Brad Morgan - Horny naughty nun

Now that she'd saved all the cum she could, she nuzzled her head down on Father Ryan's thighs and gave herself up completely to the pleasure of Father Flynn's fucking. The younger priest was every bit as hot as she was, and each one of the strokes of his big cock seemed harder and deeper and faster than the last. She had to clamp her teeth together to keep them from rattling to the insistent rhythm of the priest's frenzied fucking.

He hadn't forgotten the lessons she'd taught him about tit-feeling, and he'd even gone on to teach her a few things about it as he experimented with her luscious tits. His pinching and pulling and stroking of her hot nipples had made them hard as rocks, and they stuck out from their pebbly pink halos like the tips of her thumbs. Each touch of his newly, expert fingers sent a flash of hot lightning straight down to her cunt, igniting new nerves and switching on engines that she hadn't even known she possessed. She whimpered and groaned, her saliva drooling unheeded onto Father Tom's thigh as she abandoned herself utterly to the incredible pleasure of fucking the young priest.

The cock-crazed young nun thought that the priest was fucking her as fast as anyone could fuck, but she was proved wrong. He had been kneeling upright, presumably to let Father Ryan get a good view of the fucking-action, but now he was galloping into the homestretch, and he leaned over her like a jockey over a horse and threw his ass into high gear.

Her previous orgasms had been like the beating of angels wings in her cunt, but now, as Father John's cock began throbbing and spurting hot cum into her, it was as if a host of six-winged seraphim were thundering their pinions in her skyrocketing pussy and bearing her up beyond the throne of God.

Sitting between them on the couch and letting them taking turns kissing her as they groped her tits and thighs and ass, Sister Mary Grace couldn't say which of the cunt-hungry priests she liked the best.

Father Tom Ryan was devastatingly handsome, but his electric-blue eyes were almost too intense, sometimes even crazy-looking. His blond hair was going gray at temples, which made him look distinguished, but she had to admit that his body was somewhat on the flabby side.

By contrast, Father John Flynn had a great body, lean and hard from his dedication to jogging and tennis. The younger nuns would go out of their way to catch glimpses of him in his running shorts, and they spent much time giggling about the size of the bulge at his crotch. Sister Grace could now tell them – although she surely never would – that the wildest speculations about the size of his cock were true. His body was slight, though, and his hair was fine and nothing-colored, she guessed he would be bald before long. His horn rimmed glasses made him look more intellectual and trustworthy than Father Tom – to tell the truth, Father Tom reminded her less of that Irish movie actor than he did of the Devil himself, and she had been having nightmares recently in which that was who he really was. Father John's best feature was his enormous cock. Unfortunately it lay limp in her hand now as she kissed him.

Turning to kin Father Tom, she decided that she liked him best, because his prick was stiff and hard again, and she gave her a nice, hot handful to feel.

"Sister," he murmured as he probed her cum slimed cunt with his fingers and she spread her legs wider to let him in. "Forgive me. I tried to resist temptation, but I just had to fuck your pretty mouth."

She just murmured lazily as she played with his hard prick.

"I'm doing this for your own good," he said, "and you mustn't think that my only motivation is just."

"Yes, Father," she said, peeling his prick up and down with her fingers as she half-turned to let Father John kiss her and feel her tits. As soon as she had finished giving the younger priest a long, tongue-tangling kiss, she turned and bent down to take Father Tom's cock in her mouth.

"No, Sister," he said, gently drawing her away from his stiff cock. "Help me resist that temptation."

"Please, Father – my cunt is kind of sore from Father John's big prick. Can't I blow you again?"

"No," he said, and she winced at her own presumptuousness. "Father John, would you please go to the closet and get my chrismatory. The flash used for baptism would be appropriate."

Sister Grace knew that a chrismatory contained three flasks of chrism, or scented and consecrated oil, one used for baptisms, a second for anointing the sick and a third for the dead. Did he really mean to put the holy oil on her cult just to ease its soreness? It seemed sacrilegious, but she had to accept that be knew what he was doing better than she did.

"Wouldn't the one for the sick be better, Father? Since my cunt is sore?"

Father Tom chuckled and gave her a hug, avoiding an answer by sucking one of her tits into his mouth. After a few seconds of his talented tonguing, she no longer cared about getting an answer.

When Father Flynn had returned with the desired flask, Father Ryan surprised her, instead of putting the holy oil on her cunt, he smeared it all over his cock. Soon his prick, scented of balsam, was sticking up as stiff and hard as it could be in its slick coat of oil.

"Turn over, Sister," he said, guiding Sister Grace onto her hands and knees on the couch.

She needed no second invitation. The two priests had been kissing and feeling the cock hungry young man for a good fifteen minutes now, and it had been even longer since Father John had fucked her. Sore or not, her cunt was hot and ready for his cock, and she squirmed her ass invitingly as she raised her cunt to an idea angle for penetration. She felt the head of his cock pushing hard against her.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" she cried. "Father! You-you're in the wrong hole! Put it in my cunt – please!"

"Now, hold still and be quiet, Sister. You said your cunt was sore, and it's time you discovered another pleasure of the flesh. It's time your asshole was baptized, and I'm using holy oil to do it. Would you reject it?"

"Oh, Father, I just can't? It hurts! Please don't stick your cock in my ass!" she sobbed, trying to avoid his greasy prick, but prevented from moving away by his strong hands.

"Father John those seminary experiences you told me about must have taught you a thing or two – can you tell Sister Grace how to make it easier for herself?"

Even in her extremity of anguish, Grace noticed that Father John blushed charmingly. He muttered, "Just make believe you're taking a shit, Sister. That's the trick to relaxing your asshole."

It wasn't easy. Against her will, her asshole clamped tight and seemed trying to crawl up into her body to get away from Father Tom's cock. Even with its coat of holy oil, it felt like he was trying to shove a railroad spike up her asshole.

But whether her asshole liked it or not, he was getting in. She sobbed bitterly against the pain and struggled to follow Father John's advice, but some inhibition against taking a shit in the rectory's study with two priests watching prevented her from relaxing. She begged for a little more time, but Father Tom was so hot and horny that he couldn't wait, his cock kept drilling painfully into her ass.

Overcoming her inhibition at last by force of necessity, she found just the right combination of muscles and pushed her asshole out lightly. The result was miraculous. Father Tom's cock began sliding in even more easily than an especially large turd might have slid out. Her asshole was still sore from her earlier resistance, but that pain began to fade and grow dull as she tingled with a thrill of accomplishment.

That wasn't the only thrill she felt, either. Her asshole had always been particularly sensitive to pleasurable sensations; she loved it when Sisters Ursula or Phrygia fucked it with their fingers. But their fingers were nothing compared to the size and length of Father Tom's hard cock. It rubbed and squeezed against deliciously sensitive areas in her asshole that their fingers had never touched, and whose existence she had never even begun to imagine.