MARY: A Nun's dirty sin 1

I am Sister Mary, thirty-five years old, and until recently I had never known the touch of another person, let alone a man. I had taken my vows as a virgin and believed I would remain one forever.

But something had been stirring inside me for months.

The dreams started innocently enough—soft kisses, hands on my breasts—but they quickly grew wicked. I began waking in the middle of the night soaked in sweat, my habit clinging to my skin, and between my legs… I was shamefully wet.

My virgin pussy would throb and ache, slick with juices I didn’t understand. I came so close to something powerful in those dreams, yet it always slipped away before I could grasp it.

Every night the visions grew more sinful. I dreamed of other nuns on their knees between my thighs, licking me. I dreamed of a thick, hard cock pushing into me, stretching me open. I fought it. I prayed. I begged God for strength. But the hunger only grew.

One quiet evening I lay in bed unable to sleep. My eyes kept drifting to the tall candle on my dresser. It wasn’t very thick, but it was long and smooth.

Almost in a trance, I rose, took it from its holder, and carried it back to my bed with trembling hands.

I pulled my nightdress up to my waist, spread my legs, and pressed the cool wax against my aching slit. A violent shiver ran through me when it brushed my swollen clit.

I was already dripping. I rubbed it up and down, coating it with my wetness, then brought it to my entrance.

It hurt at first. I was so tight. I spat on the candle, rubbed the saliva over the tip, and tried again. This time it slid in. I pushed until I felt the resistance of my hymen. I knew what it was. I knew what I was about to do.

I pulled back slightly, took a breath, and shoved hard.

“Ah!” I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the sharp sting tore through me. The candle sank deep into my virgin cunt. I lay there panting, feeling it stretch me, fill me. The pain quickly faded into something else—something hot and urgent.

I started moving it. Slowly at first, then faster. The wet sounds coming from between my legs embarrassed me, but I couldn’t stop. My hips began rocking. My head swam.

Then it hit me—like lightning exploding through my body. My first orgasm crashed over me so violently I thought I might faint. I fucked myself harder with the candle, legs shaking, waves of pleasure ripping through my core until I couldn’t take any more.

I yanked the candle out and lost control completely. Hot piss gushed from me, soaking the sheets as my body convulsed in ecstasy.

When it finally stopped, shame flooded in. I had sinned.

I had defiled myself. I cleaned the blood and my creamy juices off the candle, changed the sheets, and swore I would never do it again.

I lasted two weeks.

Then one night I woke from a dream of a large, powerful man brutally fucking me. My pussy was on fire. The candle wasn’t enough anymore. I crept down to the kitchen in my nightdress and found a thick, fat cucumber in the vegetable drawer. Back in my room, I smeared it generously with Vaseline and lay back.

It was so big. I whimpered as I worked the fat head into my hungry cunt, stretching myself wider than ever before. Inch by inch I took it until the whole thing was buried inside me. Then I fucked myself like a woman possessed—hard, deep, desperate—moaning into my pillow as another devastating orgasm tore through me.

I had just pulled the dripping cucumber out when I heard a knock.

“Yes?” I called, voice shaking.

“It’s Sister Beatrice. Are you alright?”

She came in before I could hide everything. She saw my flushed face, my messy bed, and the guilt in my eyes. Without a word, she stepped closer.

“I know what kind of dream you had, Mary,” she whispered. “I have them too.”

Before I could answer, she slipped into my bed beside me. She found the cucumber under my pillow and smiled.

“Oh my… this is a nice fat one.”

She pulled my nightdress up, parted my legs, and pressed her body against mine. She slid one leg under me, the other over, until our wet pussies were inches apart. Then she pushed the thick cucumber back into my dripping cunt. I moaned loudly as it filled me again.

Beatrice coated the other end with more Vaseline and slowly impaled herself on it until our cunts were pressed together, the vegetable buried deep inside both of us.

She grabbed my hands and started rocking. The cucumber began sliding in and out of us in perfect rhythm.

“Oh God… Beatrice!” I gasped. “It feels like… like I’m being fucked!”

We moved faster, grinding against each other, the fat cucumber stretching both our cunts. I was saying filthy things I had never said in my life. The pleasure built quickly. Within minutes we were both shaking.

I came first—hard—screaming into her shoulder as my pussy clenched and squirted around the cucumber. Beatrice followed right after, her cunt gushing all over me, our juices mixing together in a slippery mess.

We carefully pulled apart, the huge cucumber sliding out with a wet pop, coated in our cream. Beatrice wickedly wiped it across both our slits, then giggled.

“I’m putting this back in the vegetable bin… so the other sisters can eat our cunt juice tomorrow.”

I should have been horrified. Instead I laughed with her.

The next day at dinner, several nuns complimented how sweet and flavorful the cucumber slices tasted in the salad.

Beatrice and I shared a secret smile across the table.

We’ve been meeting every few nights since then. But lately… I’ve been looking at one of the young male students who helps with maintenance around the convent. He’s tall, strong, and I can’t stop wondering what his real cock would feel like stretching me open.

I know it’s dangerous. I know I could lose everything.

But the ache between my legs is getting harder and harder to ignore…

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