Night at the Monastery

Lying in bed I looked at them once again the fabric felt soft and my curiosity getting the better of me I put them on. Shimmying into the panties they were even more exposed than I expected while my pussy was decently covered and they wouldn’t look too strange from up front both my asscheeks were exposed and just below my pussy a cutout made sure for easy access for those into that kind of thing.

There were actually quite comfortable and of better quality than most of my current underwear with the exception of a few pieces I likely inherited from Claires mom. Not sure what her thought process was giving a young nun that kind of underwear along but it was quite a bit more comfortable than the once the monastery gave us so I wore them quite often.

This one though was a no-go, even if comfortable I could go without the breeze in the back and hid them underneath my own underwear in my personal chest. No reason to carry them back to the ruins at this point.

Looking at the lewd letter I received I did appreciate the effort even if my answer is a clear no to his Wooing efforts, I wasn’t really into poetry and even if, I preferred girls, so he was barking up the wrong tree.

On the fourth he lifted up my skirt and started kneading my ass like dough. Without my robes as a barrier I could directly feel his large rough hands touching my skin and groping my ass.

My choice of panties that day had been rather unfortunate only affording me a modicum of dignity.

At that point I decided it was enough and stopped coming maybe if I didn’t arrive for a while he would stop.

That day had been rather fruitless and I didn’t pick up the letter this time around. Maybe leaving it untouched would make him understand I wasn’t interested.

Two days later I returned.