John tried his best to find the windows of opportunity to get a session, even with a newly found interest and scrutiny from Mother Superior. She would drop by asking John questions about himself and how his studies were going. She would drop by his classes, to much chagrin, by students and teachers. She had a new assistant who arrived from who knew where and was always in her ear. John started to notice that the assistant would always be close by, paying close attention to him. This made it difficult to find time to get away.
John and his small cohort would soon graduate, and most had been accepted into a seminary school in the large city a few days by horse ride away.
He redoubled his efforts to find windows of opportunity and had several sessions when the rest of the convent was in an event or church service. He looked for ways to sneak away. Sharon was good about realizing when he needed it and did her best to pull away when she could. Although between being second in command and the scrutiny of high mother meant the windows seemed few and far between to them. But, without missing a night, she would come clean and change his bandages. He felt fortunate by what followed each time.
Sharon no longer wore an undershirt, ever it seemed. And on several occasions, no underdress. Just plain white panties that made John's blood roar to his member.
Each time, he would take his time drinking in the sweet sight of those heavenly breasts. Because she always wore a habit, her breasts were incredibly pale. Large, round, and heavy, he loved when they would brush up against his skin. Her nipples were nicely shaped. They were smallish very round, and the areola was very light. It would almost disappear in the low glow of moonlight, as he could barely make out its perimeter. Her nipples were beautiful. Even when they started soft when she would begin to stroke him, and his pre cum would flow into her oil-slicked hands, her nipples would harden and stand erect.
They screamed to John for a taste. These glorious tits would sway and tremble as she swiftly serviced him. She smelled glorious, but on occasion, she would come to his room without showering, and that is when John felt that she smelled the best. He grew to love the rankness of her mature womanly smell, and it would drive him insane. He would cum with explosive abandon.
Now that over two months had passed, his hands were fully healed, but he continued to exaggerate his discomfort and ability to function with them. The nurse, in their conclave, very publicly announced that despite his protests, John's hands were fully healed, and he no longer needed bandages or extra help. After all, everyone knew the nuns seemed to have divine healing powers.
Sharon smiled yet seemed sad. She hugged him and said, "How about one last time?"
"Yes," he pleaded.
