Penguins Preference a Toby Wakefield story Chapter 8
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Two and a half weeks after the Diocese Day baseball game the school year ended, and I was out for the summer. Resuming my regular hours at St. Bart’s there was a lot of garden repair and replacement that should have taken a couple of weeks. But all my work that summer there was being constantly interrupted. Apart from Sister Agnes, the rest of the sisters seemed to have found a new fascination with my body that they wanted to exploit.
Mother Superior never mentioned my day alone with Sister Mary Cecile. Only a day went by though when she found a reason for me to do some work in the storage room in the basement. I was only there a few minutes before she came to check on me. Soon Cassie was pleasuring me with one of her amazing blowjobs. It ended with her bending over a chair and taking me from behind to a slapping, exhilarating but voice-stifled orgasm. As we straightened our clothes she said, “You certainly lasted longer this time than you did when you came to paint my room that day Toby. You’re not cheating on me, are you?” While the expression on her face was stern, she gave me a wry smile and winked while waggling her finger and mouthing “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
As she was leaving the storage room she turned and said, “But, be careful Toby.” I thought that was all she would have to say but she lingered for another moment, and added, “Young man, you’re certainly putting a new spring in the steps of some appreciative sisters here.” Giving me an appreciative smile, she went on, “I absolutely loved how effectively you drove that hard thing inside me Tobe.” Her face clouded. “But we must all be careful Toby, not everybody here is your friend, or mine.” I thought she was talking about Sister Agnes but before the summer was out, I found there was someone entirely new to concern myself about.
Sister Mary Cecile and I were finding ways to get together more frequently which made our sex more comfortable and satisfying. Though I was still taking care of my “responsibilities” with the other sisters there seemed to be an undercurrent in the convent that seemed a little strained to me. During one of my private sessions with Sister Natalie in the storage room I mentioned to her that I thought the sisters were closing Mary Cecile out. She replied, “Mary Cecile is much younger than the other sisters Toby.” I hadn’t given that much thought. But before the Diocese game they had been nothing but civil to the young nun. The Mother Superior went on, “That kind of age difference Toby often creates a bit of tension amongst women of the cloth. But that might change if you were to start paying more detailed attention to Sisters Mary Celeste and Mary Kathleen when you are with them in the preschool ... and perhaps you should try doing it a little more frequently. And (holding her finger and thumb up almost pinching them together) maybe you should scale back your activities with Mary Cecile just a touch.” I got the point.
So, in doing exactly what she suggested I was amazed at how much sex I was having at the convent. When friends of mine bragged that they were screwing some girl or, more likely, wished that they could screw any girl, I just put my tongue in my cheek and said nothing to them. While I usually did it with Cassie at least once a week I functioned as Sisters Kathleen’s and Mary Celeste’s whore a couple times a week as well. Cissy was a different matter: Except when she wasn’t having her period, we began doing it every other day. And our feelings for each other became so much more intense; each time we were together we told each other “I love you.”
When the summer started, I usually found myself lying on the moss with Kathy Warren in the Glade. That ended though when school started. Her cousin had found out about Kathie’s weakness for sex and told his friends about it. She became one of those famous promiscuous girls the boys in adjoining communities always talk about. Like bees they flocked to her petals. The summer before her senior year in high school she would get pregnant and quickly wed the college sophomore she identified as the father of the child. But I was having more sexual activity than most males could handle. Had I not been a fifteen-year-old youth with raging hormones I would never have been able to manage it. I rarely masturbated anymore; the reservoir of my hormones could only be taxed to a certain level.
From the beginning of our frivolities Mary Cecile had taken on her former identity of Cissy in a much more natural way than Sister Natalie reverted to Cassie when we had sex. With Cissy it was just more playful. She was younger and far prettier than the others at St. Bart’s. As we got more comfortable, I wondered if belonging to the order for the rest of her life was really in her long-term plans. Had I been more astute I would have seen that she was maneuvering for a practical way out. I had no idea at the time that, even though she was enjoying my sexual performance and praising the value of my confidence, she was using me for her own purposes that would be clear before the year was out.
Had I not been sexually involved with the sisters I would still have valued my job, it paid me better than mowing lawns and delivering newspapers and fit into my school schedule better. It even allowed me to be on the track team. At the same time, I was the luckiest fifteen-year-old male in the at least my surroundings. I was having sex with four adult women while most of my peers were still jacking off and fantasizing. When Sister Natalie said that I needed to pay more attention to the other nuns I said, “Does that mean spending time with Sister Agnes as well?”
“Sister Agnes has problems of her own,” she said. “She and I have a good but delicate relationship. I count on her to keep me posted on what’s going on in the convent and the preschool. I’ll tell you this much though, and if it goes any further than this room young man, I’ll cut your little testicles off.” She was smirking but I knew she was deadly serious. “You’re very important to me too Toby and need to know where the bones are buried here.” I nodded. I knew my importance and I didn’t want the greatest caper a kid could possibly to end because I was foolish. “Sister Agnes is cold to you the same way she is with all men. If you were a female, my boy, she would want you to spend your time with her the way you do with me.” With a stern look she went on, “Do you understand what I am saying Toby?” Before St. Bart’s I had never considered sex between two women in my life. Suddenly I was shocked to learn that it went on. I just couldn’t comprehend that it happened with lots of women.” When I nodded, she said, “Good boy,” patting my cheek.
This whole St. Bart’s situation was like a continuous dream: the sex I was enjoying with Sister Mary Cecile had blossomed to the point where I was able to make her climax multiple times, which made me feel special. I wished that I could have sex with only her but the only way I could have Cissy was to service the other sisters. The surprising thing was that all the sisters began catering to me like I was a prince. They were enjoying the fruits from my tree of knowledge and understood that the orgasms they were having were because of my being so involved with Mary Cecile. So, they were silent cheerleaders for my affair with her; nobody wanted to upset the applecart that carried such delicious delicacies to them.
Until Diocese Game Day Sister Natalie was sneaking down to the storage room a couple times a month to give me pleasure and receive it from me. I would sneak into the preschool and use the cot in the breakroom to have sex with the two older sisters about as often. After that day the breakroom was almost like my office. After 4:30 in the afternoon when the school staff went home, I was in there each day before 5:00 having sex with them. In the case of Mary Celeste and Kathleen it was often one after the other—it was obvious they got a thrill from that.
It was a testament to Mother Superior’s human resources skills how well she schooled this young teenager to maintain a sense of humility rather than arrogance in playing my unique role. My time was so dedicated to the four nuns that they even began doing some of the work that I had been hired for. They wanted me readily available. An older person would have picked it up, but I was too young, too naïve and steeped in this sexual paradise to realize that I had truly become the Parish whore.
The reader must wonder why, with all the unprotected sex that was going on at St. Bart’s, none of the nuns had gotten pregnant. Simply, Sister Natalie knew the ropes well. Since artificial birth control was a cardinal sin, she read as much as she could find on the Rhythm Method which required each of the sisters to be completely in touch with their bodies. Each nun had attuned themselves to know when they were ovulating. She stressed during that period that vaginal sex was strictly taboo. At the same time, she insisted that since I was the vessel of their pleasures, the sisters were duty bound to pleasure me with oral sex if I wanted it. What male, particularly a teenage boy would have turned something like that down? They seemed to love the oral gratification of having a male’s organ in their mouth as well. And they loved the fact that I was getting pleasure from their ministrations. It was all so wicked and exciting. They knew that I would eagerly reciprocate with the kind of cunnilingus I had become so good at. The interesting thing was that, where before I had been turned off by sisters Mary Celeste and Kathleen’s appearance, my familiarity with them made my sex with them beloved. Something else I didn’t understand was the fact that when a group of women live in proximity over time their menstrual cycles become synchronized.
As my fifteenth year progressed, I became subject to pressures I would never have believed. I came to the job with the simple expectation of mowing the lawn and doing some handyman work. It had been just an upgrade in my young working days which paid me three times what I made mowing lawns and delivering papers. While the Catholic Church’s religious doctrine and rituals were strange to me and the existence of a group of nuns who lived in a convent was a mystery, I quickly understood the personal needs of these women. I don’t want to give the impression that this kind of activity goes on in every church, but I’ve read too much in the news that sexual improprieties have existed in the church for ages. The flood of sexual predation that has surfaced in relation to priests and young boys and the stories of nuns being raped by priests lend credibility to my story. Though mine, I freely admit, is quite unusual.
Looking up at the clock I saw that I had little more than one minute to go. I had learned early at St. Bart’s that when I lingered and was late, I got a harsh scolding from Mother Superior who was obsessive about time. Walking slowly back to the wing with the cells I went to the last one and knocked on the closed door. “Come in Toby,” wafted through the door. Opening the door, I was shy and tentative. The room was tiny and dimly lit. Blinking to clear my eyes I opened them wider. Mother...
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Toby and I had been friends for as long as I can remember. My Mom has a photo of us, sat in a ball pit in the local nursery, grinning like morons. Are teeth are gaped and there are stains on our faces and clothes, but do you know what? We're happy, and really don't care. But unfortunately you can't stay like that forever... We stayed best friends, right up through all our years at Primary school. We were friends, and no one got between us, not even the bullies that took the piss out of my...
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I picked her up and put her on the table. Her robe came open and I could see her tits. I reached up and squeezed them and began to rub her nipples. "No! No! Please Toby, you can't do this. Steve is your friend and my husband. Please don't do this." Her mouth was saying no, but her body was saying yes. I saw the wetness forming on her white panties. I stood between her spread legs and began rubbing her pussy with two fingers. This incident took place over a year ago. I'll tell you a...
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“I happen to be in some trouble, silly thing really. In my business you see, certain acquaintances are made and…” began Mr. Newcomb. “What? In the hotel business?” I interrupted. “Well, yes and no. Erm… Ira was it? You see I happen to be a bit low on money as it is right now. I may have borrowed some money some years ago,” he continued. “Now they want them back?” I said, tilting my head. “This is a delicate matter, my boy! Trust me, I am telling you this in the strictest confidence. There...
My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs, I was sure my chest would burst. I heard nothing but the sound of my feet making contact with the pavement as I ran through the streets. My belt was still not fastened, and I held my trousers up with my hands. The image of Andre Lacey’s twisted body haunted me. Now I had really messed up. My shirt was soaked in blood, but I had no time to stop and check how deep the wound was. I didn’t know if they were chasing me, but I was a dead man either way....
I embraced the small woman in front of me. She was wet and shivering. One of her hands grabbed my shoulder and we stood there holding on to each other in the rain. She was holding something between us which I was pressed uncomfortably against. Her hair clung to her head, heavy from the water. My face and hands were freezing cold and every raindrop hit me like an icy bullet. I opened my eyes and looked out over the empty street. In the light of the street lanterns you could see the water...
“Miss Kite?” I inquired as I opened the door. She smiled at me. Alice looked as lovely as the faithful day I met her. She no longer wore a maids cap. Instead she wore her hair up and wavy like it was the fashion. I could not see what she wore under her olive green coat, but admittedly I was curious. “May I take your coat, Miss?” It was all quite silly really. I had only just gotten to the office myself, and I realized that I had absolutely no idea where the coat hangers were – if the were any!
It’s rather surprising how much a mattress can cost. Well, to be fair I didn’t want just any old moldy thing. After all, this was for Alice. I went to a couple of murky shops and eventually found something I could afford, but which didn’t look like you could get cholera from it. The mattress was rather thin but this only meant I could roll it up and carry it more easily. I got a blanket as well after some discussion. The sun was setting when I strolled down the street towards my office. I got...
“Wow, what do you think this means?” said Jane. “That I may be making a mistake. No use looking for them. They were gone the minute they threw this.” “Is it about that case you’re working on?” “I think so, but really Jane, I shouldn’t talk about it!” I said. I looked at the window. How on earth could I afford repairing that? Jane tried to snatch the letter from my hand, but took it and put it in mt coat pocket. “You had better get dressed, Jane. I am.” Jane pouted slightly and got up. We...
I had phoned the police, and they had arrived faster than I had expected. I sat in the kitchen of Miss Johnson’s flat at a small coffee table and stared at the tablecloth. Opposite me sat Alice who was as silent as the grave. I looked up to find her looking at me, but she then quickly looked away. We had already given our statements and I could heard the police officers walking about in the living room. ‘Look..’ I began but was interrupted as a tall, wide man came into the room and called my...
Hi my name is Toby, and I am 17 years old and in my last year of high school. The story that I’m about to tell you happened during a work experience placement. I was away from school on the day that the placements were allocated, so that’s why I finished up being allocated to a Thai massage service. I copped a heap of ribbing about my allocation. I was used to be ribbed because of my build - I am only 5ft 5ins tall with a slender build. I’m no sports hero, being towered over by the 6ft plus...
Did you ever look back at your youth and fantasize about redoing it a second time with all of your future knowledge and experiences? What would you do if given a second chance? Would you take the path you didn't take the first time? That's where my story starts. Or ends, depending on your point of view. Time travel gets confusing like that. Friday, April 6 2018 My name is Anthony Demarco. Friends and family call my Tony. You can call me Tony too since you're reading this. I'm...
Women's Preference Belladonna [Author's Note: Loosely based on ideas provided by Mitzi and Jennifer] Preston Holly rubbed his bald head as he stared into the mirror and gazed at the reflection that still struck him as so peculiar. It had not been that long since he had a thick mane of dark brown hair, but, now, he did not even have a single hair on his head. The diagnosis for his rapid hair loss was crushing to Preston. Alopecia universalis, words he struggled to even...
My old schoolmate Lex has a problem. He has been married for 5 years to the prettiest girl in class, and every guy would like to fuck her. In talk or in apps they sort of openly say so to one another, and oddly enough Lex himself would rather have somebody else fuck his wife than fucking her himself. Strange guy ...And watching another guy fuck his wife is his ultimate fantasy. The thought of it has turned him on daily for quite a while. He has one other condition to letting somebody else fuck...
I had read about the place on the Cruise Spots feature on Men4sexnow and found the description really hot—something like, “I thought I had walked onto set for a gay porn movie.” Unfortunately, I had failed to write down the address, so I was just cruising blind as I tried to find the place when I was in town on the far-east side of the Phoenix area on a short visit. I had just about given up when I noticed this very non-descript building with a sign, PERSONAL PREFERENCE as I drove by it. I did...