The Devil’s Pact Chapter 7: The Date
The Devil’s Pact Chapter 7: The Date
Sex Story Author: | mypenname3000 |
Sex Story Excerpt: | I reached back behind my neck, undoing the lacings that held my dress up. The fabric fell away, |
Sex Story Category: | Blowjob |
Sex Story Tags: | Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Exhibitionism, Fantasy, Female solo, Female/Female, First Time, Lesbian, Male / Females, Male/Female, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Virginity |
The Devil’s Pact
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2013
Chapter Seven: The Date
“I’m so sorry about the mix-up, Sister Louise,” the check-in clerk at Chicago’s O’Hare International said, disbelief tinging her voice whenever she said “sister”. The clerk, Nancy, still didn’t quite believe I was a nun. I couldn’t blame her since I was dressed in a tight, cobalt blue dress that barely covered my ass and had a deep, plunging neckline. I was wearing stiletto hills that made my ass nice and perky, and thigh high, black stockings held up by garters that peeked out beneath my skirt. My gold crucifix was nestled between the exposed slopes of my breasts.
For the last thirty years, I have been Sister Louise Afra, of the Order of the Sisters of of Mary Magdalene, dedicated to the fight against the Forces of Darkness. To aid us in our mission, certain gifts had been bestowed upon Sisters and I by the Highest, through his Agent, the Archangel Gabriel. One of those gifts was youthful beauty. I was fifty-one, but still had the perky breasts, smooth skin, fresh face, and tight ass of an eighteen year old. I was gifted with Sight, allowing me to see the mark of Evil on people and the Providence of God would guide me in my mission. So long as I had faith, chance and coincidence would lead me unerringly to my goal.
My mission, and the purpose of my Order, was to exorcise Warlocks and free their Thralls. Warlocks were the misguided men and women who sold their souls to the Devil in exchange for three wishes. Depending on their wishes, a lot of damage could be done. Most Warlocks, particularly males, made some request that allowed them to dominate others and make them their Thralls, usually to fulfill some pathetic, sexual desire. The only way to stop a Warlock, short of killing him, was to exorcise him. And that was what the dress, and the other skimpy clothing in my suitcase, were for. To exorcise a Warlock, I had to fuck him, or her, and when they orgasmed, I would rob them of their powers. Seduction was one of the many tools we nuns used.
Of course, fucking a man out of wedlock or engaging in lesbian sex were mortal sins. While I could go to confession after my mission was done and gain absolution, it was far simpler for my Order to receive a Papal Indulgence. So, after the Ecstasy came upon me two hours ago, sending me on my mission, a Papal Indulgence arrived by fax, signed by the Pope himself. I was forgiven, in advance, for all my sins I would commit until my mission was done.
And I planned to sin a lot!
It was one of the perks of fighting evil. So, after the Ecstasy passed, I packed my bags in a hurry, excited fight some evil, and get laid. Suitcases in hand, I walked out of the small, caretakers house at St. Thomas and found a cab idling on the street. Some would call that lucky, but I had faith that Providence was at work. Until my Mission was complete, the Lord would guide me to those who would help me until I was ready to face the Warlock. When I arrived at O’Hare, I still had no idea where I was going. I just had faith that if I walked up to the check-in counter, God would provide.
“Well, here’s your tickets, Sister,” Nancy said and I smiled warmly at her, stroking her hand gently as she handed me my boarding pass. She jerked her hands back and gave me a weird look. She probably not used to a woman, let alone a nun, flirting with her. “Sorry for the system error,” Nancy said, standoffish.
I sighed, glancing at the tickets, I had an hour kill before my flight and spending that time with Nancy, maybe in a cozy bathroom stall, would have been nice. After I had spent three years in a female Warlock’s harem thirty years ago, I had grown fond of women. The many different shapes their breasts could take, or the curves of her hips and ass, and all the different shapes and sizes a woman’s labia could form. I licked my lips, thinking of the varied musk a woman exudes when she’s aroused. I was getting wet just thinking about it.
I looked at my tickets to see where I was headed. I had a non-stop flight to Sea-Tac International Airport, departing in forty-minutes and scheduled to land in Seattle at 12:20 am, local time. I tried to do math in my head and thought it was almost a four and a half hour flight.
Sea-Tac, huh. I smiled, it had been twelve years since I had been to Washington State on a mission. I had stopped this Warlock who thought he was a rock-and-roller, using his power to convince people how amazing he sounded on guitar and recruiting about a dozen women to his harem. I had exorcised him and rescued the women. I recruited one of the women to the order. I started reminiscing about Sister Theodora Mariam as I queued through the TSA screening.
Sister Theodora had been a wreck after being freed. The Warlock had made her divorce the husband she loved and abandon her three daughters. She required a <i>lot</i> of consoling afterwords. We had spent two wonderful weeks on the California coast, making love on the beach, or anywhere else we could get our hands on each other, before she took her vows and my Papal Indulgence expired.
When I boarded my flight, I was one of only three people in First Class, the other two being frazzled business men who quickly fell asleep after take off. The First Class stewardess was a dusky beauty named Sarai, who wore a white, long sleeved shirt and navy blue vest that her tits nicely filled out. A navy blue pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips and legs. Her face had an exotic beauty to it and her accent was musical. When she handed me my champagne, her finger’s lingered a moment on my wrist, igniting fire that ran down my body and quickened my loins.
I smiled seductively at her. “I’m Sister Louise,” I purred.
“I’m Sarai,” she answered back. “Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything. It’s my job to <i>satisfy</i> any need you have.”
After the flight leveled out, Sarai brought me a second flute of champagne and sat in the seat across the aisle from me. She had her own flute, and held her finger up to her lip. “Shhh, it’s our little secret.”
“I’m sure you’ve earned it,” I flirted back, winking.
“You have no idea,” she sighed, rubbing a foot in her dark blue, comfortable looking shoes. “But its worth it when you meet such <i>beautiful</i> people.”
“I bet,” then I looked around and leaned over the aisle, and slid her shoe off and socks and massaged her foot. Sarai shifted in her seat, turning so her feat dangled over the armrest into the aisle.
“Umm, that’s nice,” Sarai purred. “So, is is business or pleasure that brings you to Seattle?”
“Both,” I answered. “I’m a nun, a Magdalenite Sister. I have somethings to attend to in Seattle, but I’m hoping to experience some of the <i>pleasure’s</i> of the Northwest.”
Sarai seemed puzzled. “A nun, huh? You’re not what I expected.” Clearly she wasn’t used to a nun hitting on her, but she relaxed as I continued rubbing her foot with firm pressure, kneading her soles with my thumb. I leaned over to, pretending to get a better grip on her foot, but really to let her get a good view down my cleavage.
“My order is very unorthodox,” I answered, switching to her other foot. Her legs spread and I quite a brief gimps of her panties. Leopard print, what a naughty girl.
“I’m Muslim,” Sarai confided, “so I haven’t had a lot of <i>experience</i> with nuns.”
“I’ve always wandered, but is the mile high club a real thing?” I asked, continuing my massage. “I mean, have you ever heard of people, you know, in the lavatories?”
Sarai giggled, getting a little tipsy from the champagne. “It happens, occasionally. We try to be discrete if we discover it. Usually, if you knock on the door it flusters the couple so much that they quickly leave.”
“Have you ever done it?”
There was a naughty twinkle in her eye. “Maybe.”
“Ohh, you naughty girl, you have!” I whispered, excitedly and she just shrugged her shoulders. I let go of her foot and downed the rest of my champagne and felt a pressure in my bladder. “Excuse me, I need to pop into the ladies room real quick.”
Sarai smiled warmly and finished off her champagne.
I stood up, grabbing my beaded purse, and stumbled a bit as the plane hit some turbulence. I made it to the First Class lavatory and slipped in, quickly doing my business, washed my hands and checked my makeup in the mirror. My face was round and doll-like with sky gray eyes and plump lips that just begged to be kissed. I touched up my red lipstick and adjusted my tits so they were more visible and opened the door, eager to get back to flirting with Sarai.
Only, she was standing there waiting for me, a hungry look on her face.
I pulled her into the lavatory, kissing her fiercely. It had been three years since my last Mission. Three years of furtive masturbation to memories of old lovers. I was ready to make some new memories to last me through the next dry spell. Sarai tongue was hot and dexterous as she probed my mouth. She shoved me against the wall and pulled up my dress skirt, exposing my black garters and the curly thatch of light brown pubic hair.
“Are you really a nun?” Sarai asked, sliding a finger slowly though my vulva. She brushed my clit and I shuddered in delight. “I mean, what kind of nun doesn’t wear panties?”
“Oh, yes, I’m a nun!” I moaned. “But we’re still human. We still have desires!”
I captured her lips in another kiss as her finger slowly rubbed circles on my clit. “But, how can you be gay and still be a nun?” she pressed, teasing my clit so wonderfully. Electricity surged through my body, tingling along all my nerves.
“We all serve the Lord in our own ways,” I panted. “We all have our sins we struggle with, crosses we bear. Oh, fuck, you’re making me cum, you hot little bitch!”
Sarai kissed my lips, stiffing my moans as I came on her fingers. Fuck, that was good. It had been far too long. “You are a bad nun, aren’t you!” Sarai hissed, licking my fingers and then holding them up so I could taste myself. “A naughty nun who loves to sin!”
“Yes! Do you always fuck your passengers in the bathroom?” I asked.
“Only the beautiful ones,” Sarai said and started to unbutton her vest. Her shirt followed, slipping to the floor of the lavatory revealing a strapless, leopard print bra that clasped in the front. The bra matched the panties I glimpsed up her skirt, earlier. I reached out and freed her tits. They were plump and full, so I rubbed my face between them, enjoying her silky skin. I found a hard, dark nipple and sucked it into my mouth. “Umm, that’s nice,” moaned Sarai.
I kissed down her stomach and she giggled as I tongued her cute bellybutton. My hands slid down her hips, down her legs, and then raised her skirt so it bunched about her hips. Her leopard print panties were wet with desire, pulled tight so I could see her delicious cameltoe. I breathed in her arousal, an intoxicating musk. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down. Her pussy was shaved bare, vulva glistening with sticky juices. For a moment a gleaming line of girl cum linked pussy and panties before it snapped. Her pussy was beautiful, clit hard and throbbing, vulva red with passion.
<i>Thank you, Lord, for this bounty,</i> I prayed silently, then feasted on her womanhood. My tongue wiggled in to her tight slit and found resistance.
“You’re a virgin!” I gasped, in surprise.
“A good Muslim girl saves herself for marriage,” Sarai answered, rotely.
“Allah doesn’t have a problem with fingering another woman?” I asked, suspiciously.
She giggled. “No more than Jesus has a problem with you eating another woman’s cunt.” The minx had me there.
I found it exciting to eat out a virgin’s cunt, even if she was only technically a virgin. I could not fuck my tongue deeply into her pussy as I would like, so I settled for lapping along her labia, drinking her musky flavor. My thumb found her hard little clit and rubbed it in fast, hard circles as devoured her sex while Sarai gasped and grounded, tits heaving with excitement.
“Oh yes,” Sarai moaned quietly, “eat my virgin cunt! Oh, fuck, you’re tongue feels amazing on my virgin pussy.” She panted hard, and, as her orgasm approached, she lost her English, chanting in Arabic, <i>“Elhas kussi! Elhas kussi! Sharmoota elhas kussi!”</i> Musky cream flooded my mouth, drenching my face with her passion and I drank her bounty. She was panting, eyes closed, and whispered, “That was amazing!”
I smiled as I rose kissed her. She eagerly licked her musk off my face. God had delivered me a virgin, and I was excited to take my reward. I reached for my purse. She eyed me curious as I rooted around in my beaded purse then pulled out a small, purple dildo and the strap-on harness. Fear quickened in her eye, and she backed away from me as I pulled the strap-on up my slender legs.
“We should be leaving,” Sarai said, licking her lips, nervously. “The other passenger’s might be awake.”
I adjusted the straps, making sure the dildo rubbed on my hard clit, and the smiled hungrily at her. “I thought you said you were here to <i>satisfy</i> me?”
“Please, miss.” Sarai backed up, bumping into the door.
To read the rest of this story, you need to support us, over on Patreon, for as little as £1.99
Join here: patreon.com/FantasyFiction_FF
Rate this story
Average Rating: 0 (0 votes)