LOGINI had been waiting for the perfect moment, and it finally came.One evening after prayers, Mother Superior asked me to deliver some books and fresh towels to the visiting priests’ quarters behind the chapel. Father Damiano was staying there for a few days to prepare the youth retreat. My heart raced when she gave me the task. This was my chance.I changed into a simple white dress that was a little tighter than the usual novice clothes. It hugged my breasts and showed the shape of my round ass. No bra underneath. I walked quietly through the garden as the sun was setting. The air was warm. My pussy was already wet just thinking about being alone with him.I knocked softly on his door.“Come in,” his deep voice answered.Father Damiano was sitting at a small desk reading the Bible when I entered. He looked up and his eyes widened a little when he saw me. “Celine? What are you doing here?”“Mother Superior sent me with these, Father,” I said sweetly, holding up the books and towels. I c
Life at the convent was different. I no longer lived in the big villa with Mama and Papa. Two weeks ago they moved me here full time to begin my serious training as a novice. My small room had a single bed, a wooden cross on the white wall, and a tiny window that looked over the garden. I shared the hallway with Sister Mary and two other young novices. Every day started at 5:30 with morning prayers, then chores, Bible study, and more prayers before bed. The nuns said this would purify my soul before I took my vows next year.But my soul was not pure at all.I missed the freedom of going to Signora Francesca’s house after school. I missed her phone and the way those videos made my body burn. Here, everything was quiet and strict. Touching myself felt even more dangerous. Yet I could not stop.Every night after lights out, the ache between my legs grew worse. I would lie in bed thinking about Father Damiano Moretti. His handsome face. His strong body under the black cassock. The deep, c
I am nineteen now, and the day I feared is coming closer. My parents decided it was time for my convent training. Every weekend they drive me to the small convent on the hill outside town. There I learn how to pray for hours, how to wear the simple white novice habit, how to stay silent and obedient. Signora Elena smiles proudly every time we go. “You will be a beautiful bride of Christ, Celine,” she says. Papa just nods and tells me to remember my promise.We go to confession every single week. I kneel in the dark wooden booth and whisper to the old priest, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” But I never tell the full truth. I never say how I still touch myself almost every night. I never say how much I miss Signora Francesca’s phone and the dirty videos that make me so wet.I tried so hard to forget. After they started taking me to the convent more often, I told myself it was over. No more touching. No more thinking about thick cocks and moaning women. I prayed the rosary until my
I am nineteen now, just one year away from the day my parents want me to enter the convent. I promised them I would obey. I promised God I would become a nun. But every night, the same battle happens inside me.After that first time at fourteen, I told myself I would never watch those videos again. I prayed harder. I went to confession. I tried to forget the wet sounds, the naked bodies, the pleasure I felt. For a few weeks it worked. But the ache between my legs always came back. Stronger. Hotter.One warm afternoon last month, everything broke again.I came back from school and walked straight to Signora Francesca’s house like always. She was on the couch wearing a thin summer dress that hugged her full breasts and wide hips. Her phone was in her hand, and she was smiling at the screen the same way she did years ago. The moment I saw it, memories flooded my mind. My pussy instantly became wet. I pressed my thighs together, feeling my clit throb against my panties.I stood there for
My name is Celine Rossi, and I am nineteen years old now. But every time I close my eyes, I still remember the day I was eight and everything changed.I was sitting on the old wooden bench in the orphanage chapel when Sister Clara came to me with a big smile. “Celine, there is a couple here who wants to meet you. They want to take you home.” My heart started beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest. I had been in the orphanage since I was a baby. No one ever chose me. Until them.Signor Marco Rossi and Signora Elena Rossi looked like people from a dream. He was tall and serious, with kind eyes behind his glasses. She was soft and pretty, smelling like roses and church incense. When they told me they wanted to adopt me, I cried happy tears. That same night, after we prayed together in their big car, they hugged me tight and said, “You are our daughter now, Celine. God has answered our prayers.”Their house was massive. A beautiful villa just outside the town in Tuscany,
Chapter 6A few days later, the summer heat had only grown more intense, mirroring the fire building between Jake and Lila. Their parents were none the wiser—Claire and Dad spent long days at work or on evening dates, leaving the house empty for hours at a time. Jake and Lila took full advantage.Jake woke up to the feeling of soft lips wrapped around his cock. He groaned, opening his eyes to see Lila between his legs, her golden hair spilling over his thighs as she sucked him slowly and lovingly. She was completely naked, her small perky tits pressed against his legs, those big blue eyes looking up at him with pure devotion.“Morning, Daddy,” she whispered around his shaft before taking him deeper into her warm mouth. She had become addicted—waking him up like this almost every day now.“Fuck, baby… you’re getting too good at that,” Jake moaned, threading his fingers through her hair. He guided her gently, pushing a little further until she gagged softly, tears pricking the corners o
The librarian didn’t smirk this time; she just nodded like she’d been expecting me. “Welcome home,” she murmured as I passed. I didn’t flip her off. I didn’t speak. Just took the mask, descended, let the cool tiled air wrap around me again.The platform was alive—same chandeliers, same echoes, but
I couldn’t take it anymore. The masked man at the exit still blocked my path, arms crossed, patient as stone. My voice came out small, shaking. “Please… just let me out. I’m not—I can’t—”He studied me for a beat, then stepped aside without a word. Relief flooded me. I yanked the mask off, shoved i
My name is Angela. I’m 28, single, and hopelessly addicted to the quiet escape of books. That’s why, three times a week, I slip into this little library tucked between a coffee shop and a dry cleaner on a side street in Lower Manhattan. It’s always half-empty — dusty shelves, soft lamplight, the fa
Marcus’s fingers moved with growing purpose, no longer hesitant. Two thick digits slid deep inside Celine’s soaked pussy while his thumb rubbed firm, perfect circles over her swollen clit. She gasped sharply, her back arching under the blanket as intense pleasure shot through her body.“Oh god… Mar







