Last week, a family friend passed away in New York. Her name was Eleanor; she was ninety-six years old. She and her late husband were lifelong friends with my parents. I knew them as Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Harry. She was a fine woman, a devout Catholic who never missed a Sunday mass.

I wanted to pay my respects in person and decided to travel to New York for the church service and funeral. I booked an early morning flight, reserved a hotel room, and rented a car. The next morning, I was on my way. The services were the day after. I wasn’t thrilled about traveling to upstate New York in the middle of the winter, but it was the right thing to do.

My first order of business was to pick up my car at the Hertz counter and then check in at the Hilton Garden Inn near the airport. Check.

Second, I hadn’t had anything to eat all day; I needed to find a place for lunch. Easily resolved, I didn’t have to get back in the car. I walked to the Elmwood Inn right around the corner. They had a decent menu; the food was good, and the service was spot on. Check.

Third, I needed to find a Catholic church. Because Eleanor was a God-fearing woman, I felt it only right to have a mass said in her honor. I wanted to arrange this for her family. A church was an easy find not far from the hotel. Check.

This is where my unexpected adventure began. I found the church office and expected to be in and out fairly quickly. When I walked in, the building seemed to be deserted. I waited a few minutes, but still, no one was in sight.

I called out, “Hello!”

Finally, a woman appeared. “Hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. May I help you?”

It was hot in the office. I removed the leather jacket I was wearing over my dress.

“Yes. I’m in town for a funeral, and I would like a mass card and schedule a service.”

She was wearing dress pants and a loose-fitting print blouse. Something about this woman was alluring to me. I don’t know why. She wasn’t beautiful; she was quite plain. She wasn’t wearing make-up. Around her neck was a thin leather string with a wood crucifix as a necklace, and her hair was in a bun on top of her head. I think it made her look much older than she was.

Not a word was spoken between us as she leaned into her desk for the card. Her blouse fell forward. She wasn’t wearing a bra, giving me a perfect view of her perky little tits. This always happens to me. Now, all I wanted to do was touch her. In a different setting, I might have responded, but we were in a church. I am not a religious person, but I do have some respect.

She wrote down some information about Eleanor and set a date for a mass on the church calendar. “We ask for a small donation for our mass cards.”

I said, “Of course. Will fifty dollars cover it?”

She casually unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse as she answered me. “Oh, absolutely, that is very generous. God bless you for your generosity.”

It was arousing. I opened my purse and pulled out the money. “I’m sorry, all I have is a large bill. Do you have change for a hundred?”

“I believe I do.” She bent over to retrieve a cash box from the bottom drawer of her desk while looking up at me, offering a full view of her chest. This time, I knew this was no accident. This woman was coming on to me.

She handed me the change. Her blouse was wide open down the middle of her cleavage. I reached for the fifty dollars, taking her hand instead. There was no resistance as she stepped closer to me. I could feel myself becoming aroused. Our bodies were inches away from one another. I reached out and finished unbuttoning her blouse exposing her tits. Her skin was pale, her nipples were small and bright pink.

We didn’t say a word to one another. Her arms stretched out and around me, bringing me closer, hugging me. It was then that I saw how young she was, maybe in her late twenties. I was wearing a dress and could feel her hands reaching for the zipper. The familiar sensation of the air hitting my back as she opened my dress made my nipples erect. I took her by the arms and steered her to the top of her desk.

Her blouse fell open, and I started to suck her nipples. She responded with a long, quiet moan. I turned her over so I could have access to the zipper on the back of her slacks. My hand moved, pulling the zipper down and unfastening the clasp at the waistband. As I pulled down her pants, I was surprised, that a woman her age was wearing what I call, granny-panties. I yanked them to the floor showing off a milk-white ass. It was perfect.

She stood on her toes and said, “Please make me feel loved. I want to feel like a woman again.”

I didn’t know her and didn’t understand why she was saying that. My assumption was she was ignored by her spouse. From experience, I knew what she wanted. I knelt behind her, spread her legs, and started to taste her pussy. She put her head down into her arms and whimpered. Her body started to shiver. I held her hips tight in place.

Her breathing was fast. I knew she was coming. “Jesus Christ, that feels wonderful. Don’t stop, Oh God, please don’t stop.”

Then she became still, lying face down on her desk. I stood and lifted her and turned her toward me. Her eyes were red and watery as if she was crying. My dress had fallen to the ground. I stood before her in a lace thong, I wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Now me,” was all I said.

In a single motion, I pulled off my saturated thong and sat down in the chair at her desk. I brought her onto her knees. My legs opened, exposing my pussy.

As she knelt before me, she said, “I’ve never done this before; I’m a virgin.”

I wasn’t surprised. “It’s okay, just do what you feel is natural. I’ll guide you.”

She lowered her head and started to imitate what I had done. I helped her along by spreading myself open. My clit started to become erect. She ran her tongue over it, and I flinched. Her head lifted momentarily, then she started to suck, finding a rhythm that was quite pleasing.

I started to build up. “That is perfect. Just like that. You’ve found it.”

Then, the door swung open. A very large nun in a full black habit appeared in the room.

“Sister Catharine! What in heaven's name are you doing?”

My shock must have been obvious. I couldn’t believe she was ‘Sister Catharine,’ a nun. I sat in a state of shock. I just sucked a nun’s pussy. I don’t believe in heaven and hell, but, if there is a hell, I just secured a seat on a nonstop flight there.

She stood, her blouse still hanging open with no pants on. She was fully exposed to our intruder. I was still in the chair, completely nude. I didn’t move.

“Mother Superior, I couldn’t help myself. This woman came in for a mass card and seduced me.”

She lied! Instead of admitting what she had done, this woman of God outright lied. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. What was she going to say? I am a young woman with urges that need to be unleashed. I don’t think that would have gone over well.

The old nun looked at me and yelled, “Get out of here right now before I call the police!”

I stood and reached for my dress on the floor. I slipped it back on, not saying a word.

Sister Catharine looked at me. I knew she was in trouble. Her eyes told the story. I have no idea what she would be in for. My leather jacket was lying on a chair near the door. As I was heading toward the door, I realized that I left the mass card on the desk. I turned to go back for it.

Mother Superior wasn’t allowing it. “I said get out! You’ve sinned. This woman of God has been ruined. You’ve forced her to break her vow of celibacy.”

I left the card and quickly walked out the door. I could hear the old nun giving Sister Catharine a stern lecture. That was quite an experience.

No mass card, I’m out fifty dollars, and worst of all, no orgasm. We were interrupted before I finished. At this point, there was only one thing to do. Go back to the Elmwood Inn and have a drink and see if I can get in some trouble there.