**Title: The Sin of Sister Margaret**

The first time I saw Sister Margaret, it was like the air had been punched from my lungs. She was beautiful—tall, with sharp blue eyes and dark hair always pinned just tightly enough under her veil to make me wonder what it would look like spilled across her shoulders. Every morning, I sat in the front pew of the chapel just to watch her lips move in prayer, how her fingers traced the rosary beads like they were something delicate and sacred.

I was a virgin. Seventeen, untouched, and burning with something I didn’t have the words for.

It started small—lingering glances, the way she’d stand too close when she corrected my Latin. Then came the nights. I’d stay late in the library, pretending to study, just so I could walk past her office. One evening, the light was still on.

Her door was cracked open.

I shouldn’t have looked. But I did.

Sister Margaret was sitting at her desk, her habit unbuttoned just enough to expose the swell of her breasts, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric, rubbing slow circles over her nipples. A soft sigh slipped from her lips, and my thighs clenched.

Then her eyes snapped open.

She saw me.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then she crooked a finger.

“Come here.”

The command sent a bolt of heat straight to my cunt. I stepped inside, trembling, my schoolgirl skirt brushing my thighs as I shut the door behind me.

Sister Margaret rose slowly, her gaze dark, predatory. “You’ve been watching me,” she murmured. “Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

I swallowed hard. “I-I didn’t—”

She cut me off, stepping so close I could smell the faint scent of lavender on her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

My breath hitched. I couldn’t say it.

She smirked, then gripped my wrist, pressing my palm hard between her legs. Through the rough fabric of her habit, I could feel the heat of her pussy, already soaked.

“This is a sin,” she whispered against my ear. “And you’re going to help me commit it.”

Then her mouth crashed into mine.

Her kiss was relentless, her teeth grazing my bottom lip before her tongue pushed inside, claiming me. I moaned, my body arching into hers as her hands yanked at my uniform, popping the buttons of my blouse. Cool air hit my bare skin, and then—her mouth was on my tits, sucking, biting, until my nipples were stiff and aching.

“P-please,” I whimpered, my fingers tangling in her hair.

She pulled back just enough to smirk. “Please what?”

I couldn’t say it. But she knew.

With a rough shove, she bent me over her desk, my cheek pressed against the wood as she hiked my skirt up. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, yanking them down. Then—

A sharp, wet sound. Her tongue, dragging a hot stripe up my cunt.

I cried out, my hands scrambling for purchase as she ate me like a woman starved. Her lips sealed around my clit, sucking hard, while two fingers pushed inside me without warning. I gasped, my virgin pussy clenching around her as she curled them, hitting a spot that made my vision blur.

“Fuck,” she growled against my skin. “You’re so tight.”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—just fucked myself back on her fingers, desperate for more. Then she added a third, stretching me, my pussy dripping down her wrist.

“You like that?” she demanded, her voice rough. “Like being defiled in God’s house?”

I sobbed, nodding, my orgasm coiling tight in my belly.

She laughed—dark, sinful—and suddenly her fingers were gone. Before I could protest, she spun me around, forcing me to my knees.

“Now,” she ordered, gripping my hair, “suck.”

I didn’t hesitate.

Her cunt was swollen, glistening, and I licked into her like I was begging for communion. She moaned, her hips jerking as I devoured her, my nose pressed against her clit. Her taste was addicting—salty, sweet, sinful.

“Good girl,” she panted, grinding against my mouth. “Just like that.”

I whined, my own pussy throbbing, as her thighs began to shake. She came with a cry, her juices spilling over my tongue, and I drank every drop.

Before I could catch my breath, she dragged me up, shoving me onto the desk. Her hand wrapped around my throat, not tight enough to hurt—just enough to remind me who was in control.

“Next time,” she murmured, lining her soaked pussy up with mine, “I’m going to fuck you with a strap.”

Then she rocked forward, our clits grinding together, and the world went white.