Sister Edith had no idea about the punishment administered to Sister Rosa. Nor did she really understand about the inner circle and how it operated.
That was not important. Sister Edith was a horny woman. All the time. She'd long since realised it had been a mistake to take her vows. Edith knew that her struggle with unclean thoughts was more ferocious than most nuns. But she loved her job. The Order of the Mount had given her considerable responsibility working in one of its youth out-reach programs. Edith spent all day working with and inspiring young people to do good works for the poor and under-privileged. And she spent most nights watching porn and masturbating. She already had an illicit vibrator to substitute for a real cock.
Also, she spent hours each week with a sexy man who she adored and lusted after. Father Brendan was a handsome Irish man with a seductive accent. His blue eyes frequently flashed with passion. But Edith had also been drawn to his strength -- both his dedication to his work and the swimmer's body he kept under his religious clothing. Many an evening was taken up with thoughts of the delicious Father Brendan as she slammed a seven-inch dildo into her gushing cunt.
If anything, her problems had gotten worse after an accidental confession from one of her sister nuns. Wine had been involved. Her friend had blurted out something about sex -- to which Edith had retorted that her friend had no idea what she was talking about.
Next morning, as they nursed hangovers, Edith had been curious enough to press her friend for more details. That was when the confession had happened -- her friend confiding a deadly serious secret that she had a burning need to reveal to a friend. But a secret that must never go further for fear that her friend would suffer severe consequences. Edith had understood as soon as her friend began to reveal the truth about a small circle of nuns who had sex, with men and women, to gain special favours for the Order. Her friend had been "ordered" to have sex with a priest who was needed as an ally.
Sister Edith had no inkling that other nuns, such as her close colleague Sister Claire, were also engaged in carnal relations that somehow were not forbidden to this group of nuns. She had assumed she'd never have the chance for so much as a passionate kiss from Father Brendan.
*****************
Outside of the priesthood, Father Brendan would have been described as a "lady killer". He was in his mid-thirties with a handsome face and an Irish accent that made mortal women swoon. There was no doubt that he enjoyed their attention, even members of his congregation. Mostly that was explained away by his easy charm -- as if it was hardly his fault that women found excuses to spend time with the lovely priest.
It was true, too, that he had sowed his oats as a young man. So he understood some of what made women tick. As a busy priest, he was expected to deny himself the company - and more - of eager women. Though he could not ignore that he had taken advantage of some opportunities even as a man of the cloth. The most recent had been a somewhat desperate widow in her late forties with big tits who'd proven, in her own bed, to be more of a starfish than a passionate lover.
Sister Edith liked to flash her sexy blue eyes at him and catch him with an enticing smile. But he knew there was a lot of risk in succumbing to the temptations of a nun. Not least that Edith herself might not realise how eager he was to sample her wares. He tried to tell himself that she was not his "type". Her small breasts would surely be a disappointment. Her short legs probably closed over a hairy, sweaty snatch. And surely, above all, it was a folly to imagine that there was any chance to bed a nun.
For Father Brendan had no idea of just how lustful some nuns could be. The inner circle of the Order of the Mount was hidden from him. He had heard a story of a priest, an old friend, who had fucked more than one nun. He told himself many times that Sister Edith was a standard temptation. He would bide his time until a safer option presented itself. Such was the life of a hot-blooded priest.
He didn't change his mind even after a long drive with Sister Edith beside him as they returned from an afternoon meeting. She was as chatty as usual.
"You have an admirer amongst those young women," ventured Edith with a sly grin.
"Not at all, Sister. Our female flock are grateful for everything that our project provides them."
"Oh no, Father. I was watching. Young Susan is more than grateful. She most definitely has improper thoughts about her lovely Irish priest."
Edith half-hoped -- and half-feared -- that Father Brendan might realise that she, too, wanted nothing more than to experience intimacy with him. Being a virgin hardly made her celibacy any more bearable. But the priest tried to laugh-off her observations.
****************************
Mrs Jane Edmonds was an observant woman. She had seen a string of knew that he was tempted. Being a successful flirt herself, Mrs Edmonds understood that the good priest was not all he pretended -- it only required the right woman to seduce him into bed.
Jane was a tallish woman with long brown hair and an attractive figure. Regarded by some as a "soccer mom", she worked to stay in shape. In her early thirties, she had a little more spread than she liked. Her C-cup breasts were a little fuller these days. Though they still sat firm and proud. And she enjoyed the way her long legs drew admiring glances from men. Happily married, Jane guessed that she enjoyed a better sex life than did many of her friends.
The truth about Jane Edmonds was that she enjoyed cheating on her husband. One time, before they were married, had been a short fling with his friend who'd been besotted - and devastated not to have won her for himself. Soon after the wedding she had zeroed-in on a gorgeous black man who she often bumped into at the gym. The fact that they mostly had sex in his car only added to the excitement.
Mrs Edmonds did her best to carefully protect her secret sex life. No more than when she'd allowed her husband's boss to fuck her on several occasion when he was interstate with business. She'd lost touch with that man after hubby had changed jobs. Her husband would never learn her secrets and Jane was determined to go on having fun.
Father Brendan was an obvious choice. Taboo and, for that same reason, a real prize. She never minded that the priest pretended to be oblivious, to be disinterested. The glint in his eyes told her different.
Despite her sinful ways, Mrs Edmonds was an eager volunteer at the church and had many opportunities to work her magic. Always discreet, she began to share her special smile with him. She was clever enough to get him alone on more than one occasion. There was a small office to the side of the church. It had been easy to lean forward and show-off her deep cleavage. And thrilling to see his lingering looks. Father Brendan could not have had any doubts from the way she touched him -- a soft hand on his arm or his shoulder, held there for a little too long.
The other bitches would never know her secret. But Jane Edmonds was a hunter. She had never fucked a priest and this one was a wonderful specimen. It was a matter of time.
****************************
Part of the strange workings of the universe was that Mrs Edmonds should try her luck on the same day that Sister Edith had made mention of the young woman in the meeting. The married woman had no idea that Father Brendan was extra horny with thoughts of the pretty nun and his young admirer. On her way home from work, she'd promised the Father to complete a small job in the office.
By then she was braless. And flashing her sexiest smile as they met in the carpark. Jane made sure to help the priest carry a bundle of papers inside. With a deft kick, she closed the door behind them.
"Oh no, Mrs Edmonds," he tried to protest. "Its policy to leave the door open. You understand."
