Sister Felicity was sitting in her armchair, her face adorned by a look of deepening voyeuristic satisfaction. The only words I could hear within the ...lazed confines of my mind at that moment were “You disgusting little harlot.” The effects this time, however, were very different and very much more pleasurable. I gasped as Sister Theresa’s fingers found the flimsy covering of my white cotton panties and slid effortlessly under my crotch. My hips instinctively moved back as her hand completed. We kissed on the mouth, somewhat awkwardly, as he thrust his fingers in and out, it really took great strength for me to break the connection, my head said ‘yes’, my body was willing to go further. I peered through the spyhole again and his face, not a pretty sight to behold, looked so disappointed, the irony had not escaped me, John was the guy I always thought about whenever my masturbation night came along, and now, on a night like tonight, here he was outside my front door, if I opened it. More

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