The winter was at its zenith when the auburn-haired nun of the Alabaster Abbey wrapped her arms around herself and declared that she could not get warm. The winds blew through her cloak with hardly an apology, and the snow dampened the leather of her boots. It was her first winter at the Abbey, and even the stone bowls of steaming broth and hearty apple cider could not warm the slender sister. She shivered, shook, and quaked, and decided that something had to be done.
On the first night, she knocked on the door of the matron of the Abbey.
With a fire burning in the hearth, the matron taught the sister how she warmed herself against the coldest nights. Fingers exploring, the gentle teasing of pleasure to its peak, the hidden nooks of her own body. The auburn-haired nun gasped and shook as the matron watched and smiled. The nun thanked the teacher and they both fell asleep by the fire.
However, the cold still nipped at her toes, and the nun shivered.
On the second night, the auburn-haired nun saw a sister standing at the gates of the Abbey, as the sun dipped below the mountain pass. Although the snow covered her eyelashes and fingertips, the nun did not shiver. When the auburn-haired nun asked, the sister pointed out into the gathering darkness.
Although the auburn-haired nun was skeptical, sure enough, a wary-footed and bleary-eyed traveler stumbled into the courtyard within the hour. The waiting nun led the traveler by the hand into the barn, and the auburn-haired nun watched until the traveler and the nun were entwined on a bed of sweet-smelling hay.
Rushing back out to the gate, the auburn-haired nun only had to wait a few minutes before another wanderer stumbled into her arms. She brought him to the barn, undressed him, and rode him until he groaned and spent himself inside of her. Although the warmth seeped between her thighs and the traveler held her close until daybreak, still the tip of her nose twitched with the morning frost, and she shivered.
On the third night, still unsatisfied, the nun observed a twittering flock of her white-robed sisters disappearing into rooms together. Here, they said, join us. The room was a cacophony of rosebud breasts and parting mouths and silken furs, and the auburn-haired nun forgot for a moment what it meant to be untouched. With multiple mouths on her body, she collapsed into the writhing collective. And yet, even still, when the gentle breaths turned to sleep, her fingertips chilled and the nun shivered once again.
The next night, the nun sat in the Abbey’s tower huddled in her cloak, gazing out over the snow-coated plains, and tears of frustration ran down her cheeks.
“I do not think I will ever be warm here,” she said.
The matron, who had been observing from a distance the efforts of the girl since their evening together, clucked her tongue at the sight of the auburn hair in the moonlight. Folding her hands under her robes, she spoke in a quiet voice to a nun who wore her robes loosely around her body.
There was a knock on the door of the tower room, and the auburn-haired girl turned to see the sister push open the door.
“I have heard that you are always cold,” the newcomer sister said, and the auburn-haired nun nodded, brushing her tears from her cheeks. “That is particular, as there is a heat in me that I cannot find a release.”
The auburn-haired nun gasped as her sister pressed her body against hers, feeling the swelling length between the nun’s legs. The soft suppleness of a woman’s body, and yet the firmness there made the cold nun’s eyes wide with wonder. The endowed sister blushed, and then groaned, at the curious touch of her sister.
There, as the moonlight kissed the embers of the shivering nun’s hair, and as the winter wind strained at the tower’s stones, the sisters fell into an embrace of lips and breasts and hips and the nun was cold no more.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/98qbbp/the_secrets_of_the_alabaster_abbey_pt_4