Sister Margaret

My parents passed away in a car accident when I was fourteen, and since no relatives were able to take me, I was placed in a Catholic orphanage in the late 1970s. The orphanage got most of what money my parents had, which wasn't a lot, with only a bit left over for my college education. Most people didn't want to adopt a teenager, and so although I had a few close calls, I wasn't adopted.

I grew up in Our Mother of Sorrows Convent and School outside of the city. The orphanage was actually phased out while I was there, and so by age eighteen I was their last orphan, occupying an almost empty wing of the charming old place, which was built in the Gothic style. I ate with the Sisters in their dining hall, and was still going to their Catholic high school.

My favorite teacher was Sister Margaret, who was the youngest of the nuns, although since she'd just turned thirty-five she wasn't all that young. She had dark hair, a pretty face, and a shapely figure--which was, of course, covered up by her habit.

A priest from a nearby monastery came to hear my confessions. I promised not to do the sin that I finally did for the first time at the age of 18, of touching myself for pleasure. But after resisting, sometimes for a week or two, I'd give in and confess again.

Sister Margaret taught history and literature, and I'd had her in one class each semester for the last three years of high school. We'd gotten to know each other pretty well, and she knew my sad story. Her story was also poignant, since she was also an orphan, having lost one parent as a young child to cancer, and another to a hit-and-run a few years later. She sometimes talked about how our orphan-bond gave us things in common. She enriched my life intellectually in so many ways, and also boosted my self-confidence. A few times after I turned 18 she'd said, when we were alone, that she thought I was handsome, and would be popular with the women in college--to which I blushed, and said I hoped so. I'd gotten into a good state university with a scholarship, in part because of Sister Margaret's recommendation letter, and would be starting in just a few months.

That senior year that I'd turned 18 I knew she could tell by how I gazed up at her from the front row of her class with admiration--and something more too--that I liked her a lot. Sometimes I stayed after class to talk with her, and we'd have good chats on all sorts of topics. When I was with her alone, I started getting erections around her. She was so lovely and empathetic, and so clearly liked me, that when I was around her I'd almost always get hard.

For weeks I hid it with books on my lap, or my book bag, but terrible sinner that I was, for the last few weeks of the school year I actually wanted her to notice that I was hard for her. Since I was mostly not masturbating, as the priest instructed me at confession, I would get erect around Sister Margaret quickly. What would they expect would happen? I knew it was visible when I stood up, because of the thin fabric of my school uniform slacks. My class with her was the last period of the day, and so I could stay after class as the school emptied out and talk with her.

I knew it was crazy and wrong to show her that I was hard for her, but I did it anyway. The first time I did it when I stayed after class--sometimes holding my book bag in front of me to hide it, and sometimes putting it down so that it was revealed--she seemed to be both shocked and pleased by what she thought she was seeing in my slacks. She blushed at first, but then recovered and kept glancing at it.

So I decided to do it again, but the second time not hiding it at all. I still had my book bag as we talked after class, just in case, but I just left it at my feet. She blushed again, and a few times she looked like she was about to say something about it, but ended up just smiling and seemingly encouraging me, as she glanced more obviously at my crotch, again mentioning that she thought I would be a success with the college girls. Each day when she first saw my hard-on for her through my slacks, she would blush and smile in a charming way, and then after a while look up at my face, clearly trying to concentrate on keeping eye contact.

When it was the last week of class I was even more bold one day. I didn't put on underwear, and so my hard cock was even more clearly outlined than unusual through my thin tan slacks. My cock head is somewhat large, and as I glanced down after the end of class, I could see that the outline of my mushroom-shaped head was clearly visible, at the top of the outline of my rounded six and a half inch cock.

"Sister Margaret," I said, after all the other students had left, as she was erasing the chalkboard in a charming back and forth motion, with her shapely ass toward me.

"Yes, Ben," she said, turning around and smiling.

As usual, she looked down at my crotch. But this time she didn't look away.

In fact, her eyes widened a little, and her nostrils flared, as she stared at the even more clearly outlined form of my erection in my slacks.

Smiling, I started talking, as she kept staring.

"Well, Sister Margaret, as you know, we're down to our last week of class. But I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an Independent Study with me over the summer in literature, maybe on all of your favorite novels that we haven't yet read in your other classes?"

Then I intentionally pulsed my cock once as I spoke, and her eyes widened a little more, as she kept looking at my bulge. She swallowed a bit loudly, and I could see she was breathing a bit more heavily than usual.

"Yes, Ben, I'll do an Independent Study with you," she said, and then she looked up at my face, "But since, as you just said, we're down to our last week in this class, and we're alone, I feel I finally need to say something to you. For the last few weeks when you've met with me alone after class, I've noticed that you often seem...aroused. What I mean is that you seem sexually aroused around me, Ben. Do you know that an outline of your...erect penis...is visible to me through your slacks?"

Now it was my turn to blush with shame, and my courage collapsed.

"I'm--I'm so sorry," I stammered.

Looking down I put my hands in front of my crotch. This was suddenly a disaster. I thought I'd seemingly misread that she'd been subtly encouraging me. I struggled to think of what to say, and I realized I had to tell the truth.

While still looking down with shame, I managed to get out, "Yes, Sister Margaret, I'm so sorry. It's...it's because I love you. Each week at Confession for the past few months, I've told the priest about my love for you, and even....my sinful thoughts about you. I've even confessed that when I talk with you after class that I get excited. Should I report myself to the principal, to Mother Superior, for punishment?"

Sister Margaret laughed nervously, and then said, "No, Ben, that's not necessary. Please don't do that! I'm confessing to a sin myself now, but actually part of me is flattered and, I'll confess, even though I really shouldn't, that I sometimes get...excited too, seeing how attracted to me you are. But I'm glad you're aware. I wouldn't want this to happen around other women--except for maybe when you're alone with your future wife, when you're in college or something."

"It only happens around you," I said, still looking down.

This was more or less true, because the other nuns were all quite a bit older.

"Really?" she said with a laugh, and then added, "Well, if it's just around me, and only when we're alone, then maybe it can be our secret. It's inappropriate, and it's a sin, but still, don't feel too bad. You obviously have strong feelings for me. You can even take your hands away, and show me again if you want. I've gotten kind of used to seeing you aroused around me. What kinds of sinful thoughts do you have about me anyway? I think it might be useful for you to talk about."

I slowly took my hands away, and then looked up at her smiling face, and shyly smiled back. My erection had softened over the previous couple of minutes, but as I realized she was seemingly encouraging me again, I could feel it start to grow again.

She smiled warmly at me and nodded, giving me encouragement, and then with pleasure I noticed that she was looking down at my crotch again, and continued to smile broadly as she observed my erection under my slacks growing again for her.

I then said, "Apologies, but, well, sometimes I imagine you, Sister Margaret...without your clothes on. I imagine you nude."

"Really?" she said, looking back up at my face--I'm three inches taller than she is--and she then added, "Anything specific about my body that you've sinfully imagined?"

I suddenly got worried, wondering if this was a trap, and said, "Do you really want to know? Am I going to be punished, or even expelled? Maybe I should go to confession with a priest instead?"

She looked shocked and hurt, and said, "No, Ben! Listen, I'm not going to punish you in any way. I just really want to know. If anything, I'm going to reward you for telling me."

And then she came up to me, and to my great surprise started caressing my chest, and then straightening my school tie.

Then she slowly brushed the fingers of her left hand against my hard cock, feeling it for just a couple of seconds through my slacks--and her touch there felt almost like a little electric shock.

"I really want to know," she whispered, looking in my eyes, "Just tell me."

Then she backed up just a little, because I think she could tell that her being so close to her was almost overwhelming to me.

After a few seconds I went on, saying, "Well, Sister Margaret, please forgive me, but in confession I've already said that I've imagined touching your breasts, kissing your nipples, and seeing between your legs."

She blushed, laughed, looked down again at my crotch, and then said, "You really are a sinner, aren't you? But we all are sinners before God. I thought you were thinking about such things, from the way you've looked at me for the past few months, and because of your obvious arousal in the past few weeks. Although it sounds prideful, I do think I've been blessed with beautiful breasts. Anyway, obviously everything we're saying must remain totally secret, and just between us. It can't even be revealed in Confession. You must swear to agree."

"Yes, Sister," I said, "I swear. I wish I could confess to you instead of the priest. I haven't revealed all of my sinful thoughts and acts, even to him."

She glanced at the classroom door, which had a square window of glass at the top of it, and said, "Well, maybe in a way you can, in an unofficial way--and I have a confession myself, for you. Let's go over here, so that no one can see us--unless they come in."

Against the side wall was a carpeted area that was her little library, with tall bookshelves. These wooden shelves made it so that until you were all the way inside the room, and toward the front, that you couldn't see into that little nook. There were two wooden chairs with cushions on them to make a little reading area, and she gestured for me to sit down. As she did, she took off the hat of her habit, which is called a cornette, and put it on the nearby side table. The cornettes for this order weren't fancy, like the kind used by the Flying Nun in that TV series from the 1960s, but just simple covering cloths. Anyway, suddenly her beautiful medium-length black hair was revealed, which I'd seen a few other times.

"I wanted to tell you," she said, as we sat down close to each other, and as she continued to look at my crotch, even though my legs were now together, "Something you've probably already guessed, which is that I'm a virgin. I've never even touched a man's penis. In fact, I've only ever seen a few in pictures in books--and they weren't erect."

I wasn't completely sure what she was hinting at, but hoping I wouldn't get in trouble, I slowly spread my legs somewhat, so that she might have a better view. I glanced down and saw that the outline of my hard cock was maybe even more visible in this position than standing.

She smiled as I did this, and went on, staring at the bulge in my slacks, "For years that didn't bother me, but now that I'm thirty-five--which is about half of a normal life --for some reason it bothers me a lot. And you parading your erection around in front of me after class, and knowing it's for me, has made me even more curious--even though I know it's a terrible sin for me as a nun, and also against anything I should be doing as a teacher."

I said slowly, still hardly believing what I was hearing, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yes, Ben" she said, looking into my eyes, looking nervous and trembling slightly, "You've been teasing me with it for the past few weeks. I think you've wanted to show me your erection--and not just through your slacks. And now I finally want to see it, and I even want to touch it. But please put it away again immediately if someone opens the door. That almost never happens at this time of day, but just in case, be ready. Now quick--show it to me. We might not have much time."

"Yes, Sister Margaret," I said, and then got up, and started unbuckling my belt.

"Closer," she whispered, beckoning me toward her with one of her elegant index fingers.

As she remained sitting, I moved very close to her and, trembling a little, first unbuttoned, and then slowly and carefully (since I had no underwear on) unzipped my slacks, and lowered them--and my erection suddenly popped out and was revealed to Sister Margaret--just about a foot from her face as she sat there.

As I mentioned, my cock is about six and half inches long when I'm hard, and so, as I learned later, about an inch above average. It stands up at about a forty-five degree angle. I'm circumcised, and my cock head is somewhat large and reddish. My shaft has some veins, and is somewhat thick. Since I'd been hard for a while, the tip of my cock head was already slightly moist.

"Oh my Lord!" Sister Margaret whispered as she stared at it, clearly shocked.

She started trembling a bit more, and then she went on, "Your manhood is even larger than I thought it would be. Sweet Jesus. I didn't realize it would be that large at the top, almost like a reddish mushroom. Have you been this hard for me every time we've been alone for the past few weeks?"

"Yes," I said, "I've gotten hard for you every time I'm in your class you for the past few months."

She sighed while staring at it, and then said slowly, "Bless you for that, Ben, even though it's a sin. You've made me feel more desired than I've ever felt in my life."

She then reached out with her slightly trembling right hand and gently held my shaft, and exclaimed, "Oh! It's so warm!"

"Yes, Sister," I answered, starting to breathe more heavily, and trembling myself slightly, and then I boldly added, "I'm glad you can see--and feel--how much I love you."

"I think it's more lust than love, Ben," she said as she gently felt my shaft, adding, "What do you think about when you touch yourself? You do touch yourself, don't you, even though we know it's against Church teachings?"

Her stroking and her words caused my cock to suddenly pulse in her hands, as it jerked up and down in my sexual frustration.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, taking her hand off it, and adding, "It's almost like a wild snake."

"It just moves...because of how much I love it when you touch me. I try not to touch myself for pleasure, as the priest instructs me at confession. And sometimes I resist for weeks. But then I have dreams about you at night, and my...my sperm...gets on my pajamas and sheets. But yes, when I touch myself I almost always think about you."

She then put her hand back on my cock, gently caressed it, and to my surprise said, "Christ was a man. He was God made flesh. Jesus was a circumcised Jewish man. When his penis got hard, and it surely did many times, it must have looked and felt almost exactly like yours right now. Your father was Catholic, but your mother was Jewish, and so in a sense you're also Jewish, even though you're also a practicing Catholic."

"I guess so," I said, not quite sure what she was trying to say.

She went on, saying, "A few people wonder if Mary Magdalene comforted Jesus sexually. I know it's not what the Church believes, but I believe that she comforted Jesus with--well, with her mouth. I mean, it must be uncomfortable for a man to be so hard with desire."

She looked up at me, and I nodded, because it was uncomfortable at this point.

She smiled and went on, "And so putting his manhood in her mouth, and suckling on it, would have been an act of mercy. From my point of view, it would have been act of charity, a good work. Don't you agree? Is this one of the sins that you've thought about with me, Ben? Have you wanted to put your hard-on...into my mouth?"

At the thought of it my cock started pulsing again, and I said, "Yes, Sister Margaret, I've thought about that. Please have mercy on me."

"You have suffered a lot," she said, smiling, and keeping her hand on my twitching member, "Losing your parents, and then being alone here. This would be a sin, of course, but it would also be an act of mercy, an act of kindness. And I confess I've thought of it many times in the past few weeks, about putting your hard manhood into my mouth, and nursing on it."

"Oh yes, please, Sister Margaret, please!" I begged.

She smiled at my desperation, and said, "Yes, Ben, I'll suckle on your erection, and relieve you of your suffering--just as I think Mary Magdalene did for Jesus."

She then got on her knees before me, took hold of my cock again, and as strange as it sounds, she crossed herself--before slowly lowering her wet mouth onto my member.

With almost half of my cock in her mouth, Sister Margaret closed her lips around it, and started suckling on it, almost like a baby would suckle on a pacifier.

"Ahh!" I gasped with pleasure, as she kept suckling on my dick, while slowly massaging the lower part of my shaft with one of her hands.

To encourage her, I said, "That feels so good, Sister Margaret. Thank you. Ahh!"

But after just a minute or so she withdrew my cock from her mouth, and said, to my further surprise, "I feel like Jesus would probably have thrust himself, back and forth, into Mary Magdalene's mouth, rather like a man thrusts his erection into a woman's vagina. You can do that with me, if you want. You can hold and caress and my head, and make love to my mouth with your manhood."

"Yes, Sister Margaret," I said, even though I had no idea about Jesus, and kind of doubted it.

But then I added, "But you've excited me so much already, and I love you so much, that I'm likely to--"

She smiled, "Yes, I know. You're going to spill your seed in my mouth, just as I think Jesus did with Mary Magdalene. I'm sure she swallowed his seed, as I'm going to try to do for you. But when you think you're going to orgasm, try to warn me, so that I can try to prepare myself."

"Yes, Sister Margaret," I said, and started caressing her pretty hair, which was soft.

She crossed herself again, and then opened her mouth wide, sticking out her pretty pink tongue to show that she was ready to receive my hard dick.

I didn't hesitate, but in my desperation slid my cock quickly into her waiting mouth, while holding her head.

I groaned softly with pleasure, as I started thrusting slowly into her mouth, over and over, sliding my cock deeper, and then more shallowly, as she sucked and nursed, and also still massaged my wet cock with one of her hands.

She choked slightly once, as I went even deeper.

Worried, I stopped, withdrew my cock, and said, "Should I stop?"

She panted, with a bit of drool coming out of her mouth. Her eyes a bit wild--at the same time aroused and worried.