Date: Wed, 27 Dec 2000 02:15:54 -0000 From: Kathy Lind Subject: becoming close Again gentle rain was coming up the valley. It was after prayers, evening prayers. Our Sister of Grace from Africa finished writing home. She described the youngest nun in the Italian nunnery, her fair hair, her pleasing French accent. Today she had seen her again walking through the cloister on the Mother Superior's errands, just as she had done three days before to call Sister to the Mother Superior's office. Sister and the young French nun exchanged pleasantries, wishing each other God's grace. Each remembered Sister's gentle touch beneath her new habit, and each remembered the whispered promise of "after prayers?". Letter writing finished, Sister disrobed and lay back in her new wide bed which had suddenly replaced the old narrow one. The change had occurred without mention, without a word. A yard man had brought in the wide bed while the nuns were shopping in the village. Such changes, sister had soon realised when arriving at the convent, were usual. A wider table here, a softer chair here, some new writing paper, a yellow flower tucked in the keyhole of the guest room. All without mention, but with consideration and love. Sister was lost in reverie as she stroked her own bare stomach, stroked in wide circles, the ensuing warmth coursing through her body. A quiet knock. The door opened and closed. "I am here," whispered the young French nun. "Close the window," said Sister softly, and the young nun turned to the opening which looked down on the valley. The curtains swished silently, a few drops of rain ran down the dark window pane. The young nun's robes dropped to the floor, a young-womanly outline stood before the lone candlelight on the table. The young nun steeped towards the bed and knelt beside it. Lying on her side Sister's left arm was up under her pillow, her hand curved back so she could caress her own head. With her right arm she reached out and her hand caressed the girl's hair. As silent as the candlelight. Sister pulled back her eiderdown and showed the girl her body, whatever could be seen by candle light. The young nun rose and slid in beside her, their noses touching, their nipples touching, their knees touching, their toes touching. "I wish to come close --- come close," the young nun said, and Sister remembered such a phrase in O's file as they recorded O's own religious journey with other nuns. Sister encircled the girl with her arms. Lips grazed, an eyelash ticked. "Hail, Mary . . ." the girl whispered into Sister's face. A French accent. " Hair Mary . . ." Sister whispered back. An accent from Africa. ". . . full of Grace." ". . . full of Grace." Two small, young, pale pink nipples and two larger, mature, mature dark nipples touched. The sides two noses caressed in small, gentle movement as two breaths mingled over warm cheeks. A light touch as their abdomens met. Sister's hand held the hip, her finger's rubbing in a circular motion over the very extremity of the girl's spine, almost down to the rear cleavage. Their toes met beneath the eiderdown. Sister's toes stroked those of the young nun. The girl stroked back, then moved to the soles, touching gently. The young nun curled her feet around and stroked back. Sister's knee came up and the young nun spread her legs and tucked a foot behind Sister's uppermost leg. The young girl's back grew warm as Sister continued her circular strokes. Two French lips encircled a soft dark nipple as two pairs of ears listened to the easing rain. (ENDS)