*I'm being fucked,* Karen dreamed. *He's taking me from behind. My ass is in the air and my cheek is resting on my folded arms. His cock is perfectly fitted to me, and I can't bear the intensity of it. Each stroke tightens the tension another click. Screw your horniness to the sticking place, I think, recalling a line from Macbeth. I can't imagine being any hornier than I am now.*
*The tingling starts, the first sensation that will lead to the rush of orgasm, of climax, of coming. It's terrifying in its intensity, and moreso because I have no idea who's giving it to me. When I try to look back, a firm hand grabs the back of my head and presses it down. I can't see him, and he's completely silent. The only sounds are my own whimpering.*
*He pumps into me faster now. The wet, squelching sound is both shameful and exhilarating. I wonder at my own wetness, my own capacity, because now his cock seems enormous, plumbing depths of my body I never knew existed. I wonder in a panic if he's wearing a condom, but then I don't care, I want the hot sense of his cum spurting into me, or even better, splattering on my sweaty, bare ass as he pulls out at the last minute, leaving me aching and empty. I realize it's the sensation of being ABOUT to come that I crave, not the orgasm, and I want him to pull out, but he's not, and I'm about to come, and--*
Karen woke up with a cry. She stared up through the leaves of the shelter at the stars, visible through the tops of the palms. She was soaked with sweat, and the smell filled her nostrils.
She rose on her elbows and looked down the length of her naked body. Agnes slept curled at her feet, slowly unfurling after being awakened by Karen's cry. Then, without a word, she gently crawled between Karen's legs and bent her tongue again to its work.
Karen cried out at the first touch against her swollen, tender labia. The motion was slow, methodical, designed to conserve the nun's strength and allow her to continue for as long as possible. It was the motion of someone used to doing this.
Karen gasped as the orgasm built within her. Her clitoris and vulva began to tingle in anticipation, in real life not dream-time. "Oh, God," she whispered, and lowered herself back to the ground, "oh, Jesus, no, no more...." Then her spine arched and she clawed at the ground. She must've cried out, she always did when she came, but the blood rushing in her head blocked out the sound.
As the rush subsided, she felt the crushed handfuls of wet earth slip from her fingers. She sucked in lungfuls of heavy, humid air. When she could breath normally again, she raised her head. Agnes looked at her sympathetically, the nun's cheek resting against her thigh. Her mouth and chin shone with Karen's juices in the faint starlight.
Karen reached down and brushed hair from Agnes' face. She felt a wave of tenderness and compassion for the girl. "Let me do you," Karen said, trying to rise. "You've been so good to me, let me...."
Agnes shook her head and smiled. "No, I'm a nun, sworn to celibacy."
Karen fell back with a weak laugh. "What you're doing to me isn't celibacy, Sister."
"No, it's ministering to those in need. Giving you pleasure helps you overcome the evil that was done to you. Were I to let you do the same for me, though, I would be breaking my vow."
Karen draped an arm over her eyes. "Do you greet all the new arrivals this way?"
