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"So you like that, huh?" she asked rhetorically.
"Yes," he cried with mild shame, his eyes watering.
"You liked being dominated by a nun, didn't you?"
"Yes!" he shouted this time.
"The great Godkiller himself, the man who's ending religion gets off on it, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, yes, just please fuck me!" She shot her head back aghast but checked his cock. Indeed, it was rock hard and by the gobs peaking from the head, eager to enter her pussy.
"I don't think so..."
"What?!"
"Why that would be giving you exactly what you want, wouldn't it? That's not the fun of this."
"But this is just a game! We're only supposed to pretend a little..." he whimpered.
"I don't know where you got that impression, but it's simply not true. If you think you're cumming from me, you're sadly mistaken..." she trailed off, standing up off the bed.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!"
"Oh no Mr. Godkiller," she began as she climbed back upon the bed, this time with her knees. "With just some of your logic formulas or whatever, you're going to destroy so much of human progress," she straddled her draped legs and sleeved arms above him as she stared lecherously. "Civilizations overextend and collapse on the inside, or get invaded by outsiders. Diseases make people abandon entire cities," she continued softly as she crawled closer to his face. "Lots of times people blame their various Gods for such bad luck. Some blame Christianity for the Romans, or German and Scandinavian pagans, and archeologists believe some Mesoamerican diseases made the people think the land was bad luck or some such nonsense," she stopped crawling atop him and labored to stand without tripping on her habit. "And now we have you to thank—at least it won't happen to us because we know that's bullshit," she stood firmly above, looking down upon him. He smiled uneasily at her ambiguous praise but was increasingly discomforted by her posture.
"You've caused some domage, but you haven't destroyed our civilization, Godkiller," she bunched her skirt at the hips, raising it inch by inch, "you'll keep it alive!" she threw up her skirt, bearing her naked legs and muff, turned around to face the other direction, and crashed her soft ass upon his chest, her habit enveloping his head and forcing him to inhale the stale heat of her ass and musky pussy underneath.
Having but momentarily achieved a comfortable breathing rhythm, the surroundings were not welcomed by his lungs. The handcuffs clanked up and down the metal bars as his arms and legs writhed vainly to repel the sister who, despite these efforts, remained firmly on his chest, her asshole merely inches from his mouth. He felt slight vibrations and his ears could faintly hear her voice through her clothes, so he knew she was saying something even if he had the no clue what it was. His frenzied state however refused to pay her words any mind and so he was totally surprised when her hands grasped his thighs and her hairy pussy scratched up his chest until his nose touched firmly upon her taint, filling his nose with her sweaty salty musk. Desperate for all the breath he could manage, he inhaled deeply and poorly, trying to convince himself that the smell was offensive and not one making his cock throb. The sister knew exactly how he felt as her right hand wrapped around the pulsing meter that gave every indication she should continue despite his protests. She slid closer, pressing her taint harder against his mouth and nose.
Yusef surprised himself when his tongue protruded, mingling the sweat pouring from his brow with hers as it slid up and down, seeking either source of the thick musk that surrounded him. He relaxed his legs and, though he dramatically struggled to free his hands, he longed to grab her tightly and press her harder upon him rather than throw her off. The sister smiled pleasantly at sensation and obvious enthusiasm his tongue had for her dripping cunt, even if it meant he was actually enjoying the treatment, and raised her hips so her hairy pussy turned downwards and hovered just above Yusef's eager mouth. Using smell alone in the deep darkness, he knew her pussy had been wet and eager for quite some time, perhaps even before she stepped into the room. She swung gently from side to side, dangling her sex like a nectarous fruit out of reach. He raised his neck to her pussy and licked it once top to bottom with the tip of his salivating tongue, drawing a pleased shiver from the recipient.
They continued like this for a minute, her swaying, his periodic single stroke licking to entice her down, until her sweet pussy slowly lowered. Yusef's drinking mouth gaped open and sealed over it as his tongue furiously suckled her delicious fruit.
"Oh, yeah..." he could vaguely hear her moan, encouraging him to double his efforts. "Oh, God..." her accent faltered, "Oh, gawwwwd!" she recovered it, weighing her pussy down farther each time he tongued her correctly. Like a river her juice flowed down his probing mouth muscle. Every taste bud was used, overwhelming his mouth with flavor, and produced matching levels of sticky saliva. His nose, pressed firmly upon her lower pussy, inhaled every odor her aroused body produced as the drenched hair atop it cushioned and enabled the thick air to circulate, cooling her hot flesh underneath with each desperately fierce inhalation. It was a great struggle to breathe and eat her magnificent pussy, but somehow Yusef managed to rock the middle aged nun to orgasm in five minutes, making her press even firmer and suffocating him. Stifled completely, Yusef abandoned his caution and continued to madly devour her cunt before she could take it away and expose him to the life-giving but cold world outside her habit.
"Yesssss!" she shouted as she stiffly ground her hips into his face, scratching him with her wet but coarse mat. A second orgasm followed unbeknownst to Yusef who contentedly munched away. Her breathing slowed and without ado she hopped off the bed, taking the warm wet air with her. Already collected, she produced the key to his cuffs and undid them, drawing a tired and glossy puppy eyed pout from the man drenched in her juices. She looked to his cock, disappointed to see it was lazily resting upon his thigh.
"It's aroused," Yusef answered her unasked question, "it just needs something new and it'll spring to life in three seconds," he finished wearily but clearly eager for more.
"Good," her smile returned. But rather than return to his cock, she retrieved her shoes, stepped to the door, and closed it behind her without saying a word. Standing in the hallway against the door, she adjusted her habit and winked to fellow sister to her right. "He's ready." As she left the door, enabling the younger one to step into the room, the elder nun nodded knowingly to the row of eager sisters patiently standing in line. Though inexperienced with men, they knew he could not fuck the dozen of them in one swing. They agreed to give him a few hours rest after the sixth one before the assembly line resumed. And, if that failed, they could always hold him until morning. The police would not be able to make anything stick since men seldom admitted rape by women, and besides, they were nuns for Christ's sake.
* * * * * * * * * *
Tina's eyes listlessly scanned the shelves at her local Barnes & Noble, hoping to merely stumble upon the name for which she searched. The philosophy section was, as many of her failed students might claim, rightly placed beside the doorway to the bathrooms where bodily waste was excreted by the lifer caffeine fiends who ate too many biscotti and bran muffins. This attitude had most certainly changed in the year since Yusef's book was published. The so called "mental waste" presently had a handsome and immortally important front man and the number of declared philosophy majors in the US alone quadrupled in the past two semesters.
When Tina's eyes came to the "M"s, her mind sighed as she saw three rows of Yusef's book, nearly a third of one case. Despite philosophy's surge in popularity, it seemed people merely wanted to study Yusef. She plucked out a thick paperback and read the front cover. One could deduce the readership of an author almost solely by the presentation. Yusef's name was stated dramatically in a red, bold, and raised font easily occupying one third of the space available. "New York Times #1 Bestseller" and the obstructionist B&N sticker took roughly a quarter more. Another quarter bore the name "Dr. Y. Muhammad" and beneath all this flair was a modest white background. The whole thing resembled a Stephen King novel but without the deus ex machina sketched on the front.
She flipped the book open, shaking her head amazedly that this one, now in its third edition, had sold more personal copies in just one year than any version of the Bible (excepting the Gideons) had in centuries. Many of those were repeat buyers eager for whatever new anecdotes, insights, corrections, and clarifications "Dr. Muhammad" (as he preferred to be called now) offered them. Many of those same people chose, however tongue in cheek at first, to abolish the revisionist year term "Common Era" in favor of A.G., "After Godkiller." The year of his discovery was dated 1 B.G., "Before Godkiller," thus making the year it was published as year 0 (zero) A.G.
Nit-pickers continued complaining well after the year 2000 that the millennium occurred in 2001 since there was no year zero in the Christian Calendar. This argument had always dissatisfied Tina because the act of counting to 1 was essentially counting the whole between zero and one just as 2 was counting the whole between one and two. So how could one travel from a "negative" year like 1 B.G. to the "positive" 1 A.G.? And furthermore, unless the globe simultaneously recognized the significance of Christ's birth, which scholarship concluded was actually a few years earlier than 1 A.D., there were no years 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and continuing. It could only have been after the fact, when other calendars were abandoned, that these year numbers existed.
The back of the book was of course filled with praise from peers, pundits, and even a prominent televangelist proclaiming that anyone simply reading the introduction will be "forever changed." She closed the book and replaced it into one of the many open slots remaining from purchased books and walked to the exit, passing a table lined with yet more copies of his book, these complete with gilded edges and built-in cloth bookmarks. The usual lunch time rush of university students waited in line. Tina quickly glanced and saw at least two of them eagerly holding copies, then spouted a depleted chuckle from her worn mouth. It seemed the world, or at least the people on it who relied upon the assumptions of God and the spiritual, was not ending with a whimper after all, but rather the chimes of cash registers selling his book in over 60 languages.
Tina re-entered the February chill. The minutes inside the well heated store gave her a glow that nearly froze on contact with the subzero temperatures. The moment she turned her Nissan's ignition, the heater kicked in and steadily warmed the weightily frigid air. She drove for nearly a mile before it was even tolerantly warm but she still shivered. Rather than take her turn-off back to school, she swung right towards Yusef's new neighborhood. She parked in front of a modern 10 story condominium and put enough change in her meter for an hour. Though Yusef and the publisher who forfeited most of their potential profits to him just to publish the book were uber-wealthy following even just the first few weeks of sales, Yusef, perhaps out of newfound laziness, a love of the campus, or both, had simply moved to the ritziest place within a mile of his office.
Real wood paneled the tenth floor's walls and an uncut oriental style rug centered along the floor. The price of quality wood flooring and the rug atop it made a statement of affluence greater than the now standard wall to wall carpets that could cover half the world. With most of its residents, mainly college professors and the University of Minnesota's nostalgic (and wealthy) graduates at work, all but one door, the one she sought, seemed quiet.
She pensively knocked, imagining who would answer and in what condition they would be. The chatter inside ceased but no one answered so she knocked again. The door opened but the chain caught it, giving a couple inches for the shadow of a young person to view through.
"Yes?" a woman with an accent trembled through the crack.
"Hi," Tina smiled to calm her, "I'm Yusef's friend, Tina." she explained casually. The girl was visibly taken aback by her simple address of Dr. Muhammad as "Yusef."
"Um..." she bit her bottom lip and looked behind her, "What's your business?" her accent was clearer now. Tina narrowed it down to a Slavic one.
"I'm paying a visit."
"Oh, right...um..." she looked behind her again and spoke in Russian, to which received a reply also in Russian. The other one seemed louder and more authoritative, probably yelling or giving instructions to the one craning her neck to speak without showing herself.
"What's going on out there? Who's there?" a groggy male voice chimed in.
"Named Tina there's a woman at the door Doctor!" the aggressive one replied.
"Well let her in then!" The one behind the door looked reluctantly to Tina, closed it so she could dislocate the chain, and slowly opened it, careful to keep herself on the other side as she stepped back into the wall. Tina casually walked in and scanned the living room. Along with empty pizza boxes and liquor bottles, it reeked of stale beer and the smell of freshly opened latex condoms.
"Welcome," a nude blonde girl greeted her with a friendly smile. Seemingly oblivious to her nakedness, she casually stood, resting her weight upon one leg while her other bent slightly at the knee. The door swiftly closed, revealing the girl who answered the door. Like the other blonde, she was nude but, bending her knees together and hugging her body with her shoulders, hopelessly seemed to wish Tina would neglect to notice her. Quite the opposite happened—she realized the Russians had to be sisters close in age if not identical twins.
"Tina!" Yusef's voice shouted from his bedroom. The aggressive one stepped out of the path and pointed her arm to the bedroom, making her pert breasts jiggle slightly. "He's all yours, but we wore him all out!" she laughed. Tina, long since used to these encounters since Yusef returned from his book tour in October of last year, smiled politely and walked to the bedroom where Yusef sat upon his bed and stared lazily at the space behind Tina. A Korean student lay passed out and sprawled on the other half, her shaven pussy with its prominent labia shining from lubricant and saliva displayed for all the world.
"Hey buddy," Tina began casually. "How ya feeling?" Yusef grasped his head and groaned. His hair was nearly shoulder length and unkempt despite his curls.
"I know why there are so many different kinds of alcohol. Every time you've a bad experience with...with" his right hand circled, searching for the right words, "...one particular kind, and permanently link it with that horrible moment, there are literally volumes of other liquors to choose from that won't remind you!" he coughed as he laughed at his little joke, but quickly grasped his aching head again.
"So not too well?"
"Huh?" he asked, forgetting her first question. He vigorously rubbed his face and released a groan through his nose. His cheeks trembling beneath his stubble and his body quaking, it appeared he was stretching his muscles as if recovering from a work out. Seeming to lack the energy to support his head, he drooped it, stared blankly at the exposed woman next to him, and looked casually back to Tina. "So what's up?"
"I had to cover your class again."
"Oh, thanks, 'preciate it," he drawled as he sat up against the headboard.
"That's the fifth time this semester," she reminded him with a hint of irritation.
"And I appreciate it."
"You know, you only have one class. You're getting paid a shit load more than anyone else and you have only one class to teach now so the least you can do is show up."
"Huh?"
"Have you even made a lesson plan?"
"What's up your butt?"
Tina considered herself a composed, on top of things woman. When he went on tour and neglected to call all but once, she defended him to her girl friends even as her divorce spiraled onward. When he ditched class like a super Senior just three credits from graduation so he could stay in his condo and fuck Russian twins and an East Asian floozy in a binge of booze, she excused it as simply the transition from touring life to the every day. But his pace only seemed to accelerate downward—something he failed to realize. This, as far as she saw it, was the worst thing of all.
"Get your fucking act together! This isn't healthy! You're like some fuckin' junkie rock star with a one hit wonder!" she spat, finally losing her composure. He jerked his head back amazedly as if woken from a daze, and looked questioningly at her.
"What are you talking about?"
"This!" she pointed to the naked woman whose breathing became faster and shallower, preparing her body to enter the waking world at the early hour of one in the afternoon. "Those!" she pointed to the empty and nearly empty liquor bottles strewn randomly around the room like it was the set of some after-school special or "very special episode" about the dangers of alcohol. "If you just stopped listening to those girls' praise about how brilliant you are, you might realize it means something else!"
"Like what?"
"That it's not just a way to get your cock sucked by girls two thirds your age. I'm a woman, and your colleague, but more importantly, I'm a friend and," she stepped to him and grasped his hand, "I love you too much to let you ruin yourself or let your talents go to waste." She blurted, admitting her attraction.
"Love?"
"Yes, Yusef. You have no idea how much it hurts me to watch you do this. Before your formula you wondered about your responsibility to the world, and whether you should even drop this bombshell in the first place."
"Yes, I remember. I was worried the world would destroy itself."
"And it hasn't, and it won't, or at least not because of this. The world is doing just fine, its you I'm worried about. I love you Yusef, and you're too smart for this to happen," her eyes teared as she looked pleadingly with him. Yusef stared into her eyes and quickly broke out into fitful tears that fell upon the soiled bedsheets. She lunged forward and hugged him as he cried more onto her shoulder, his arms slowly wrapping around her back.
The naked girl beside them resumed deep breaths. She turned onto her side and refreshed her mouth with quiet lip smacks.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Here you are," the waitress smiled pleasantly as she set two filled plates onto the table. Ellen and Mary Beth reciprocated as they looked directly into her large brown eyes. "Just holler if you need anything else, 'kay?"
"Oh we will," Mary Beth smiled as the server walked away, her hips bouncing with each step, showing her bear tracks lower-back tattoo. Mary Beth faced Ellen and raised a suggestive brow. "What do you thank'a her? Not too thin, blonde, decent breasts, maybe braces in Junior High?" Ellen laughed back.
"Whoever said teeth were important? As long as they're not really messed up, who gives a damn? I do love however," Ellen turned back to look at the waitress again, "her neck."
"Her neck?"
"Yeah. It's very lean and probably says a lot about how much muscle she has in her face," Ellen twitched her eyebrows and smiled up to her cheekbones. Mary Beth laughed this time and slid her feet under the table until they touched Ellen's. She returned the gesture and wrapped her ankles, unwilling to let Mary Beth take her feet away from her reach.
