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Tarzan Jr. Makes His Bones Chapter 2

"Sister Monique watched Tarzan Jr. hold her French undies under his nostrils and inhale her scent."

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CHAPTER 2

(Tarzan Jr. meets Sister Monique and Sister Heidimarie in Johannesburg)

 

The muscular Adam Smith aka Tarzan Jr. walked in front of Sister Monique and Sister Heidimarie up the spiral staircase to the rooftop hideaway along with “Jane” the dark-skinned nubile companion he had come to cherish like a pleasing bed-mate with no holds barred when it came to horizontal gymnastics.

The two nuns had very different thoughts as they walked behind the animal-like haunches of the stalking Tarzan Jr. pumping with the strength of a squad of men ready to do battle with any foe dense enough to confront him in a passage of arms and ultimate testing in the struggle of survival in a white man’s world away from the singleness of purpose out in a territory where predators roamed like champions in the game of life and death.

Tarzan Jr. knew that game well and he was the best fighter in the best species in the jungle. His two-legged approach to the kill was his signature and his piercing cry of victory struck fear in even the most aggressive of the jungle creatures.

Sister Monique was fully aware of her damp feminine folds running with her shameful excitement about the possibility of taking the jungle boy into her vaginal channel. In her mind, she saw him as a thief in the night with desires of stretching her and making her beg for more despite her much-regretted vows of chastity. She would be the first to admit that she had made them with the intent to keep her secret garden sanctified and off-limits to masculine touch, but that was before she had met Adam Smith and seen the bulk of his equipment coiled inside his trousers ready to be unfurled and flung up the flag pole of her quivering inner legs.

The two nuns with naughty needs of their own outside the strict vows of the cloistered order were wallowing in the freedom of movement in the depraved world around them. They maintained their phony face of sweetness and light and the fires of passion and lust burned brightly in their bellies. It was true that they had managed to keep their sinful interaction with the general public at a minimum because they were able to stoke each other’s carnal fires in the privacy of their nocturnal sleeping quarters.

Sister Monique was generally less satisfied with that solution than Sister Heidimarie because she had the greater yen for masculine arms around her and to experience the muscular control that would force her to take it all no matter how dirty or depraved. She was conflicted by her two masters, the angel that bade her do good no matter how unpleasant and demanding and the little evil devil that pushed her down lower and lower into the filth of devious human need for depravity of the worst kind imaginable. Even now, she could not tear her sinful eyes away from Tarzan Jr.’s oversized package and she resented the look of jealousy from the dirty creature he called “Jane” from some interior hell-hole that bred only submissive females with obedience as their primary asset in a life that used females like chattel on the selling block. Of course, she understood that this Jane person was dangerous because of the way she carried herself in a constant stalking mode ready to strike down any danger to her master, Tarzan Jr.

Sister Heidimarie had been sipping from a little silver flask all day long and by now she was almost stumbling up the stairs like some drunken sailor in a house of ill repute looking for some juicy sex in the afternoon. She was ready to jump onboard anyone with a yen for carnal action and she didn’t care if it was male, female or anything in between.

Jane recognized that fever of lust that commandeered every movement by Sister Heidimarie and she was fully prepared to sacrifice her body to assuage her needs even at the risk of losing her immortal soul. In fact, she was a bit curious about such an odd task because the instinct for heterosexual linkage was the ruler of her naughty urges. The thought of giving up her innermost secrets to the sinfully white blond was enough to set off her female juice production cycle and she knew that she would need a hard humping to drive the devils of lust and evil depravity from her system. Her strong hands reached out to cup the white nun’s robe-covered posterior sitting like some vase of passion with her wishing to drink from the well of devil-inspired cupidity.

Sister Heidimarie was inflamed with lust for the dark-skinned beauty.

She had never sampled such a creature before and she was curious about the sensation of taking the girl between her legs and showing her the path to perdition. Heidimarie silently said a prayer of contrition for the sin she was about to commit, knowing there was no way her weak free will would ever allow her to pass up the opportunity. She allowed the locally raised girl to remove all her clothing and take charge of her pale white flesh like some offering at a secret auction block immersed in the whirlpool of jungle fever. In a way, she treasured being the victim in the exchange because it made her more excited than she had ever felt before.

Sister Monique saw that her religious companion was otherwise engaged with the nubile African girl and seized the opportunity by faking a sudden faint right in front of Tarzan Jr.

The muscular jungle man lifted her up in his arms like some God of lust and passion and delivered her to the soft yielding folds of the white sheets recently washed, ironed and prepared by a bevy of bright-eyed darlings to each and every room of nocturnal carnal tableaus. He loosened her clothing and stripped her down to her French undies and her soft cotton breast gloves that allowed her nipples to extend like little signals of feminine heat rising.

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Tarzan Jr., being a young lad with extensive love-making experience, did not miss this obvious signal and he decided to be a gentleman and give the needy nun her afternoon humping like a baby begging for a bottle right on cue. His hand dropped to the furry patch of black on her pale white background. He had not poked many white females because they were in short supply in his neck of the jungle but he understood that females everywhere had the same basic equipment and the same desires and needs, only some were filthier than others in their fantasies of love and lust. He liked them all from the most shy and innocent to the rowdiest and lewd ladies of the night.

His “Jane” was all things to him because she was able to adjust her reactions to his needs of the moment. She could be the shy young thing with reluctance to lower her undies or she could be the aggressor and pin him down under her weight to capture his shaft inside her tunnel like some hussy seeking something new and exciting. He was somewhat attached to her but he comprehended that it was a subtle thing and not his discovery of a soul mate or anything as earth-shattering as that sort of event.

Sister Monique was quite comfortable on the fluffy white comforter and she twisted and turned every which way but up, knowing that the jungle adventurer was watching her every move. She hoped that her French undies were all crushed up in her ass gap and that her bare white cheeks would prove too defenseless for the exciting long-haired man to pass up.

Her hopes quickly changed to fears as she felt his weight drop down with authority on her sturdy spine and his business started to find its way up into her narrow crack like some nasty snake with serious intent. She spread her knees wide and raised her hips so her ass was at a good angle for Tarzan Jr. to penetrate her to the maximum.

It was a relief that her companion, Sister Heidemarie, was otherwise occupied with the up close and personal interaction with the pretty nubile Nubian from the uncertain interior country because it meant she would not be carrying tales back to the convent about her terrible fall from grace. Sister Monique was already plotting out how she would word her confession to the next priest to grant her absolution so that her complicity would not seem so devilishly naughty and unacceptable for a nun under a vow of chastity. She liked the direction of attempting to establish a firm contact with the subject in a way that would ensure his cooperation with the Order’s directives on finding additional funding for their expansion. They had certain connections with his father’s estate that she was not fully informed about but she understood their concern that the young heir return immediately to assume control of the estate and vouch for their solvency.

Right now, the searching bullet head that was making a nice purchase inside her rear vaginal entryway had all her attention and she knew her fine spray of feminine juices helped smooth the way up her vaginal highway like grease on the wheels of lust. Finally, the young white-skinned African native with the muscles of a wrestler pinned her down in a face-down prone bone position and she was unable to move a single muscle without his permission. His business was at maximum penetration depth and she knew a moment of fear that he might find an additional inch or two to stretch her even more firmly. It was merely a moment of panic and she calmed down as he started that familiar pounding tempo that she loved so well. Her female juices were in full glory and she did her best to disregard entirely the naughty sounds of Sister Heidimarie and the excited “Jane” of the jungle hissing like a feral cat scratching and clawing her way to that tingle she desired more than life itself.

The naughty nun took everything that Tarzan Jr. made her take and she didn’t flinch in the slightest when he threw back his long-haired head and bellowed out his pleasure as he filled her with his jungle juice of heavily seeded emission in a way that she would remember for a very long time. Her vaginal cavity was filled to the brim and she knew it was the sort of fullness that she valued more than the finest wine ever produced and blessed by an ordained priest.

The next morning, both religious ladies took breakfast in the hotel dining room and Sister Monique watched her companion slowly lick the stray butter from her fingers not unlike she had been tending to “Jane’s” wayward juices in the darkened hotel bedroom suite in the privacy of midnight naughtiness that guided her every thought, word and deed. She knew that it would be impossible to criticize Heidimarie for her shameful actions when she was guilty of far worse with the man from the escarpment riding her proud hips like a true master of female flesh.

They were scheduled to meet at the lawyer’s office with Adam Smith aka Tarzan Jr. along with his trio of lawyers to arrange his takeover of the estate in England and the chain of businesses that constituted the jungle empire. Sister Monique was tired because she had been asked by her friend Sister Heidimarie to console her about the lack of fidelity in “Jane” to the thought of a female-to-female relationship despite her absolute devotion to the dark-skinned girl’s following in the way of a committed soul-mate forever. Apparently, that was not on the African girl’s agenda at the moment because she was totally devoted to pleasing Tarzan Jr. and making his nocturnal hours as pleasant as possible.

It was beginning to look like the only way they could convince Tarzan Jr. to make the long sea voyage to England was to bring Jane with them to entertain his every whim.            

 

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Written by 3FingerKelly
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