Penguins Preference a Toby Wakefield story Chapter 8
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Penguins' Preference (a Toby Wakefield Story)Chapter 10 free porn video
I felt squeamish walking onto the St. Bart’s campus, hoping that I wouldn’t see Father Des or Father Frank before I talked with Sister Natalie. Her door was open, and she saw me walking toward it from her desk. “Come in Toby, close the door behind you.” Rising from her chair she approached me, reached out, and placed her right hand on my cheek. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. Neither Father Desmond nor Father Frank will ever bother you again.”
I wondered what kind of power this woman possessed that she could be so sure. Reading my eyes, she said, “Just let’s say that I’m close to someone very powerful in the Church whom I’ve let know about your attackers’ behavior.” She didn’t elaborate. “Did you learn anything useful from your ordeal?” I tried to think. She slapped my face, not in anger and not hard, just hard enough to make a point. But she had with a twinkle in her eyes, “Rascal.” (That’s what Father Desmond called me when he accused me of masturbating in the confessional).
She gently shook my shoulders as she said, “The door was closed Toby. Never barge into a room without assessing that something on the other side might be a possible threat to you.”
I wanted to tell her that I thought he might have been hurt because of his moaning. Once again reading my thoughts she said, “They should have been quieter. They should have locked the door for pity’s sake. But do you get my point?” I nodded. Sandwiching my face between her hands she kissed my lips with incredible eroticism and said, “Lock the door.”
I turned and walked to the door, turned the key which worked the lock on both the inside and outside (a double deadbolt) then let Cassie take my hand and pull me into her. We kissed. It was a needy kind of kiss for both of us.
I guess Mother Superior was confident that she could handle the situation between me and the priests. I thought I had been a goner and was afraid my reputation might suffer in some way if any of my friends heard that I had almost been raped by “cocksuckers.” That was a mean term in my young days (we all understood the act but had no clue what homosexuality or bisexuality was all about).
Our kiss quickly turned French, exploring the insides of each other’s mouths as if we thought we might have lost what we had and were trying to recover it. Our hands explored each other’s our body, my hands on her ass, hers finding space between us and fondling my growing hardness through my pants. Breaking the kiss, she leaned her head back and gazed deeply into my eyes. “Toby, Toby, Toby,” she said. “Did you think this was all over?”
“I wasn’t sure Cassie I felt ... I felt like it might be but...”
“But what Toby?”
“There’s just something about you Cassie that has always made me believe there is nothing you can’t resolve.” She hugged me tight like she was my mother.
“It may seem that way to you Toby but I’m not all powerful. I just know somebody powerful. I can make things happen as Mother Superior but not as Cassie. You must understand that young man. And as Mother Superior I need reassurance from you that Cassie, the human being who is embracing you at this moment, is never ever to be divulged to anybody within or outside of the Church. Is that understood?” I nodded my head and swallowed the lump in my throat. Somehow, I knew that this might have been the most serious moment in my life.
“I know that you love Sister Mary Cecile and call her Cissy. It’s understandable that you feel that way toward her; she’s close enough to your age. In the eyes of the Church Toby what we do and what I allow here is most outrageous and sinful things. At the same time, you caught Father Desmond and Father Frank in a homosexual act that led to your almost being raped by two priests. The Church is a beautiful thing, Toby. Yet sinful and corrupt things go on here. These things don’t go on in every parish but things like these go on in many. Sinful and corrupt things go on in the hierarchy of your church as well. They go on wherever human beings are involved.”
“Holy Church requires us—priests and nuns—to mortify our flesh, to be celibate. That means that neither priests nor nuns can marry and have families. It’s not always been like that but has for hundreds of years. Holy Church requires us to make great sacrifices Toby.”
It was as if she was conducting a college course on human sexuality: “As you know the need for sex is overpowering. I suspect that your sheets are stained with your semen from masturbating in bed.” I blushed. She laughed and said, “But I imagine that they are not stained as badly as they were before you came to work at St. Bart’s.”
She gave me a moment to dwell on that. “It’s probably considered a sin for you to masturbate Toby; it’s written in the Bible. I don’t know what you do when you sin ... pray maybe if you choose to? In the Catholic Church we go to confession. I as Mother Superior will confess what I will be doing with you in just a few moments.” She gave me a moment to consider what she said then went on, “Cassie, a figment of my imagination, will be enjoying every second of what you and I do. She will not need to confess, only enjoy. I tell these things to you so that you know that all human beings have the same feelings. I also tell you that I have power in this parish that few nuns have because my brother is a Monsignor who is highly favored in Rome.”
“I can’t tell you the specifics about why you are back at St. Bart’s after being accused by Father Desmond of masturbating in the confessional ... that lie being given after he and Father Frank sucked each other’s penises ... and when you discovered them, tried to rape you.” She shook her head at the incredible thing she had just told me. “I’m just glad that you were able to get away and tell me, probably the only person in the world who could have made it all work out this way.”
She stared at me for the longest time. Tears gathered in her eyes, something I had never seen before.
Finally, she said, “I don’t expect you to fully understand what I am trying to explain to you, but I know the wheels are turning in your head. You’re a gift to all of us Toby, even to Fathers Des and Frank, if you can believe that. Okay?”
It seemed that I stared at her for five minutes, but it was probably only ten or fifteen seconds. I knew she expected an answer to make sure that what she had just implanted in my brain would have meaning to me. “I’m not sure I understand everything you are saying Mother Superior, but I know I will probably be thinking about it for the rest of my life.”
“That’s all I can ask Toby. I can’t tell you how important you are to me. One day you might actually think that this conversation might have given more meaning to you about the mystery of human nature than anything else in your life.” She took my hand and started guiding me toward the soft, brown leather couch and said, “Now, let Cassie show you how much she appreciates you.”
As I stood in front of the couch her soft, pillowy lips melted into mine. I parted them as she opened hers. As she had done so many times in the past, she slipped her tongue into my mouth and let me feel her velvety taste buds skating on its hard roof to the soft place on my palate. My tongue skimmed the wet slickness of her tongue’s underside and we explored trying to find sensual seams we hadn’t yet discovered.
The sensuous exploration of our curling tongues tickled my partially hard penis into pulsing rigidity. Breaking the kiss she looked searchingly into my eyes, shook her head as if in disbelief and with an affectionate smile she said, “You’ve been so natural at this since the day you painted my room. I don’t believe there’s a person alive who would believe what an affectionate lover you are.” She was unbuckling my belt as she said it, unzipping my pants, undoing the button, and lowering my pants to my knees.
Looking at my hardness she held it admiringly in her hand. “And you’re built in such a way that any man would love to be.” As she gently stroked me, she kissed my lips again then said, “Sit down on the couch Toby.” I plopped on the edge of the cushion, knowing what would follow. “I’m ovulating Toby,” she said, chuckling. “A woman my age should be going through menopause. Do you know what that means?”
I nodded my head and said, “I’ve heard my mom talking about it with her friends. It means that you wouldn’t be able to get pregnant anymore?”
“Being pregnant is something a nun can only dream of Toby, though we’re not supposed to.”
As she dropped to her knees, she gave her head an angular shake and said with a wry smirk, “If I were a normal woman, I would love to have your baby Toby. But I’m not a normal woman. But I’m fertile today. So, there can be no fucking in our sinful hanky-panky.” (My thoughts about using condoms had been adamantly dismissed soon after our first experience).
The way she said it—looking up at me like a disappointed child—would have brought tears to my eyes had my cock not been throbbing with such expectation. She was so adorable—my boss and my mentor—and I was so relieved that nothing would come of my experience with the priests and their wrongful accusation.
It seemed to me that Cassie was giving more care and attention to every aspect of St. Bart’s most sought-after organ, my dick. Does she have the same feelings of relief that I am feeling or is there more to it than that?
I would find out part of the answer sooner than I would have wanted. Usually, she just took as much of me as she could fit into her mouth. But this time she took such care in wetting her lips and making minute moves over on my glans and its lobed underside. The prolonged tingling had grown to electric surges that made me want to come so badly. But I knew Cassie would have been disappointed had I forgotten the discipline of the delayed gratification she’d spent so much time teaching me to master.
Then, as her head kept moving while she cradled my scrotum in her hand, she seemed obsessed to generate a huge lake of sperm that was bubbling from my testicles to my prostate. Her fellatio seemed like it would last forever, and the noise of her excitement made her act crazed. I was thinking that she was doing it in a workman-like manner rather than in an aspect of lovemaking. Every time I tensed as if I would come, she quickly pressed her fingertip in my “guy-spot” (the soft spot between my scrotum and anus) to stave off the inevitable.
Thinking back to the other times we did this when she was ovulating, I realized her actions were more intense this time—my balls ached with the need to release. Just then the grandfather’s clock began striking the hour of ten. While still pressing hard on my spot she quickly pulled her mouth off me and said in panting breaths, “I have a surprise for you Toby.”
I had no idea why she had tried to keep me from coming; she had always got such enjoyment from getting a mouthful of my seed. “Someone is coming to the office Toby; we need to straighten ourselves out. She was up quickly getting into her habit. I pulled up my pants, zipped up, buttoned my waistband, and tightened my belt. My balls were aching like hell but her urgency to get onto something else caused my erection to deflate. There was a knock on the door. “Do you mind unlocking the door?” she said with twinkle in her eye.
Turning the key in the lock I opened the door. Totally surprised that Sister Mary Cecile was standing there with her own surprise showing on her face I heard her say with a joyous grin, “My GOODNESS Toby welcome back!”
“Come in Sister Mary Cecile,” Mother Superior called to her from her desk. “Close the door Toby, would you please.”
There was something going on between the Reverend Mother and the youngest sister. Sister Natalie’s eyes were dancing. Mary Cecile was confused but obviously pleased that I had made it through the ordeal that was not explained to her or any of the sisters. Sister Natalie looked at Mary Cecile and said, “You need to have a serious talk with Toby sister.”
About what? I wanted to ask.
Looking at me she read the question on my face. “Maybe about the sinful way you have both been acting toward each other since the Diocese Day baseball game.”
She looked accusingly back and forth between us. “It’s got to stop sometime. I’ll give you an hour to talk it over.” With that she went to the door, opened it, walked out, and closed it behind her.
As I heard the door being locked from the other side by Mother Superior’s key, I looked Cissy and said, “So?”
She was too orderly when she said, “She’s thrilled that you’ve come through this thing unscathed, she was really worried about it. It’s unheard of for a nun to come out the way she did in a dispute with a parish Priest, though I don’t know what went on to cause the problem.”
I couldn’t let pass the feeling that it seemed that Mother Superior and the youngest of her nuns were in cahoots in something. And why did she give me such an incredible blowjob? She loved having me come in her mouth and have usually had me do it twice under the same circumstances. The fact that she and I did it in her office was amazing to me as well. And here Mary Cecil and I were alone, locked into Mother Superior’s office. It was all mystifying me. “Reverend Mother told me about it last night,” she said. “None of the other sisters know about it.” She blushed. “I lied when I told you that I didn’t know” demurely lowering her head.
“So, you know how it came down?” I asked, surprised that she and the Mother Superior had become so confidential, particularly in such a short period of time that I had been gone.”
Shrugging her shoulders, she said that she told her brother Monsignor Francis McLaughlin. “He is a very powerful man in the church. Reverend Mother said she expects he will be appointed as Cardinal soon. He flew in overnight from Boston and talked with Father Desmond.”
“But you said that the other nuns don’t know about this Cissy. How can you, the youngest nun of all be in on it?” (For a kid who had been having sex with sisters at St. Bart’s I’d become astute at the workings of the organization).
“Well,” she said, “I’ve told you about my not being happy about my life as a nun. I’ve talked about it with Reverend Mother as well, she’s always listened to me and even told me that she understands ... that some women are born to be nuns and others are not cut out for it.”
So,” I asked, ‘What has that to do with the Monsignor?”
“Well, when Father McLaughlin came Reverend Mother had a meeting with us, I mean with Father McLaughlin, me and herself. Then she spent a lot of time with me alone and told me what to say to Father McLaughlin. Then Father McLaughlin spent a lot of time with me alone. We talked to almost two o’clock in the morning. He spent a lot of time trying to convince me that what I was thinking was wrong. When he was convinced that I wouldn’t change my mind he started asking me a lot of questions. Sometimes they were the same question only asked in a different way. He asked me just how far I was willing to go to leave the order without being excommunicated. I told him that I wanted to leave so badly that I was willing to accept excommunication if it came to that. He finally said that he would try to help.”
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