In the small, sleepy town of Serenity, Sister Margaret was known for her radiant blonde hair, reaching down to her waist, and her petite figure, adorned with only the simplest of white robes. Her devotion to the Lord was unwavering, and her faith was as strong as her commitment to the church.
One fateful Sunday, after the service had ended, Sister Margaret found herself alone in the sanctuary. The sun shone through the stained glass windows, casting a myriad of colors upon the cold stone floor. She decided to use this moment of solitude to pray, as she often did.
As she knelt in front of the altar, her fingers intertwined, she felt a strange presence in the room. She opened her eyes to find a man standing before her, his body clad in black, his face concealed by a sinister mask. Fear coursed through her veins, but she found herself unable to move, transfixed by his presence.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice trembling.
“I am the one who has been watching you,” he replied, his voice deep and husky. “The one who has been admiring your beauty and your devotion. I am the one who has been yearning for you.”
Sister Margaret tried to stand, to run, but her legs refused to obey. The stranger took a step closer, and she could see the hunger in his eyes.
“I am not afraid of you,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You should be,” he said, a wicked smile playing upon his lips. “But I am not here to harm you, Margaret. I am here to show you pleasure, the likes of which you have never known.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, and she felt a jolt of electricity coursing through her body. She knew she should resist, but she couldn’t. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.
He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, and she responded in kind, her body betraying her despite her mind’s protests.
His hands roamed over her body, caressing her small breasts, teasing her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her robe. She moaned, unable to help herself, as he continued his assault on her senses.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nibbling and licking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She gasped as he reached her breasts, his mouth closing around one hard nipple, sucking and teasing it through the fabric.
Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath. She could feel her resolve crumbling, her desire for him growing stronger by the second.
He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire. “Take off your robe,” he commanded, his voice husky with need.
She hesitated for a moment, but then she complied, her body trembling as she revealed herself to him. He took a step back, his eyes roaming over her naked form, taking in every inch of her.
“You are beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with awe.
She blushed, her cheeks turning a deep red. She had never been naked in front of a man before, and the thought both terrified and excited her.
He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip, then sliding lower, to the apex of her thighs. She gasped as he made contact with her wet folds, her body responding to his touch despite her best efforts to resist.
He began to stroke her, his fingers sliding in and out of her wet heat, his thumb circling her clit. She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, her body begging for more.
He continued to pleasure her, his fingers moving faster, his thumb applying more pressure. She could feel the tension building inside of her, her orgasm growing closer with each passing second.
“I’m going to cum,” she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice filled with authority.
And she did, her body shuddering as she orgasmed, her juices flowing freely over his fingers.
He continued to stroke her, drawing out her pleasure, until she begged him to stop.
“Now it’s
