The dark-cloaked traveler stumbles down the mountain pass, weary from exhaustion and uncertainty. Stumble coats his cheeks, hollow eyes stare out from above the scarf that is wrapped around his mouth and nose, warding off the cold. His fingers are numb, barely grasping the wooden rod that he slides into each snow drift and uses to push himself forward.
He collapses just shy of the gates of the Alabaster Abbey.
It is the youngest of the nuns who first spots him there, the unusually dark shape in their hidden valley. She calls to her sisters, and a sleigh is fetched.
It is a well known fact, especially among the sisters, that the best way to cure a man (or woman) of death of cold is to lie with them unclothed. Sharing of body heat slowly returns life to the sufferer, which is why when the man is bundled into a spare room in the Abbey, he is immediately stripped and slid under a pile of rabbit hides. His wet clothing is laid out by the fire, which is hurriedly stoked by two sisters. Another two, including the youngest, discard their white robes, slide under the hides, and press their smooth flesh to his.
The nuns are not shy about that sort of thing, it is all very practical.
The unexpected guest sleeps throughout the day, and the two nuns do as well, mostly for lack of anything better to do, their bodies always clinging closely to his slowly-warming flesh. Distracted, the youngest nun awakes, running her fingers through the curls of hair on the man’s chest.
He shivers, and his eyes open.
The youngest nun later thinks that the visitor takes the news of his near death extremely well. Breathlessly, when he has departed, she will recount to her sisters of how she felt a warm, blunt nudging against her thigh as she spoke, and although she knew little of men and their kind, she found the gasp the visitor gave when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft to be quite endearing.
The second nun only stirred from her slumber as the man rolled on top of the youngest one, and made her cry out softly as he pressed himself inside of her. Somewhat disappointed at being left out, the other nun rolled towards the coupling, and kissed her sister on the mouth. The youngest nun responded in earnest, her fingers seeking out the slickness between her sister’s legs.
The nun who returned to stoke the fire opened the door before swiftly closing it again, and decided that the occupants were able to create their own heat sufficiently.
When he was spent, half of his silver seed spilled into the belly of the youngest nun, while the rest decorated the rounded breasts of the other. The man collapsed against their bodies, murmuring something about angels before his eyes fluttered shut.
The visitor left the Abbey in the morning, for visitors never tend to stay long there, or so I have heard. He gave a wave from the mountain pass to the Abbey’s whitewashed walls, the gifted furs collecting around his shoulders, keeping the cold from passing through and hiding the small red curves in his shoulder blades left by two sets of grasping fingernails.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/95ejop/the_secrets_of_the_alabaster_abbey_fmf_fiction
This is a seriously good start to a bigger collection of stories I can really get behind. These stories get me hard every time. Keep it up. :)