I was thirty two, a big, happy, healthy guy, a full time carpenter with few worldly cares besides finding cold brews and warm women, a man in his prime. I weighed, in those days, 220 lbs and it was all muscle, including major portions of my brain. I worked hard, lived well and enjoyed life immensely, drank deeply and cut a swathe through the female population of our little burg.
It happened that I was called upon, that particularly hot summer, to undertake some repairs at a convent. The place was old, very, and had some major issues, in fact, far too many to actually fix in one week, but my boss, a devout man, had volunteered me to do what I could. I was scheduled to meet the mother superior there on a Monday.
I remember that the temperatures soared that week, but the convent was on the lake and I was hoping I'd be able to make time to take a dip in a little sheltered cove there when I could. Otherwise, it promised to be a long, boring week. The convent was so far out of town that I planned to camp out of the back of my truck right there at the lakeside.
The mother superior was gone when I arrived, as were most of the nuns. One young novitiate had been left behind to care for the few much older sisters who were bed ridden and needed intensive senior care.
Sister Arlene was a short but well built young woman. She appeared to be not much older than twenty-three or so, quiet and shy, and seemed somewhat confused about what I was supposed to do. I gotta say that it was awkward standing there, that first day, in my shorts and sleeveless t shirt, sweating in the mid morning heat while she was decked head to foot in a full body, black and white habit. Her only uncovered skin was her hands and face. And it was a lovely face. She didn't carry herself in a dumpy way but then she may have had a body like a bag of potatoes under all that black cloth. Still, I found myself watching how she moved, wondering what kind of woman was under there. She moved like a cat.
She was kind of clueless about why I was there, having missed that memo. So, after a few moments of thinking, Sister Arlene took me to a second floor closet to show me where a leak had discolored the ceiling. It was a large, walk in type enclosure, and I could see the leak had been there awhile. There happened to be an old ladder in the closet, no doubt so somebody could climb up to open an access door that led to the attic.
Sister Arlene climbed up this a few rungs and was pointing out some of the damage. I was beneath, holding the old ladder steady. Suddenly, the rung she was standing on bent back on itself and she lost her balance. She'd have really landed hard but I caught her, literally, in my arms as she fell. My goodness. In those few moments I copped a feel and I learned she was, in fact, a shapely and interesting woman, all that habit and those vows notwithstanding.
She became extremely embarrassed and in trying to scramble out of my arms, her habit dress hiked up and I was given a healthy view and brief feel of a fine pair of legs, strong, lithe, with silky thighs that seem to quiver at my touch.
"Oh my God," she stammered, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." Her chest heaved and I swear her breasts seemed to grow larger. She blushed crimson.
I didn't say a thing. I just looked at her, enjoying my glimpse of the woman beneath the habit. This flustered her even more and she blushed even deeper red, then turned and fled. I noticed, though, that she even looked good walking away, her robes swishing just so.
Well, I got a better ladder, climbed into the attic and began working. Sometime later I heard Sister Arlene's voice coming from below. She was offering me a drink. I asked her to climb up. I wanted to show her something I'd found.
It was another ladder, one that led up to a kind of crows nest, up to a secret nook built just below the old steeple tower. The little room had a small window that looked out over the countryside and was about big enough for maybe four people to recline up there. I guessed it was built as a sanctuary for slaves escaping north on the Underground Railroad.
Sister Arlene was enthralled by my discovery and eagerly climbed up into this hiding place with me and lay down on the wood floor next to me facing the small opening that looked out at the lake and hills and road, enjoying a cooling breeze that washed over us. As she continued to marvel at the view, I lay back and watched her, once again seeing the young woman, flush with girlish enthusiasm, her breasts squashed up against the floor boards, her ass a magnificent, swelling mound, inviting and very attractive. I was having impure thoughts.
