Chapter 9

The girls could have pranced around naked all they wanted, for a lot longer than they expected, because at the moment Judith warned them about her, Sister Francine was still busy getting her bell rung.

It was Brady who finally got them out of bed. He hadn't had a woman in over a year. He'd dated a couple of women after he couldn't find Francine, and had bedded one of them, but only once. She couldn't compare with his dream - and missing - lover.

But the saying "If you don't use it, you lose it!" applies, among other things, to semen. The fact that he hadn't "used it" for a long time didn't mean he could go forever, or cum repeatedly with no end. He was worn out. Happily worn out, but still worn out.

"We have to get up," he said.

"I don't want to," she said, clinging to him.

"I love you," he said, "But we have to get up. We have to get you some clothes."

"Not if I just stay here in bed with you," she sighed.

"If we do that, room service will find my dried out husk. You took everything I have!"

"Then make more," she wheedled.

He pushed her away and got up.

"I'm going to take a shower. Then, while you take yours, I'm going to go find you something to wear so we can eat breakfast and go shopping for the girls."

"The girls!" moaned Francine. "I'll never be able to face them again! I am such a slut!"

"Oh, knock it off," groused Brady. "They have no idea what happened to you last night. And you're not a slut. You're my girlfriend."

She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair.

"It sounds so strange to hear that word used for me. I'm a twenty-eight year old woman, not a girl."

"You're a woman all right," sighed Brady. "I'll vouch for that."

She got off the bed.

"I love you so much. What are we going to do, Brady?"

"About what?" he asked.

"About us?" she moaned.

He took her into his arms. Her skin felt warm against his, and he felt his loins try to produce another erection. But he knew it was fruitless, at least until he got some rest.

"What is there to do?" he asked. "I love you, and you love me. And now there is no barrier to us being happy together. So that's what I intend to do ... be happy with you."

"You make it sound so easy," she said into his neck. "But it's not. We live hours and hours and hours away from each other."

"We don't have to," he said.

She pulled away to look into his face.

"What do you mean? I'm a teacher. I'm a ... I was a novice. I can't just leave."

"Why not?" he asked. "As I recall, you just went there. Why can't you just leave?"

"Because the girls need me!" she said.

"If you're not there, somebody else will take care of them," he said, softly. "I lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again."

"This is happening too fast," she said, pushing him away. "I need to think. Go on and take your shower. And hurry. I want some real clothes. You're right. We need to take care of the girls. I can't imagine what they're feeling like right now."

"They've been asleep," said Brady. "They're probably bored out of their heads because they can't get dressed and go anywhere."

"I hope so," sighed Francine. "Bored is good."

"I'm sure they had a boring night," said Brady.

As it turned out, it only took Brady ten minutes to find something for Francine to wear. In the gift shop he found a T shirt that announced the wearer had been to this year's Super Bowl, and a pair of sweat pants. He guessed at the size and got her a pair of shower shoes.

When they arrived at Bob's suite, everything did, indeed, seem to be in a state of boredom. The girls were all together in their room, attacking the breakfast which room service had delivered. Bob was sitting on his bed, dressed in a hotel robe and watching one of the morning shows on TV. He looked normal, other than the bags under his eyes, that suggested he hadn't slept well.

The girls were so busy keeping their secret that they didn't look at Francine, whose face was broadcasting the guilt she felt about having abandoned her novitiate.

Armed with Bob's credit card, Brady and Francine left the hotel and climbed into a cab.

On the way to the mall the driver recommended, they came up with a list. Francine had no idea how long it would take to arrange to get them back in the van and on their way home. So each girl needed something to sleep in and clothes for the next couple of days. And then, of course, there was the banquet.

The night before was probably responsible for the fact that Francine now thought about things from two perspectives. Part of her was still a novice. That role fell back upon her shoulders like a familiar old cape. But she was also a vibrant, happy, sexually fulfilled woman again. Both of those behaviors played out in how she shopped.

In any case, just because Francine had explored the lifestyle of a nun, that didn't mean she'd forgotten everything she ever knew. She remembered her prom, and while there probably wouldn't be dancing, this would be a sort of prom for the girls. She wouldn't deny them this pleasure. She knew they were good girls, at heart. True, they had succumbed to temptation. But they had also learned a valuable lesson in life, that things can get out of control.

They wouldn't do that again. Not right away, anyway. She was sure of that.

Nor had she stopped going to stores, where the latest in women's fashion was always on display. She still owned jeans and T shirts. Granted, she dressed more conservatively these days than she had in the past, but the "girl" inside her hadn't been removed by the nuns. Subdued ... yes ... but not removed.

The girls at St. Clementine's, on the other hand, tried everything they could to leave "subdued" behind when they got out of their school uniforms. The nuns knew that too, because they saw the girls in those situations. And, quite often, corrected "problems in judgment." One of the most common corrections involved the phrase "Go put on a bra, young lady!" which also, quite often, involved a lecture on the health benefits of wearing support. The girls, of course, tried to push the envelope, for no other reason than to engage in the thrill of behaving wickedly. A common excuse was "All my bras are in the laundry, Sister," and, unless the nun was willing to spend the time it took to call the girl's bluff and actually go inventory her drawers, they sometimes got away with it.

Francine knew this. She'd been given a lecture about the things the girls would try to pull, and that had been included.

As she thought about the fact that the girls were going to a fancy banquet that night, and would be hanging around the hotel on the morrow, at least until Francine could figure out how to get the van back, opportunities abounded for one or more of the girls to "explore" this environment, which was rich with temptations.

So instead of getting the girls plain, white, utilitarian bras ... she decided to get them something they'd be so thrilled with that they'd actually want to wear it.

"Which of these do you like better?" she asked Brady, holding up two designs.

"You want the truth?" he asked.

She didn't get it, and said "Of course!"

"Neither," he said, grinning. "I like you better without."

She smiled, but insisted, telling him her theory. At that point he got serious and rendered an opinion. She got each girl a matched bra and panty set that she was absolutely sure Mother Mary would frown at vociferously, said sets being comprised of much lace, and little fabric overall. She was sure the girls would kill to wear something like that.

She got herself a set too, making Brady choose again. She was surprised that what he wanted to see on her was soft and looked comfortable. It had a front catch on it. The material was thin, and she knew her nipples would show through it. She wondered if he'd thought the same thing and, rather than being miffed with him, felt the familiar spikes of desire shooting into her loins, like Cupid's arrows.

She also picked out sports bras and panties in vibrant colors. These, Mother Mary might actually let the girls keep. The lacy, sexy things would be discarded before they got back to the school. They'd be wearing the more utilitarian underwear when they got home.

For the banquet that night, she decided to get something for herself first, and then match that for the girls. It may have been a subconscious desire to get them all back into "uniform." What she chose was what she thought of as "nothing fancy" in basic black, in a pleated hem design in ponte knit. It left her arms bare, but covered the shoulders. The neck scooped, but not a lot.

It had been two years since Francine had gone anywhere that required she wear a dress at all. And she thought of black as being basic, plain, and ... well ... subdued. But while she did pay attention to the fact that her knees were covered, and that not too much cleavage was exposed, she didn't think about what the dress was made of. It hugged her body and was also light enough that, when she walked, it flared and swung, accentuating the sway of her hips. Of course she didn't walk towards the mirror in it. She just stood there.

The other problem came when she asked Brady what he thought of it, telling him that she intended to get the girls matching dresses.

While she didn't think of them as such, they were, in reality, the basic "little black dress" that every woman who wants to get laid should own. Of course Brady approved.

She added black platform shoes that would lift each girl three inches into the air, but for herself she got four inch spikes. She knew there were big changes in her future, and she knew she would be going out with Brady too. Even if they worked in different states, she was absolutely sure it wouldn't be two more years before they went somewhere together. She wanted those shoes to be her souvenir of finding him again.

Thinking she was being charitable, she told Brady to select a variety of costume jewelry so the girls wouldn't feel completely plain.

Still, overall, she thought she was shopping with conservatism in mind.

Back in the hotel room, things weren't going so well.

At least not for Bob Tanner. And he had much more to deal with than merely the guilt of knowing he'd fucked his little girl in his alcohol-fogged sleep. There were other things coming, that he didn't know about yet.

As soon as Sister Francine and Brady had left, Janice called the girls into a huddle.

"We'll never get this chance again," she whispered.

"What chance?" asked Tiffany.

"The chance to ... um ... explore with a man," she responded.

It was clear what "man" she was referring to.

"No way," said Judith firmly. "He's my daddy!"

"Yes, and it would be a shame if what you and your daddy did last night ever got out," she said, ruthlessly. The extortion in her voice was clear.

"And I thought you were my friend," said Judith, slumping.

"I'm sorry," said Janice, immediately. "I am your friend. You know I'll never tell. But really ... we'll never get this chance again. Come on. Don't be stingy. Share!"

"If you think I'm going to let you do that ... with my father ... then you're wrong," said Judith, sticking her chin out.

"Not that," said Janice. "But there are other things I bet everybody is curious about ... things I've done ... want to do again. And now we have a man who can't say no if we ask to do them with him."

"That's blackmail!" said Tiffany.

"Yes, it is," agreed Janice. "And we all know none of us will ever do anything to hurt Judith, or her father, but he doesn't know that."

"That's awful!" said Monica, sounding horrified.

Janice looked at her. "Didn't you tell me not long ago that you wondered what it would be like to give a man a blow job?"

There were gasps all around.

Janice wasn't going to waste any more time trying to convince her friends what an opportunity this was. Instead, she dropped the sheet from around her shoulders and marched resolutely out of their room ... and into Bob's.

She was only out of sight for five or six seconds before the other girls burst into action and followed. They, of course, were still covered.

Bob had on his boxers. He'd taken the robe off in anticipation of getting dressed. His pants, in fact, were lying on the bed beside him, but he hadn't gotten any further. Being mired in contemplation caused him to sit there, rather than finish getting dressed. Nor was he paying much attention to the TV, unless the game was mentioned. He had enjoyed what happened entirely too much, and there was nothing he could do about that. What was done was done. At least Judith had assured him she wasn't traumatized by it.

He was sitting on the end of the bed, trying to imagine what he would do next, when a naked girl appeared, as if by magic, right in front of him.

"Mr. Tanner," said the girl, whose name he couldn't remember right then. "We don't get to spend much time with boys. Our sexual education has, frankly, been seriously neglected. Considering what happened last night, we were hoping you would help us rectify that problem."