Amy stood daydreaming in the classroom. The religious instructor droned on and on to Amy's students about the morality of sexuality.
"The devil will take your idle fingers and criss-cross your body with sinful desire! You must resist his wicked attempts to twist you to his perversity!" he shrieked.
Someone ought to twist you and criss-cross your body, Amy thought. Maybe a solid rodgering would take that sanctimonious stick out of your ass.
Amy had been working at the conservative Catholic school for almost six years now, and aside from the religious components to the day-to-day, it was a good gig. It paid well, and the fervour and zealous nature of culture meant she had to do very little in the way of behaviour management. She could teach her science and maths classes as she saw fit. Amy had to pay some lip service to the Catholic beliefs there, with the occasional comment about science's lack of spirituality, but for the most part she was free to do what she liked.
This was not one of the things she liked.
She had pastoral care of a class for the last period of every day, meaning that she simply supervised a group for about an hour. In this hour, the chaplain came in to speak to the students about what they were doing wrong with their lives and how to be less evil little sinners. Amy had grown up believing these things, but hearing a middle aged man scream at teenagers about things he clearly didn't know anything about made her feel like stabbing him in the face with a crucifix. Life just seemed too complex for his banal platitudes to be right.
She tried to let the toxic words pass over her and remember the pleasure from yesterday. Amy had woken up confused and half naked, and within an hour had two of the most intense orgasms of her life - from another woman. Amy only had a couple of (relatively) chaste relationships with men in her university years and had always considered herself to be heterosexual. However, looking at Quinne's taut skin and firm musculature as water cascaded over her perky breasts...well, Amy thought she might need to rethink her identity. At least a bit. The memory of Quinne's tongue dancing across her clit...
"Boys! Do not be fooled! A woman who touches herself defiles us all with her presence. If she rings the devil's doorbell, you must not answer!"
The drivel spewing from this idiot's mouth was almost more than she could stand, but luckily the school bell's ringing prevented her from saying something she might have regretted later. Amy dismissed her class and did her best to ignore the obnoxious pastor on the way out. She had something better to look forward to.
After their little encounter in the shower, they had gotten dressed and stood for a moment considering one another. Amy was towelling off her hair when Quinne had sidled up to her and squeezed her ass. She squealed in surprise and batted away her hand.
"Let me finish drying off, would you?" Amy chastised.
Quinne just grinned at her.
"Why would I do that when you've got such a nice round ass? I just want to touch it!"
She reached around to touch her again, but Amy smacked her hand again.
"How would you feel if I wanted to fondle your body all the time?" Amy asked.
Quinne just shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
With that, the taller woman swivelled on the balls of her feet and waggled her ass at her. Amy couldn't help but crack a smile at the display.
"That's better," Quinne said. "You're so much prettier when you smile."
Amy blushed. She wasn't used to hearing compliments, and between Quinne's words and physical attention, she felt a little overwhelmed.
"Uh...thanks," she managed.
Quinne suddenly pulled Amy in close and gave her a full, deep kiss. When they parted, Amy found herself breathing faster than a moment ago. She tried to speak but Quinne held a finger up to her lips.
"Be still. I have things to do but we're only getting started. I want more, but I realise this might be too much for you," Quinne said.
Amy looked into the hazel eyes of the toned woman; she saw a hunger there, but also something else. It wasn't just a lust that she saw in Quinne, but a drive, a wilfulness, a compulsion. Amy felt a thrill of excitement with a mix of fear.
Quinne continued - "Here's the deal. If this was just a bit of after-party fun, that's fine. But if you'd like something more intense -"she gestured towards the front door - "that'll be open tomorrow night for you."
36 hours had passed since Amy received that invitation. She initially dismissed it, and was almost inclined to pretend it had never happened. Amy's previous sexual forays had ended poorly and barely even masturbated anymore since her last breakup. Her ex-boyfriend was a jerk who had slapped her after a session of heavy petting - they had been making out in his bedroom, hands excitedly exploring the other's body. After rubbing her hands against his pants for less than a minute, she suddenly found her hand covered in a sticky patch. When she'd asked him if he'd come already, he grew red with rage and backhanded her.
Amy's previous boyfriend hadn't been much better. His trigger went off with even less effort, and afterwards he'd tell her 'he was done'. She'd be left frustrated and angry. Amy was not inclined to risk further humiliation or cruelty from selfish pricks.
However, the more Amy thought about it, the more her curiosity was aroused. Quinne didn't just want to be pleasured - she wanted Amy's pleasure. Quinne had fingerfucked her and eaten her out just to see Amy come. She had to admit that there was a satisfaction in watching the other girl orgasm too, and she wondered what Quinne meant at the end of the shower -
"I'll just have to find some other way to fuck you."
Amy stopped for a moment as she walked out of the school, feeling a shiver run down her spine.
Time to find out what she meant.
Dusk crept around the corners of the yard as Amy approached the house. She hadn't been paying much attention when she'd visited the first time around, but all in all, it was pretty impressive. A modern, high-ceilinged affair with wide rectangular windows. She could see into this house from the road, though there didn't appear to be anyone inside. Amy stepped along an orange terracotta tiled pathway that led along to the white wooden front door. There was no doorknob, no handle or any kind of buzzer. She reached her hand up to knock on the door when she noticed that the door was ajar - it was just slightly out of the jamb to allow the first person by easy access.
Amy pushed the door open and called into the house.
