Littlejohn felt the cold raindrops dripping with irritating slowness on his closed eyelids forcing him to awaken far before he was ready to rise and greet the new day.

It was still black as the inside of one of King John’s dungeons in the tiny shelter where he had sought shelter the night before.

He knew he had made a mistake as soon as he saw the robes of the pair of traveling nuns on their way to the Cathedral in the nearby city center on an annual pilgrimage of homage to the shrine of the Christ child in the humble manger surrounded by domestic animals and the shepherds from the flocks in the field.

The huge figure of a man huddled speechless just inside the flap of the hasty shelter. He was uncertain of his welcome. He was certain in his knowledge that his presence was of some concern to the two females in black garb. The older one was plain of face but had a comely shape under the shapeless robe that reached all the way down to her ankles. The younger one had a sparkle in her eyes that was unexpected on the face of a religious person on a pilgrimage.

“Kindly remove yourself, young man. We are innocent servants of the Lord and have no wish for your company.”

The words from the older nun’s lips were scarce out of her mouth when the thunder and lightning was upon them and they all moved to the center of the canvas covered lean-to and he found himself entwined in female limbs on both sides.

Littlejohn could see the smile on the younger nun’s face and he knew the extent of her internal excitement from the way her knees were quivering on his muscular thigh.

“Please excuse me, sisters, I mean no intrusion but the storm is upon us and I beg your patience until it subsides in its ferocity, if you would be so kind.”

He could feel the stiffness of the older nun’s nipples on his arm rubbing him with a familiar rhythm that was totally out of expectation from the mature woman of the church. He looked down into her eyes and saw the hunger hidden there like a written invitation for nocturnal cuddling of the carnal kind hidden from the outside world and the storm around them.

Littlejohn knew he already had a handsome cock stand between his legs and the fact that the younger nun was exploring it with both her hands encouraged him to pull the older nun’s lips to his and enter her mouth with his greedy tongue testing the depth of her hunger without delay.

He was surprised that the younger nun lost no time in raising her robes to reveal her lack of undergarments with the exception of a pair of velvet green sleeves from her tiny wrists to above her pretty elbows. The shining reflection of her fresh young flesh in the candlelight was enough to give him pause as she straddled his hips with her unshaven body. Her pink tinted pussy lips that were dripping wet with her juices burst forth with brazen pride inside the privacy of the suddenly heated shelter.

The younger nun was known as Sister Ruth in the convent and she was a favorite of the older nuns that fully appreciated her soft skin and pretty face. Sister Ruth was not inclined in that direction but she saw no problem in giving the frustrated Sisters the pleasures they desperately needed. This opportunity to being used by a demanding shaft was the answer to her prayers secretly mouthed silently under her blanket almost every night.

The older nun watched their copulation with panting excitement.

Her name was Sister Mercy and she hadn’t been this close to a man in many a year. She was quite content to just watch the younger nun ride the huge man’s cock with an eagerness of enthusiasm that gave credit to her youth.

Sister Mercy had been married for almost a full decade before joining the order and she knew full well the demands on the flesh of a married woman satisfying her mate in the eyes of God. Her husband had grown up in the shadow of his kinky older sister with her preference for anal pleasures.

The mature nun opened her mouth widely to accept the huge man’s tongue as she watched Sister Ruth open her legs for the night-time visitor to their shelter from the storm.

She heard the man grunt in that way her own deceased husband had done so often just before he would flood her insides with his spend. Sister Mercy saw the man withdraw with his shaft still at full attention and she quickly squatted on it with her anal opening and took him deep inside her trembling sphincter with a shout of sheer joy at the quick penetration.

It had been ever so long since she had been stretched in such a fashion in her nether regions.

Surprisingly, the big man called Littlejohn stayed hard as a rock and took the full measure of the older nun’s buttocks on his lap with a steady slap of aroused meaty joining that garnered the full attention of the still horny Sister Ruth. Her fingers were buried inside her slit splashing in the recently deposited cream donated by the big man in a display of fornication that continued to give her tingles all over her lower body.

Sister Mercy was driven into a frenzy of writhing on Littlejohn’s lap with his long shaft buried deep inside her fundament.

“Oh, dear Sister Ruth, don’t take this man’s thing in your ass. It is far too big for you with your tiny opening back there.”

The older nun’s words were a spur to the younger nun’s emotions causing her to spill her juices out in a sordid show of complete wantonness that confirmed the extent of her urgent need for impalement after several years of abstinence.