Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,85

I refuse to break. I've been doing so well controlling myself for a long time; until she came along.

I can't think about her. Especially not now.

Don't kid yourself; she's the reason you're up here palming your dick right now. If this isn't you breaking, I don't know what is.

I sincerely hate you sometimes.

I hold my breath as my balls clench, preparing to expel the evidence of my sin all over the hand towel that I'm using. Just as I am about to come, I picture her.

Sister Suri.

I picture her tied to the cross. Her habit is lying on the ground beneath her. She's bared to me and ready for punishment, prepared for me to paint her porcelain body a rosy pink with my flogger, my cane, my hands.

The second I come, a sharp hitching of breath sounds from the hallway, and I lift my head quickly, locking eyes with her reflection in the mirror in front of me. My eyes widen upon seeing her, watching me from the top of the stairs.

Sister Suri.

I stand and tuck myself back into my pants as quickly as possible, zipping carefully, and I take off, down the stairs, after her. Stopping just outside of the Rectory, I remember that I'm not wearing a shirt. My eyes are unable to look away from her retreating form as she runs, quickly, toward the church. She doesn't attempt a look in my direction until she reaches the door.

Once she gets there, she turns her head and looks back at me before pulling the door open. Her eyes plead for forgiveness. She's trying to tell me that she didn't see anything; that she didn't get a glimpse of the devil inside me. She's begging me to believe that she will forget all about it.

I can't. Not yet, anyway. I have to see Monsignor now. It's no longer a question. He will help me to forgive myself.

And what about Suri?

My eyes narrow as a sly smile spreads across my face. I will get Sister Suri on my cross before she crawls further beneath my skin.

Don't worry, child. God forgives you. But Daddy Stone doesn't. Yet.

Suri

I barely made it through the rest of the day before the van came to pick me up and bring me back here, to the monastery. Thank Go-- uh, thank goodness I didn't see Father Stone again. I think I might need to pretend I'm sick tomorrow. There is no way I can go back there and face him knowing he knows that I saw what he was doing.

Does he know that I wished he was fucking me instead of jacking-off?

It's so wrong but, fuck, it made me so hot. I haven't been in the mood for anything in such a long time. I can't help the way I feel right now, but I don't care at the same time. It's not as if I am a real nun. I need to come, though; I feel like I am going to explode.

"Sister Suri? Are you coming to dinner?" Sister Dawn asks as I walk down the hall toward my room.

"Huh? Oh, um, no. I'm not feeling well."

"Is there anything I can do--" I hear her say as I turn and walk away from her.

The last thing I want to do is sit at a silent table full of nuns slurping their soup and praying for world peace. I need inner peace right now.

When I get to my room, I undress out of my habit. I lay back over the side of my bed and place the heels of my feet on the bed frame. I let my knees fall to the side; my legs are spread wide, opening me up. Cold air swirls around my room, and it tickles my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure to my core.

I inhale my shock and bring my fingers to my lips. I slide my first three fingers into my mouth and get them nice and slick before mixing my saliva with the cum oozing from my slit. Gliding my fingers through the stickiness, I coat my skin in moisture and begin to circle my clit. Immediately, a tingling sensation overtakes me. I cry out, but I'm able to quiet my reaction to a whimper quickly.

I run my hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples. Each pinch sends another shock straight to my clit, pushing me closer to an edge that I haven't been on in far too long. My hand moves from my breasts to my pussy.