St. Dunstan's Nuns Ch. 01byNigel Debonnaire©
(This story picks up with characters from "The Vicar of St. Dunstan's" series: the Series Guide will help you keep some of the characters straight. Mother Mary Rufus (now called "La Rossa") and Sister Mary Francis Xavier have been living in Rome for two years after MMR became the international head of her order, and have adjusted well to living at the heart of the Catholic Church. Their lives are about to be changed as an old friend from England comes by for a visit.)
The sun was blazing through the cloud tufted blue sky. Mid-May was gentle in Rome, and I was taking the siesta period to sunbathe nude on the convent roof with Sister Juliana. She's the only one of the local nuns in residence at the Generalate who's close to my age and interested in the same things I am. Her home is Naples, and her olive skin grows deeper and richer with the sunshine, where the Irish half of my genes means I have to be more careful how long I'm out. It is delicious to feel the sun on my skin; I've enjoyed it in many places after traveling the world as a teenager, since my native England is rather stingy with warm sunny days.
Our bodies are different in build as well. Sister Juliana's body is very soft and slightly plump, with graceful curves that tantalize our groundskeeper Rocco Salvatore as be pretends to trim the hedges in the morning. My body is more athletic, lean and long, although I've been told my hips and breasts are appealing. I flipped over on my back to let the sun soak into every inch of my skin there, while Sister Juliana turned from her left to right side.
"Sister Franny, how often do you think the Elephant masturbates? I know you pray in the Chapel every night, and a vent from his apartment carries every sound there."
"I would guess once a day, Sister Juli. Sister Agatha says he must have been up to three times a day when he was younger."
"And how would Sister Agatha know?"
"She was his housekeeper when he was at Santa Croce in Firenza. Never caught him at it, but heard enough through the door of his suite, and of course she had to clean up after him."
Sister Juliana sat up quickly, whipping off her sunglasses, and making her heavy breasts bob. "How horrible! Did he soil his bedsheets?"
"No, he had several pairs of white socks he used. Would throw them into the hamper with his undergarments and assumed Sister wouldn't know about the nature of the stains."
"How did Sister Agatha know? She's such a holy, devout person."
"Who grew up with five brothers in the countryside. Take it from me, she knows what crusty old semen looks like."
Shuddering in the warmth, Sister Juliana put her sunglasses back on and laid back, her skin glistening. "From what I saw when we took care of the Elephant during his illness last winter, he's the one who came from a farm. Do all men have cocks his size?"
I shook my head carefully, trying not to dislodge my wimple. "No, the Elephant got his nickname as a boy from the size of his member. Sister Agatha says that's why he became a priest: no woman he's ever met was willing to be impaled by him."
"Oh, my God, protect me from him. He would destroy me," Sister Juliana said, crossing herself.
"Has he made a pass at you?"
"Two days ago, when I was cleaning the Sacristy after Mass. I was bending over to pick up the used purificators, and he placed his hands on either side of my backside. Almost hit him with the linens since I stood up and threw them over my shoulder in surprise, but when I turned around he was smiling at me like I've never seen before, with a glow in his eyes that scared me. He gave me that gruff chuckle that sounds like a dog woofing and stroked my cheek, then he just walked away."
Monsignore Carlo Maria Farinelli was a huge man in many ways. He was almost seven feet tall with dark hair and eyes in spite of his 75 years, with huge ears and nose, gigantic hands with fat fingers, tree trunk legs and a torso that had been muscular in his youth. His voice was a clone of Pavarotti's, but a bad case of stage fright expelled him from the Conservatory and sent him to the Seminary. "Just be sure you don't let him trap you anywhere, Sister Juli. He caught me one night after vespers standing in front of the vestment closet. The Elephant was stalking me."
"Oh my, Sister Franny. What did he do to you?"
"Well, I did grab one of the Elephant's ears and squeezed as hard as I could. He's been respectful ever since."
"Squeezed his ear? How did you reach that high?"
"I'm not being literal. I grabbed one of his nuts and twisted."
She gave me an unbelieving look, so I pantomimed the male genitalia and demonstrated. Her laughter made her writhe on her couch so much she knocked her wimple off despite the pins holding it in place. Her long black hair was up in a bun. "That would come in handy when we go out to the clubs, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, but only as a last resort." Mother Mary Rufus, the head of our order and supervisor of the house, hadn't found out about our sneaking out to hang out at the sidewalk bars or go dancing at one of the clubs, yet. It's a good way to blow off the steam of convent life, and we enjoy teasing the boys a little, but we stay true to out vows and we are still virgins. Well, literally virgins. . .
My cell phone buzzed at my side and I picked it up: "Pronto."
"Hello, luv. How's life in the Eternal City?"
I shifted onto my side and looked away from my companion. "Just fine, Aunt Mavis. How's Scotland?" I said, switching to English after talking with Sister Juliana in Italian.
"Oh, it's doing just fine, but it's weeping a bit outside since I'm on my way out."
"Yes, luv. I'm leaving Scotland, too bloody cold up here. The babbies are grown enough I can leave them for a bit."
Aunt Mavis isn't literally my aunt, she's from the same parish my mother's family belonged to: St. Dunstan's. She's a huge lady, with dark hair and bundles of energy for a woman in her 60's. When Red and I moved to Rome, she left her husband and went to Scotland to be near one of her daughters. She would be called a wench in another time, good fun and full of wisdom in her own way. "So when are you leaving Scotland?" I asked.
"Oh, they've just called my flight, should be boarding after I ring off with you. Maybe they'll give me a full body search if I'm lucky."
"You've got a different way of calling things lucky. Are you on your way back to England?"
"No, luv, I'm coming to Rome."
"Yes, luv. Always wanted to see you and your mother Barbara ever since you moved there."
I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs. "Why here?"
"I need some warmth Helen, I want to see new places, and I want to talk with you, dearie, now that you've got your hearing back. How long has it been now?"
"Six months, Aunt Mavis."
"Isn't it a miracle what medicine can do these days? Oh, I bet you're thankin' God every day now you can finally hear."
"Yes, Aunt Mavis, it's a miracle, I can hardly believe it myself. What flight are you on?"
"Oh, I've lost my ticket, no, Flight 5731. Gotta run. Be a good gel and meet me at the airport. Bye."
The line went dead before I could say more. Sister Juliana sat up and gave me a look of deep concern. "Who was that?"
"An old friend of La Rossa's and mine. She's coming for a visit."
"Oh, that nice redhaired English woman who smokes cigars? How soon?"
"Later today. No, it's not Mary Sterns, it's Mavis Hazelton. She's getting on the plane now."
"Aunt Mavis has always been impulsive. That's what my grandmother always said. She was one of the original Quilting Ladies. . .oh, I haven't told you that story yet. Time to scramble, I've got to find out when she's getting here and sign out a car to pick her up."
"Do you need any help?"
"Ah, we'll need to get the guest suite ready. Not the one by the Elephant, the one by La Rossa's room."
"Will Mother Mary Rufus approve?"
"I know she will, La Rossa always plays it by the book. We'd better get dressed." I jumped up and looked out over the top of roof. Nothing was stirring in the street beyond the walls, and the neighbors' shades were drawn. I took a look at my skin: it was developing a nice honey hue, but I knew it was time to go in. My puffy nipples glistened with the sunblock I'd put on them, and my little red bush was moist from sweat, but otherwise my skinny little 25 year old body was the same as usual.
Sister Juliana was putting on her convent underwear, and pulling on her hose, her movements unusually crisp and purposeful compared to her normal laid back pace. I dressed myself as quickly as I could and we raced to the stairwell that lead to the main part of the Convent.
As I gave La Rossa's door a gentle rap, I heard a splash from within. Bursting through, I made my way to the bathroom where I found my mother, Mother Mary Rufus of the Sisters of St. George, called Red or La Rossa by the Sisters, lounging in a bubble bath. She is still a fantastic looking woman in her mid 40's, with beautiful blonde hair, perfect teardrop breasts and alabaster skin. Giving me a nasty look, she washed some suds from her upper arm and sighed. "All right, Squirt, what's the panic?"
"Aunt Mavis is coming to town."
She gave me a double take, and sat up. "So?"
"She's just now getting on the plane."
Throwing her sponge down with a splash, she seethed. "That's just like her, barging in unannounced. What flight's she on?"
Damn, I thought. I knew there was something I need to ask Mavis before she rung off. "I'll look that up."
"You'd better, Squirt. It'll take her three or four hours to get here, probably longer if she's coming from Scotland. Are you getting the guest suite ready?"
"Juli's working on that."
She gave me a fierce look and gripped the sides of the tub hard. "Oh, you two were sunbathing naked on the roof again."
I put my hands on my hips. "So?"
"I hate it when you give me that attitude you inherited from me. You're just lucky none of the neighbors have complained or Rocco the handyman hasn't been posting pictures of you on the Internet."
"We make sure Rocco's gone, and our roof is the highest point in the area anyway, with walls high enough to hide behind."
"All right, convent life has changed since I was a novice. So I guess you need a car to pick her up?"
I nodded. "All right, sign out the van; Mavis will be coming with a truckload of luggage, and she doesn't fit in cars easily. I'll meet you in a couple of hours to ride out to daVinci with you. Mavis will have a fit if I'm not there to greet her. She'll have to entertain herself tomorrow; I've got to be at the Vatican all day. Get the Elephant to get us tickets to the Papal Audience this Wednesday."
"Can't we go through normal channels?"
"Not on this short notice. Yes, I know he'll want something for it, and you can just give it to him yourself this time. Monsignore Elephant's a pain, I know, but he can come in handy at times like this. At least you can give his right hand a day off; it'll make up for you twisting his balls last month. Yes, I heard about that from multiple sources. Wipe that cheeky grin off your face and get cracking. Since I'm in charge of this circus, I'm going to enjoy what's left of my bath while I can. Scoot!"
When I got back to my monastic cell, the clock said 1530, so I knew I had some time. Checking the flights from the Scottish airports to Rome, I soon discovered what airline Aunt Mavis was on and when it was expected. Knowing her appetite, I texted Sister Agatha to say 2/3 guests were coming for dinner, and a text to Sister Juliana confirmed the guest suite would be ready.
I took a deep breath and remembered the last task I was assigned. The Elephant was probably still taking his afternoon nap, but it would be better to pay his price at right away than wait until evening. "Always get the dirty work done first," I said to myself in English, and walked resolutely out the door.
The convent at our Generalate holds 15 people: there are five suites on the top floor for the Superior and several guests, 14 small rooms and a large common room on the first floor for me and my Sisters, and the Library, Archives and several sitting rooms occupy the ground floor. A small passageway connects with the rest of the building: the Ground floor has the Kitchen and Laundry, as well as the hall we use for large gatherings and public receptions, and the Chapel is directly above it, with the Chaplain's apartment connected by a door next to the Sacristy.
I paused in the Chapel to pray, asking the Biblical Matriarch Tamar to give me strength for the task ahead. When I got up, I sneaked the Oil of the Sick from the Ambry, thinking my task had medicinal value as well as spiritual comfort, and so it would be all right to use it.
Knocking at his apartment as discreetly as I could, I called: "Monsignore? Monsignore Farinelli?"
"Huh?" came the groggy reply.
"It's Sister Mary Francis Xavier."
"Huh? Who are you? What do you want?"
"I need a favor. I need you to get tickets to the Pope for me."
"Tickets? Tickets? What am I, a magician? Am I suppose to produce tickets to the Papal Audience out of thin air? I swear, Job had an easier job than I do here, Solomon has less to do for 900 women he was sleeping with." There was a groan from the floorboards as he stood up. "Don't understand. Why isn't La Rossa here herself?"
"She sent me to ask."
I heard ponderous movement and quivered a bit, but recovered and stood firm. "You know there will be a price?" came the heavy voice close to the door.
"You're a tiny, tiny girl. The Elephant will surely kill you."
"La Rossa told me what the price is. I have nothing to worry about and we both know it."
"You could stretch yourself. . ."
"I will pay the same price Mother La Rossa pays. If you do not accept, she will find out."
There was a sigh from behind the door, which creaked open. The cluttered sitting room reeked of cigars and expensive grappa in spite of Sister Agatha's weekly attentions, and the cleric stood just inside the door wearing a red robe. "Would you like some Grappa before we begin? I just got a shipment from an old friend from Torino yesterday. . ."
"It's too early in the day, and my mother told me to be careful of strange men trying to ply me with liquor."
"Your mother is undoubtedly a wise woman, whoever she is. Very well, I will sit on the couch, but your attitude is hardly, hardly, hardly helpful in paying the price."
"I will take my habit off and let you look at me. Will that be enough?"
"Hmm, that's a start. . ."
"But no touching. I will touch you and that will be it. You know I can deal with you if you go too far."
"Child, you are working against yourself by bringing these memories to my mind. Do you want the tickets for the Papal Audience that my dear old friend Monsignore Guido Scarpelli can provide at a moment's notice?"
"Yes, I do and yes, I know it's a burden. All right, all right. Lay down and we'll begin."
The huge man lowered his bulk onto an overstuffed couch, lifting his leg to the opposite armrest, and keeping the other foot on the floor. His robe fell open revealing his hairy rolls of fat within. I shuddered, took a deep breath, and began to strip for him, leaving my wimple on. When my dress came off, he gasped: "Such lovely little berries you have. So perfectly shaped, they stick right out. And the points are so hard. I wonder what jewel lurks below?"
My panties came off, and a broad smile creased his face. He reached out, but I slapped his hands away to kneel before the couch and search for the Elephant. It was starting to raise its trunk, questing, seeking. Already it was too thick for me to wrap my hand around, and a hint of moisture rested at the end of the glans. Using my fingernails in a twisting motion, I encouraged the monster and it responded quickly, stiffening and growing redder. I reached under to tickle the Elephant's ears, playfully giving them a squeeze. The old man grimaced for a moment, but his face relaxed as I stirred his manhood.
It was time for lubrication, and making sure his eyes were closed, I poured some of the sacred oil onto his skin, rubbing it up and down to make it incredibly slick. "Oh, Maddelena, so good, so good. Better than La Rossa." Smiling, I nibbled at his glans; it was far too big to take into my mouth, but I worked my way around it moisten it. The fluid that emerged was sweetish, so I spent a little more time teasing his corona than I planned.
He started to grunt and wrinkle his brow, so I began to stroke him faster to bring him off as soon as I could. I started murmuring: "Come on, Pappa. Give it to me."
"Yes, yes, yes, Pappa's got a lot to give you. Faster, harder, Maddelena. Oh, you are such a blessing. Yes, yes, yes." Flecks of clear liquid started jumping off, with larger and larger dribbles mixed in. I rubbed the fresh lubricant all around and down, patting his balls, and returning to a two handed stroke. "Maddelena, it's almost here. Almost here. Almost here."
With a huge cry, a fountain erupted under my grasp. I closed my eyes and my face, neck, chest and arms were flooded with the old man's seed. Pulse after pulse shot forth from my coaxing, and I kept at it until I milked him dry, squeezing his nuts to finish the job as best I could.
He took several deep gulps of air and let out a long sigh. I started to get up, but he said: "Stay with me a moment, Maddelena. Let me see you as you are." His dark eyes fluttered open wide and a broad smile creased his face as he regarded me. "Ah yes, covered with love, Maddelena, covered with my love. I will remember this for a long time."
"Consider them in your hand now. I will do more for you, if. . ."
I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Let's keep this moment special by making it unique."
He gave me a strange look and touched a spot of oil on my skin. "Where did you get this?" I showed him the container. "Oh, Maddelena, what a little blasphemer you are! How could you think of using this Holy Oil consecrated to heal the Sick for this purpose?"
"You're a priest and I'm a nun. It seemed to make sense, since this was medicinal."
He started at me for a moment in horror, then shrugged and got up. "Let me give you a towel, Maddelena," before striding from the room and giving me a huge towel that could have wrapped twice around me. Watching as I cleaned myself up and dressed, he gallantly kissed my hand before gesturing me to leave.
I stopped by the Common Room to grab a couple of Morelli beers on my way back to my room. It made sense for the moment: I needed something after the task I just completed and to get ready to drive through Roman traffic to Leonardo Da Vinci Airport. A dash through the shower and a clean, fresh habit made me feel presentable, and I had a few moments to check my Facebook account before leaving.
Mother Mary Rufus was quiet as we darted through the cars on the freeway south of town. I didn't know if she was happy to see Aunt Mavis again, or dreading it. Halfway there, she gave me a little inquisitive sniff, but settled back when she didn't find what she was expecting. I gave her a sidelong glance, but she was lost in thought.
"Hurray, hurray, hurray, there's my gels. Ooooh, it's ssoo good to see you both." Mavis bounded out of Customs and ran to fling herself at La Rossa, crushing her in an enveloping embrace. "My Barbie, all dignified and queenly, Mother Superior of the world. Let me look at you." Mavis pushed her away to look her up and down before clutching her close again. "You're doing splendidly, gel, Rome agrees with you. And is this our little Helen Joy?"
"Hullo, Aunt Mavis."
She gathered me in to test the strength of my ribs and my ability to stay conscious without breathing. "All growed up, like a perfect little picture, and you can hear me at last, right?"