Room D21

"Here it is," said the friendly hotel clerk, stopping in front of room 21.

I hadn't been able to find it without her help. From the outside it didn't look like a hotel where it would be hard to find your way. Tall but narrow, squashed in between this shop and the next. But it was difficult. You'd think there'd be a system and D21 would perhaps be on the fourth floor between room D20 and room D22 or something. But no. As a fairly successful businessman, who considered himself independent, I always found it embarrassing to admit needing help. But I did in end — there's only so long you can wander around in a hotel looking lost.

She'd led me along the corridor up a few flights, where I hadn't thought of looking myself, through some doors, around some corners,

down

again, further along, until there it was, room D21. Between room E1 and A15. Crazy.

No point thinking about it too much

, I thought. I was tired.

She handed me the key. Besides the normal room key there were two small, old-fashioned keys on the keyring. I opened the door, lifted my suitcase, stepped in. There was already someone in the room. I started. I gave the hotel clerk a questioning look.

"They come with the room." She took her leave.

There were two women in the room. Nuns. Or dressed as nuns at least. They looked young. They sat on the side of the bed, wide eyed, hands on their lap. Very pretty.

"I'm Sister Maria," said one.

"I'm Sister Renata," said the other.

They looked similar. Thin, straight eyebrows. Sweet, slightly parted lips. Curious, wide eyes. The one called Maria gestured to sit down between them, so I did. I was flustered, but not too much.

She placed a hand on my lap, a delicate hand, and smiled reassuringly. Renata reached over and undid the buttons of my suit.

"Let's get you out of this," she said, "you must have been travelling for a while."

"It was a long flight," I replied. Since I didn't know how to express my surprise, I found it easiest to just act like this was normal. Never show weakness.

"Do you have anything scheduled tonight?" asked Maria. They both spoke English clearly and carefully, but their Italian accents were fairly obvious.

"No, only from 9 a.m. tomorrow." Business meetings. We were trying to set up overseas operations.

"That's good. You should always relax after traveling for a long time," said Maria.

Renata bent down to undo my shoes and Mary carefully unbuttoned my shirt. Their hair was entirely hidden by their coif. They were slim, their womanly shapes clear beneath their nun's habits, extra pronounced by an elegant cincture tied around their waist.

Maria lifted up my under-shirt. I lifted my arms to make easier for her to lift it up over head. Until I knew more about the situation I found it best to act normal.

"From what order are you?" I asked.

"Benedictine," she replied, "we were inducted in Würzburg."

This didn't give me any hints. I know Würzburg was in Germany, but not much else. Renata undid my belt. At this point, under the gentle treatment of two young women, I found it quite appropriate to get hard. As she pulled out my belt her hand barely brushed against my bulge.

Maria took my hand and guided me up and while the other undid the button and zip of my suit pants, she bent down and reached for the hem of her tunic. It tightly hugged her hips and legs and must not have allowed big steps. With one slow, flowing movement she lifted it up and over her head. Apart from her coif and shoes she was now naked. She wore plain black leather shoes with a somewhat taller heel on them than you would expect of nun's shoes. Under the tunic of her habit she wore nothing. No, not nothing. She wore a delicate pair of panties. It hid nothing. It was thin and translucent. On the front, beneath her belly button was a little, old-fashioned lock. She stood still and allow my eyes to take it all in. On closer inspection, the panties seemed to consist of a chains of tiny, shiny rings, wrapped around her hips and between her legs and intricately woven into the slight, see-through fabric. The curious garment suited her lovely, slim body. Where she previously had a wondrous, but confident look, she now looked shy and was blushing.

Renata handed me the keys, which I had laid on the bedside table.

"You need these," she said. "Then we'll perform the vows."

How incredibly strange this is

, I thought. But besides my apprehension I was also very excited. I acted calmly.

I took a step towards Maria. I touched her belly. She didn't flinch. I stroked her abdomen and sides. I felt at the little lock. I stroked the strange fabric. I tried to feel the rim, trying to get my fingers between it and her belly, but it was too taut. Under the little, shiny rings that made up the panties her pussy also glistened. Her clit was prominent. She had no hair.

I tried one of the small keys and it fit. It came immediately undone. The whole thing unraveled smoothly and quickly. I was left holding the lock and one single, long, thin chain hanging from one end, the rest coiled in a puddle on the floor.

Renata guided my onto the bed. Maria followed. She put her leg over me, kneeled, her eyes fixed on mine, and very slowly sunk down onto me. Only at the end did she give out a tiny gasp. Despite my nervousness it felt heavenly. She was truly lovely. Her blush was spreading down her slender neck to her generous bosom.

"Do you, Maria Singer, take this man Marcel Dupont to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him and me for as long as we shall live?"

"I do."

"Do you, Marcel Dupont, take this woman Maria Singer to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her and me for as long as we shall live?"

"I do," was the only sensible thing I could think of saying at that moment.

"I now pronounce you man and wife and what God hath joined together, let no man nor woman put asunder."

Maria took that as her cue to start moving. In contrast to this, everything up to this point had seemed carefully choreographed. Her inexperience showed. She tried to rock on top of me, but a few times I popped out of her and she had to start anew. Despite the clumsiness her confidence was back. She was all giggles and playfulness.

"Oops," she laughed as my penis escaped her tight confines one more time.

Renata sat sideways next to us and looked on interested, attentively taking it all in. When I glanced at her she only smiled an encouraging smile. She still wore her full habit. One hand fidgeted with the hem. Only the heels of her shoes poked out underneath. I could only assume that beneath the heavy black fabric she wore the same arrangement and beneath that was equally wet and ready.

Maria, naked apart from the black veil of her coif, aflush, with beads of sweat on her chest and dilated pupils, had found a rhythm. I helped her keep to it by holding on to her ass with my hands. It was easy for my large hands to hold on to. I progressively pushed her down harder onto my dick while checking her expression for any sign of discomfort, but all I read was concentrated passion. When she came, it took her by surprise. She screamed and shuddered. I, certainly more sexually experienced, managed to keep myself back until then, but came quickly after. It only seemed appropriate to cum in her. What else was supposed to do? When she had calmed down she bent over and kissed me sensitively on the lips. She smelt of roses.

"Very good," laughed Renata, "are you ready for part two yet?" She sat up and undressed the same way her religious Sister had.

I shook my head. "Not yet," was all I managed to say.

It wasn't until days later that we actually had anything resembling a conversation. All my mind was capable of that first night were polite platitudes. And the next few days I had a busy schedule of meetings, dinners, and whatever other activities are required to build productive business-relationships. Late in the evening I was always met by two voracious, enthusiastic nuns who pounced on me as soon as I stepped over the threshold. When I asked them later what they did in those days while I was away, they told me about all the churches, shrines, and convents they visited. They were after all in Rome. What else are nuns supposed to do in Rome? They went to mass, prayed, and lit candles. No one who saw them during the day could have guessed that underneath that one layer of their pious tunic, they were nubile and naked, their pussy glistening and moist in expectation of their husband's cock in the evening.

"Mary Singer and Renata Singer," I plucked up the courage finally, "are you sisters?" I phrased it as a casual question, but I simply had to know.

"Of course we are," they replied, "all members of our order are Sisters."

"No, I mean are you related?"

"Of course we are. We're both married to you."

"You know what I mean," I said.

They grinned at each other and launched themselves at me anew.

One thing I did find out is that, while being obstinate when answering my questions, they were totally obedient and pliant in others ways. In bed they would do exactly what I said. They understood exactly what I meant, sometimes even before I'd finished saying it. First I only phrased careful suggestions. I'm careful by nature. But I quickly realised they relished any type of command.

"Lick her while I fuck her," I told Renata one time. I sat on the edge of the bed and helped Maria up and down on my dick while Renate kneeled between my legs

"Ephesians 5:22," said Maria plainly.

"That's a great one: 'Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord,'" said Renata and gleefully lapped at her co-wife's clit while I pumped in and out of her.

I did try to figure out why they were here, but got nowhere.

"So what made you come here from Germany?"

"We do as the Lord commands," said one.

"And you by extension," said the other while reaching out and squeezing my balls.

I didn't pry further, partly because I didn't want to sound desperate, partly for fear of breaking some kind of spell. It was too good to be true after all.

I half expected them to disappear without a trace when it was time to fly home — I was insecure about asking them directly for fear that they might look at me sadly and say no or simply vanish in a poof of smoke — but to my relief they dutifully followed me to the airport. They managed to book tickets beside me and we made polite conversation about business life/convent life, nobody around us suspecting anything. This excited me immensely. With only my eyes I gestured Maria beside me to stick her hand underneath her tunic and tease her always wet pussy and only a tiny curl of a smile made it clear to me that she did so and how much she was enjoying it. With barely half a glance I conveyed to my other wife she carefully slip her hand under the same tunic to help her, while Maria was telling me of one of her favourite bible verses. Only a slight squirming and a sigh revealed her orgasm to me.

Now my main worry was going to be what the neighbours were going to think...