They seemed to point out a bit. They were round and full even if not overly large, and they were mounted high on her chest. Their firmness meant they ...ould probably never sag a bit unless they grew a lot more in the future. The areoles were now a dark tan color. Her nipples didn't seem to get very hard. The nipples were small and not defined very much.We continued to kiss as I slid one hand down to her puss. It was soft and fleshy and it made me hard as a rock thinking how I was about to dip. It all started a few years back. Sister Pamfry, then known as Catharine Pamfry, had just become a nun after throwing away her life of greed and deception. She came to the newly built St. Joan of Arc Nunnery in Domrémy, France. It was a big change from her life in America. The other nuns there took her in as their own and she hadn’t looked back since. A year later, a new Cardinal Bishop had been placed at the nunnery. At the age of 40, he was the youngest that had ever been elected. Sister. Balmy, I thought as I prepared for my evening walk. The previous evening, the temperature had hovered around zero. The cold alone would not have deterred me, but a walk had just not been possible. I put on my coat, boots, gloves, and hat and then headed out the door.The crisp, fresh air hit me full in the face. The snow that had fallen the night before lay like a fluffy blanket on the ground. A squirrel hopped from branch to branch as clouds of snow followed his movements. I noticed that the. He pressed the ball into her pussy as he began to gyrate into her clit, feeling her pressing down into his had without any hesitation or pretense, grinding against him. Just as he had slid it inside of her, her orgasm wracked her body and forced it back out. He picked it up and set it down on the pillow in front of her.“One down, two to go. Then you’re all mine, and its all your fault.” He told her right at her ear, his voice cementing in her mind that all of this was not only her doing, but.