in Sister Bernice's cunt, and Sister Bernice knew enough to take the hint. She slipped her finger up the mother superior's cunt to the hilt.
Both she and Sister Francine stared straight ahead, their arms moving slowly as they fingerfucked each other in the darkness of the back seat. Prom time, to time, Sister Bernice caught sight of the cabbie's eyes in the rearview mirror. She wondered if he was aware of what was happening in the back seat of his taxi – two nuns jerking fingers in and out of each other's crotches. The heater hummed in the front of the cab, blowing in fresh warm air and keeping the windows free of condensation, but despite the fresh incoming air, the taxi was beginning to fill with the aroma of steaming cunt.
Sister Francine slipped her finger out of Sister Bernice's cunt and she quickly slipped the dripping finger into her mouth, sucking off the cuntjuices. Sister Bernice glanced at her with disbelief and revulsion. Sister Francine smiled vaguely in the near-darkness and took Sister Bernice's hand. She nodded slightly, and Sister Bernice got the message. Sister Bernice pulled her finger out of the older nun's cunt and tasted the woman's pussyjuice – tart, acidic, slightly sweet.
Lord, what am I doing? Sister Bernice asked herself as she swallowed the another superior's pussycream. What have I done? She knew that this was just the beginning. When they got to the prison, she would be expected to get down on her knees and to eat out the older nun. She'd heard rumors of lesbianism in the sisterhood, but until now she'd always dismissed them as just that – rumors. Well, maybe she could learn to tolerate it. Maybe doing a little cunt-sucking was worth the opportunity to see her brother again, to forgive him for what he'd done to her, and to ask his forgiveness for testifying against him and having him sent to prison. Surely what he'd done wasn't worth five years… especially since she'd enjoyed it toward the end. It nagged at her continually that she actually had taken pleasure in the rape once it had gotten underway. Her guilt and embarrassment had been overwhelming when her mother had discovered her whining and bleeding and defiled under her grunting brother. She'd had no choice but to scream rape and to have her brother put away. But her guilt at having incarcerated her brother was worse than any guilt she'd felt as a result of the rape, and even entering the sisterhood and pledging her life to God had done nothing to ease it. She needed her brother's forgiveness.
Sister Bernice was aware that her finger was back inside Sister Francine's cunt and that Sister Francine's finger was back inside her own cunt. They fingerfucked in unison, to the same rhythm, matching the rhythmic thudding of the windshield wipers. Their fingers made soft, squishing sounds in their juicy cunts, and Sister Bernice flushed hot with embarrassment, grateful for the darkness, grateful that the young cabbie couldn't see the color in her cheeks.
They finger fucked faster, twice as fast as the windshield wipers were flying. Their fingers slid in deeper, twisting, probing the sensitive pussy flesh. Sister Bernice's hard clit wriggled between her swollen cuntlips. She felt like squeezing her legs together. The filing of the older nun's finger inside her cunt was making her grimace with pained pleasure.
Faster their fingers plunged, deeper, harder. Sister Francine was panting audibly, and Sister Bernice became aware of her own breath coming heavily from her nostrils and between her parted lips. Sister Bernice rubbed her ass against the seat, squirmed and began to hump gently against the mother superior's jerking hand. She saw the cabbie's glaring eyes in the rear-view mirror, but she didn't care, didn't care if he knew or what he thought. All that mattered in the world was that she climax.
Sister Francine gasped softly, shivered. Her hand vibrated against Sister Bernice's spread pussylips and her finger quivered inside her. Sister Bernice twisted her finger almost savagely inside the older woman's clutching pussyhole. Sister Francine's cunt walls shuddered, vibrated and sucked hard. Hot juice ran into Sister Bernice's hand.
She's coming, Sister Bernice told herself. She ground her hand between the mother superior's sizzling pussylips, and felt the sucking cuntmeat, felt the slippery fuck juice. The vibrations of the older nun's orgasm passed in waves through Sister Bernice's arm and entered her own body. As the vibrations flowed into her cunt, they joined with the vibrations that shot from Sister Francine's pumping finger and caused her own cunt to spark and explode with spasms.
She grunted, letting go, jerking her ass and grinding her naked crotch against Sister Francine's groping hand. The tingling orgasmic sensations flooded her loins, and they streamed in waves through her arms and legs.
'Ahhhh!' Sister Bernice sighed softly. 'Ohhhh!'
The cabbie caught himself just in time, cut the wheel sharply to the left, and steered the taxi back off the gravel shoulder and onto the asphalt. His heart slipped out of his throat, where it had jumped momentarily, and hammered in his chest. Christ! Almost got us all killed, he thought. It would have served the two cunts right, though, distracting him that way. Christ, if he hadn't seen it and heard it with his own eyes and ears, he never would have believed it – two nuns fingerfucking each other in the back seat of his taxi, two lezzies. Jesus Christ! He was going to have some hot stories to tell back in town… not that any of the guys would believe him. Jesus Christ!
The cabbie's prick throbbed in his jeans, felt as if it were being strangulated. Glancing quickly in the rear- view mirror to make sure the nuns weren't watching him – they were both looking sideways now, each out her own window – he unzipped his jeans slowly and eased his ramrod fucker out into the air. It was sweaty, hot, leaking fucklube. His balls felt as if they were going to burst. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he started to jack off with his other hand, moving his foreskin up and down over his glowing prickhead. Damn he was hot! He could smell his prick. Smelled like sex. If it weren't for the reeking stench of cunt in the cab, the nuns would be able to smell his cock in the back seat.
So what, though, he thought. They'd probably get off on knowing he was jerking off up here. Dirty bitches!
His fingers worked the foreskin rapidly over his mist prickhead. The veins on his cock bulged, his cockshaft vibrating with the excitement and pleasure shooting through it. Damn if he wasn't a stud! He ought to pull over and take care of those juicy cunts in the back seat right now, ram his horny cock up their crotches and fuck their guts out. He could fuck their little assholes, too. Then he'd shove his shit smelling fucker down their throats and choke them half to death before he blasted his boiling load down their gullets. Man, that would feel so fucking good.
He had to grip the wheel with all his strength to keep the taxi on the rain-blasted road. His vision blurred and he chewed his lips as the jism spurted out of him, some of the hot stuff hitting his chin, the rest of it sticking in white strands to his denim jacket. He gripped his cock with his entire hand now, crushing the itchy heat out of it, milking the cum out of it as fast as he could.
Keep it on the road, he kept telling himself throughout his orgasm. Watch where you're going, damn it!
A half hour later the cabbie pulled up in front of the steel-barred gate at the bottom of the drive that led up to St. Michael's Reformatory. As lightning flashed, he could see the castle-like outline of the two-story, red-brick building in the distance. Turrets, like huge erect cocks, projected from the building on both sides. As soon as he delivered the nuns up there, he was going to get the fuck out of this place, maybe find a roadside bar somewhere – although he'd seen none along the way up here – and warm himself up with a few drinks.
As the taxi stood idling in the relentless downpour, as they sat waiting for the gatekeeper to leave the small brick guardhouse and let them in, the cabbie pitied the poor studs who were imprisoned in that House of Usher up above. St. Michael's had gained a reputation around the state as the Alcatraz of teens schools. Never an escape. And a few of the inmates who had finally been released had complained of torture and inhuman conditions. Nobody listened to them though, because the place was run by nuns, and nobody would believe nuns were capable of such atrocities as the former inmates had described. But one look at the prison was enough to convince the cabbie that there was some truth to the stories. And those nuns he had in the back seat now weren't any saints, either.
A slim, agile-moving nun ran from the door of the gatehouse and stood behind the bars of the gate, shielding her eyes from the headlights as she unlocked it. From what features he could see, the cabbie guessed that the nun was quite young, younger than any nun he'd seen before. The older nun in the back seat of the taxi rolled down her window and poked her head out into the rain.
'I have returned, Sister Raphael,' the older nun shouted. 'Open up quickly and return to your post before you're drenched. The taxi will be coming back directly, so you may leave the gate open until it departs.'
The nun at the gate waved and allowed them to pass through.
