on his own spittle as he drew a series of rapid, taut breaths, watching her fingers work expertly at the pink jewel nestled between the full lips of her pussy. Her first climax was almost instantaneous. He saw her tremble, heard her low groans, witnessed the tightening pulse in her thighs, cheeks and core where the pink nether lips tightened on her fingers. He shuffled close enough on his knees to see moisture form on her petals and her fingertips. His cock reacted in sympathy, spewing a bead of warning. It wouldn't be long before he came too, unless he proceeded carefully.

  She was not done at that point. Now she drew her fingers over her slit with a slower movement. Her nether lips were glossy with intimate dew, the flesh roused and glowing, waiting for him. She panted and purred, writhing on his pallet, sticking her bottom in the air, showing off her cunt.

  As he worked his cock slowly, not wanting to spend again too quickly, the tent flap lifted and Dominic looked in. Before the other man could speak, Thierry lifted a finger to his own lips and winked. Although he gestured for the soldier to enter, Dominic remained in the entrance, his scarred face reddening, fierce eyes pinned to Sister Vivienne's bared backside and pussy.

  Thierry squeezed his cock gently and massaged his growing shaft. He shifted forward again on his knees, drawing ever closer to the pallet. Again he silently encouraged Dominic in, but the other man hung back, staring, his own breeches soon bulging in a shocked salute. Dominic was the cautious sort and regarded women on the whole with trepidation. The scar on his face made him look more fearsome than he was—a valuable asset in a fight, but it did him no favors with wenches who often shrank away in horror. Thierry was disappointed he couldn't tempt the other man in, but on the other hand, perhaps he'd enjoy this one alone. Another novelty.

  He heard the hitch of her startled breath when his hand smacked against her arse cheek, but only a second later that same breath turned into a squeal of shock when he wrapped his arm tight around her hips, slammed his open mouth to her twitching pussy, and stabbed his tongue between her sopping wet labia. Grunting ferociously, he sucked the next orgasm—and the next—right out of her keening, shuddering body.

  As she cursed at him for tricking her, Thierry laughed into her squeezing nether mouth and flicked his bold tongue rapidly inside her, delighting in his victory. He'd taken the little witch by surprise. Yes, now he knew she was a lying witch and not a nun. She struggled belatedly, and not very hard, to get away. But his arm was merciless around her hips and she could jerk and curse all she wanted, he would feast his fill. She could not even kick him from this pose, while he was between her knees. He had her right where he wanted her.

  Serve her right for trying to fool him into believing her a nun. Letting him think she was out of bounds. Not now she wasn't. The moment he smelled that scent in her hair he should have realized. What nun would go to the trouble of scenting her hair? Why would she keep it long and so full? Surely that was a vanity. But not until she sat and watched him empty his seed, barely flinching at the sight, was he certain of this fraud.

  He'd never been so relieved to discover a lie in his life.

  Standing, he lifted her off the pallet, her upper body dangling over his arm as he continued supping from that sweet dish of honey. She must have grown dizzy with the blood rushing to her head, for her legs gave up their kicking and closed instead around his waist, ankles locked behind his back for more stability.

  Suddenly he felt her hand on his cock. Her head still hanging upside down, her hair stroking his thighs with every sway, she directed the head of his phallus to her lips. Her tongue explored the sensitive underside, before she opened her mouth wider and sucked the crown between her soft, but firm lips.

  He shuddered and then, with a feral cry smothered deep in the folds of her cunny, Thierry jettisoned his thick cream for the second time that evening, this time into Sister Vivienne's mouth for sure.

  Chapter Six

  "Nectar of the Gods." He laughed as she finally writhed free, falling on her belly across his pallet, orgasms still fluttering and dying within her. He slapped her rump hard and then she heard him say, "What did you want, Dominic?"

  She had not known the other soldier was there. Gasping she moved to turn over, but the villainous letch Bonnenfant held her down with one strong hand on the small of her back while he calmly conferred on some business with his man. Vivienne was too preoccupied even to listen. He'd tricked her and now he was in control of the situation, exactly what she didn't want to happen. A tremor of anger ripped through her as he forcefully held her down. She did not like his rough-handling, but she could not deny the intense, bone-shaking pleasure he'd given her with his mouth moments before. In truth she did not know which emotion won out. She was hotter than a cauldron on a campfire, bubbling over with want to have him inside her. Hopefully, once she got that out of her system, she could put her mind to finding that key and getting on with her mission there.

  "You will get some sleep tonight, I hope, my lord?" she heard Dominic mutter doubtfully.

  "Eventually," came the husky reply. "You look a little envious, Dom. Care to join us a while?"

  There was silence and she, face down on the pallet, had no idea whether the other man stayed or left.

  "Let me up, Bonnenfant," she exclaimed, kicking.

  "After the way you teased and tormented me this evening, wench? Making me think you a nun, so high above a rotten sinner like me? Untouchable?" His breath was hot on the nape of her neck as he swept her long hair aside. "I think not." In the next startled breath she heard cloth ripping, too smoothly to be by hand. He was cutting her gown off her. "Lie still," he grunted. "I wouldn't want you to feel a prick. Just yet."

  "Let me turn over."

  "No. What were you up to around my horse?"

  "I told you already. I refuse to waste my words thrice."

  "Who sent you to distract me, wench? Someone seeks to sabotage my mission. You may as well confess all and save yourself." Callused hands stroked her buttocks, parted them, squeezed them hard. "From the skill with which you bewitched me I can only assume you're a very expensive whore."

  "No doubt you have familiarity with expensive whores," she muttered dryly.

  He laughed, one long finger stroking her labia, sliding betwixt them, feeling for her wetness. She was surprised he hadn't drunk it all out of her. She'd never a known a man to go at it so greedily. "A fair amount," he admitted candidly." Although I never pay for it."

  "Naturally."

  He spanked her arse again and then she heard him ask Dominic to help him with his boots. So the other man had stayed to watch or participate. Excitement escalated. The other soldier was a big, strong fellow—the quiet type. Not so handsome as Bonnenfant, and considerably less enamored with himself, he hung back slightly and had to be coaxed forward again.

  "Come, Dom. Don't be shy. She won't bite. Much."

  Again, rough hands parted her arse cheeks.

  She scowled, lifting up onto her elbows. "I don't do that." She never allowed cock in her arse, although some men had wanted it. She always found ways to dissuade them from it and offer other treats instead.

  "Really, Sister Vivienne, you surprise me."

  She jumped when she felt his wet fingertip prying. Of course he wouldn't listen to her, would he? She squeezed her muscles around his determined finger and he swore. Abruptly a broad cock head breached her pussy entrance. She closed her eyes, inhaling the startled gasp of pleasure.

  Vivienne pushed back with her hips, merrily impaling herself further on his broadsword, but he jerked away, half sliding out of her, and she mewled in protest. He laughed and rammed back in, f
illing her again, his heavy balls smacking against her swollen, heated labia. Naturally, she thought crossly, it had to be in his control, at his pace. Again he surged forward. Crying out, she clung to the far edge of the pallet and rested her brow on the fur blanket while he proceeded to claim her body with a ruthless pounding fuck such as she'd never had. Through it all he kept his finger in her anus and when he wriggled it artfully, pushing deeper into unexplored territory, a jolt of scalding delight jagged down to the most sensitive part of her cunny. It held her transfixed, shook the breath out of her in a long scream and then she exploded, grinding on his cock, climaxing so hard that her world vanished. Reality disappeared in a flash of white lightening.

  * * * *

  Damn she was good. Tight as a second skin over his dick and hungry for it, her cunt massaging him with deliberate strokes, almost begging for his seed to be emptied deep inside her. He was amazed at how rapidly his peak closed in again. No stranger to lengthy sessions in bed, even he had never finished three times in half an hour. He'd almost forgotten Dominic's presence, until the other man drew closer and ran a big, shy, fumbling hand through her hair. Teeth gritted, Thierry slowed his thrust, making certain she enjoyed every kiss of his pulsating shaft inside her lovely pussy.

  "I think Dominic needs his cock tended to," he managed, his breath shallow and quick. After all, he had invited the man to stay, it wouldn't be sporting to leave him out in the cold.

  She raised her head and looked over her shoulder as far as she could. Her dark eyes gleamed wickedly, fixed on the other man's rigid erection.