Your Graceful Grace Ch 03

The next few days, John became consumed with his thoughts of Sharon. Each night, as promised, she would enter his room and quietly expertly work out a massive load.

He could think of nothing else, even with everyone fawning over the paladins. Although the convent was sworn not to reveal their presence, the nearby village suddenly became very interested in dropping by and trying to catch a glimpse of them. Even without a full recovery, they had to move along and promised that should they ever be nearby, they would visit.

John had been able to speak to them when he went to the nursing station to get his wounds checked. Although gravely injured, they were making swift recovery like John. As they were mostly surrounded by nuns, they enjoyed talking with John and even shared a few war stories.

The last time he spoke to them, they were deep in a chess game. Sir Gabriel, the older, higher-ranking paladin, clearly toyed with his younger opponent, Sir Raphael. Knowing his defeat, the young paladin resigned and asked John for a match, seeing as there was no way he could put up a good fight against Sir Gabriel.

John, not so sure of his skill level, was excited. He knew paladins were all trained not just in martial combat all their lives but brilliant scholars as well. The two had an intense match. Sir Raphael became a bit cocky when the match was seen to grind to a stalemate. Each only having a pawn and a knight left. John knew he should be happy with the draw but played on. In a series of dull moves, the young paladin blundered, and his face reddened in resignation as Sir Gabriel roared with laughter. Jabbing the young paladin, saying everyone will not let you live down this defeat to a random commoner.

Sir Raphael, more annoyed at Sir Gabriel, composed himself and shook John's hand. There was admiration in his eyes. "Good game, well played. I will keep learning and training. I hope life grants us the chance to meet and I promise our rematch will have a different outcome."

John smiled. It was hard to hide pride now. He knew there was a lot he could also improve on, but his mind was now all consumed by one thing and one thing only.

Even the warm baths, although sometimes assisted by Viola, meant little to him. He wouldn't even try to tease her about his hard cock. And Viola pretended it wasn't there. She would try her best not to fantasize about it as she would quickly scrub him down. She would look at John's eyes as she carefully cleaned his cock. John now only had eyes for one glorious woman.

John was conflicted. She was the closest thing to a mother figure, and he knew this was wrong. He wrestled with his growing lust and his devout conviction this was wrong. Sharon knew he was troubled, and although she never even hinted at their activities during the day each night, she would calmly reassure him he was a growing man with needs, and it was perfectly okay and natural to let someone help. Her soft low voice only quickened his lust, and he would cum hard each time.

Sharon quickly began to remove her top layers and let her hair down. His stares reassured her that this made him feel at ease and helped him cum faster. After a few weeks, his stamina built up. Indeed even though he promised her he was trying to cum as quickly as possible, he would fight with all his might to delay, mostly in vain. He wished to slow down as much as possible and enjoy each drop of these precious nights with Sharon.

She knew he was constantly trying to last longer, and it filled her with joy how he would turn to puddy in her fingers. Although she quickly became very comfortable with their arrangement, she would make an effort to hide her pleasure. She had become fond of helping him this way and began to enjoy herself immensely. She was good at hiding her pleasure, but he would pick up on the subtle subconscious hints. Her breasts would swell whole, pushing against the thin fabric of her shirt. Her nipples would practically rip through the fabric. Her face became youthful, and her tongue heavy and wet--a barely visible pink flush on her face when he came.

She began to make a conscious effort to come with wet hair and push her tits on him or up close to his face. She still tried to maintain a low monotone voice, gently coaxing him to cum. In the beginning, she immediately threw the towels into the wash, but after a few sessions, she would take them to her private office first, and she would stare at the cum and begin to sniff and inhale the sticky mess. She would masturbate furiously and eventually began to taste and eat the cum. The first time she allowed herself to eat and swallow the cum, her body trembled as her orgasm rumbled every inch of her.

As their comfort and drives grew red hot, she commented that the immense amount of cum meant they should probably get relief more than once a day. "Just ask when the urge is too much to bear, and if we can find a quiet, secluded spot, we can get an extra session out of the way."

The first time was the following day during prayer hour. Everyone was quietly in deep prayerful meditation. John was too scared to ask, but as he approached, Sharon's big, warm smile and twinkle in her eye let him know it was okay to ask. The easiest spot would be her study as it was a private office, and she was second only to Mother Superior. He had been in her study many times, but this time, as she locked the door behind her, he slowly studied her collection of books, primarily religious, a massive pile of papers overtaking her desk and a few trinkets.

She sat him in her oversized, comfortable chair, pulled down his pants, and got in between his knees. She removed her top layer and said, "We have to be really quick this time. We don't want to be gone the entire prayer hour. Someone will surely notice."

"I know, Mom, I'll try."

"Please try," she said in her low voice. She pushed her tits into his thighs, the thin fabric of her shirt the only separation. She began to stroke expertly. "We really do need to be quick. You can do it for me, can't you, baby?"

"I'm trying," John gasped, fighting against this with all his might. Sharon looked wonderful, her big eyes shimmering. They knew everyone else was quiet, and they had to be as quiet as possible. A deep sense of desire was shifting. Where there was once fear and guilt, now lust and desire unfurled like a flower blooming. His eyes locked onto her heaving chest as her breath quickened.

"Do you think if I show you them, it will help you go faster?" She asked, repositioning herself in between his legs.

John nodded furiously.

Swiftly and impossibly quietly, she stood up and removed her shirt. He was treated to the most glorious titty drop. Incredibly pale because she never put them in the sun, her massive round tits sat inches from John's face. Her slightly pink-colored nipples were perked up and very hard. They screamed for John to ravage them. Frozen with surprise, John was left with his mouth gaping.

She kneeled back down she used her hands to shove her massive tits to cradle his balls on top of them. The nipples brushing his skin sent electric shivers up her body. She shivered as she tried to get back into a rhythm of massaging his balls against her tits while stroking him.

It was too much. The room became impossibly hot. John burned with lust; nothing he could do would be enough to stop his eruption. Sharon blushed; all pretenses of trying to be remote and not turned on by the situation left her face and body. She quickened her pace, and her sultry stare sealed inevitability into him.

"I'm cumming," he tried to mouth.

She already knew the signs and signals and knew with precision the moment he crossed his threshold. She swiftly grabbed her shirt. He came so much, globs sprayed her onto her tits. She chuckled softly as she wiped up the mess. "I'm glad that was quick," she whispered softly in his ear. John was hyper-aware of hanging heavy breasts grazing him. Her sweet smell intoxicated him. She carefully folded the cum soaked shirt and stuck it in a drawer.

Still topless, she helped him dress. And said, "You first, I'm going to finish cleaning."

He closed the door, still trembling. Something kept him from leaving her door, and he paused to listen. He could no longer hear her shuffling about in her office. He pressed his ear to her door, and ever so faintly, he thought he could make out deep breaths and the sweetest, soft moans. A furious, barely audible scratching etched deep into his mind.