I, some how, made it through the day and back home. I stripped down and started reading my favorite erotica and felt my nipples get hard, my juices st...rted to flow. But I wasn't in the mood to finish quickly tonight, I teased myself. Long slow stroke of my fingers, purposefully avoiding my clit, waiting until I was soaking wet to even insert one finger. But one wasn't enough, I needed more, needed to feel stretched. I jumped to three fingers, loving the way my outer lips strained just a little. A few months after the funeral, my mother started walking around the house in very sexy outfits, ones that I didn't even know she owned. I just kinda shrugged it off as a strange way of dealing with her loss. Then, a couple months went by, and not only was she still wearing the sexy outfits, but she started rubbing against me and bending over to pick things up way too often to be explained by clumsiness; which my mother has never suffered from. I started to wonder if I was being hit on by my. Sally was snuggled up behind her, pressing her own warm breasts to her back. When the younger woman realized that Sam was awake, she slid her hands off of her breasts and under her arms, wiggling her fingers."Sally!" Sam screamed as the fingers tickled her underarms. She squirmed away, flipping over and began to tickle her. A second later they were rollicking on the bed like two adolescent girls. They rolled around and gasped for breath as they giggled. Their gyrations tore the sheets from the. And then the study door burst open and the Mother Superior stood there, her face a twisted mask of hatred, anger and, possibly, jealousy. "Whore!" she screamed at me. "Slut! Daughter of Eve!" and the next thing I knew she'd almost run across the room and, grabbing my hair, hauled me off the Father."What?" I gasped confused. "I... I don't understand. What's wrong?"By now the MS had used some rope to bind my unresisting hands behind my back and the Father had pulled his cassock back on again. "My.