4 comments/ 52896 views/ 3 favorites Emma Leaves The Convent By: geckocrown Author's Note: Thanks to angel love for her excellent editing. * "Emma Louise Carlton! – Come to the front of the class." Emma squirmed in her chair, her shoes clicked together nervously and she sucked in her bottom lip. She knew that to delay would only anger Sister Judith even more, but she also knew what was coming. She mustered the strength to release her white knuckle grip of the school desk and stood, as she had been taught a lady should. She began the long walk to the front with all the demure a frightened school girl could be expected to display. Eyes upon her from either side and silence but for her footsteps and heart beat; she reached Sister Judith's Desk and lifted her eyes from the floor. Sister Judith stood for a moment and looked kind, almost loving. She took Emma's chin and lifted her face until they made eye contact. Emma imagined this might be what it would be like with a man and for one brief moment she almost leaned in to kiss her mentor. Her tormentor however, had other plans. "Do you believe girl . . . " Emma hated it when Sister called her girl, "Do you believe that you are so much better than the rest of us, that the rules do not apply to you?" Emma didn't know what to say, to be silent could inflame Sister's anger but to speak may be impertinent. Sister Judith saved her from the dilemma and addressed her via the class. "Do you believe that anyone here is impressed with a young harlot?" Emma couldn't believe that Sister Judith of all people would call her that in front of the other girls. "Lipstick is the clothing of street walkers. Is that what you intend to become – GIRL!" Emma had only worn the lipstick for Sister Judith, what had she been thinking. She knew what was next but it couldn't hurt as much as the words. This time Sister spoke softly, "Take hold of the desk child." Later in life Emma would often remember how strange it was to be so humiliated and humbled and yet feel loved at the same time. Emma took hold of the desk, her back to the class. She felt the glare of the other girls but also the closeness of Sister Judith; almost shielding her from them. Again the paradox struck her; her tormentor was also her protector. "Lean!" Emma winced at the sudden sharpness of Sister's voice and felt the ruler rest on her shoulder. Guided by the ruler she instinctively leaned forward, her backside offered in a display of subjugation. She felt her skirt being lifted and carefully folded in the small of her back, her panties pulled down just to the under curve of her buttocks. Even in punishment the nuns were neat. Emma knew that in this position her puffy labia could be seen by everyone. The moisture she had felt when walking down the class had become a flood. Just hearing Judith's voice could make Emma wet but being touched by her, being undressed by her – she hoped the other girls couldn't see. She hoped Judith could. Emma felt the cool rush of air over her pussy lips and buttocks and prayed that if she moaned the girls would think it was from the pain. Thwack! Emma awoke to the sound of the compartment door sliding open. The red desert began to roll by as the train pulled out of the station and the sound of the tracks beneath her brought her back to her senses. In the doorway stood a man, half gesticulating a request to join the carriage and half making himself at home, packing away his bag in the over head rack. Emma could feel the pain in her lip, where she had been biting it in her sleep. She remembered being handed two tissues, one for her tears and one for the lipstick. Now as then she felt she needed another; to deal with the wet patch in her crotch. She wondered if she looked flushed, if the stranger was aware of her disposition. She straightened her skirt and sat up. She nodded her acceptance to the intrusion, as if she had any choice in the matter. Roughly sliding the door closed, and with his baggage stowed, the man fell onto the chair diagonally opposite to her. Emma quickly turned her attention to the window. She became aware of the slight musty smell in the compartment, of her heart beat and shallow breath. Her face flushed red. How embarrassing she thought, as she bit her bottom lip. She wasn't focused on the landscape rushing by, only her reflection and that of her new unwanted traveling companion. She studied the man's reflection for a while. He looked to be in his late twenties. Sturdy as if he worked in manual labor, black facial stubble and hair. He was wearing a canvass shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up and faded jeans. "Country boy," Emma thought. He was sweating from waiting on the platform and in the air-conditioned carriage Emma could feel the heat radiate from him. She was engulfed by a wave of his scent and was surprised that far from being unpleasant it was a sweet and peppery smell that made her a little light headed. He looked at her through her reflection and their eyes met. Instantly she looked away and she flushed again. "Hi," he said as he opened his book and settled in. Emma, had taken this journey before. Each Summer holiday since she was thirteen, she had traveled back to her Aunt's house. The 'Indian Pacific,' a massive four and half thousand kilometer train journey from Perth to Sydney through desert, coast land and mountains. Emma had joined the train in Port Augusta the night before, roughly half the journey, and would arrive in Sydney the next morning. As always, her Aunt had only shelled out for a day/nighter seat instead of a cabin. Emma didn't care, this was the last time she would take this journey. "One night more," she thought, "one night more of wearing this uniform and being a girl." She had turned eighteen a few months before the end of the school year and given what had happened since then she already felt like a woman. She thought of Sister Judith and a ball of pain welled up in her chest. She felt the hot liquid in her eyes. She had said her goodbyes, she was ok with it and she knew this was how it had to be. She also knew however, that she was leaving something behind with her childhood, a love that she didn't understand. Mother, sister, lover, tormentor; Judith had been them all. Emma focused her gaze on the landscape. The low setting sun flooded the compartment with crimson red light as the desert began to give way to the Blue Mountains. Emma closed her eyes and the throaty rhythm of the tracks rocked her back to sleep. "I am sorry Emma," Sister Judith said as she wiped the tears from Emma's eyes. "I can't make exceptions. If the other girls thought . . . " "But Judith...," Emma whimpered. "It's Sister Judith, remember your place Emma!" Emma bit hard on her lip at the chastisement. She wanted so much for Judith to see her as a woman now. "We are alone now, why does she have to keep up the pretense?" Emma thought. Judith must have seen the pain in Emma's eyes as she softened and said, "Look, meet me tonight. We shouldn't fight." Emma smiled through her tears at the reprieve. "Hurry along now. They will be sounding the dinner bell soon." Judith patted Emma's bum as if to usher her out and Emma winced at the pain. A rush of guilt crossed Judith's face and Emma felt loved again. ............................................... Emma had never known her parents. She had been brought up by her aunt in a middle class suburb of Sydney. Her father had not stuck around when her mother fell pregnant and her mother passed away when she was very young. That was about all she knew. Being a staunch Catholic, her Aunt had stepped in to bring her up and although she was not un-loving, Emma knew it was out of a sense of duty. When Emma reached thirteen years old, it was not a difficult decision for her Aunt to send her off to the convent in Port Augusta. "Before you turn out like your mother," Emma recalled her saying. That was when she met Judith. Judith was a senior girl in her last year at the convent. It was customary for the senior girls to befriend one of the new girls to help settle them in. The senior girl was known as the guide and the junior as the 'sig.' as in cygnet. One day Judith had walked up to her and said, "My name's Judith. Would you like to be my sig.?" It was as simple as that, although Emma often wondered why Judith had chosen her. In the year that followed Emma found herself imagining Judith to be the mother she had never had. Emma couldn't believe her luck when Judith decided to take up orders, instead of leaving the convent, instead of leaving her. As Emma matured, Judith became like a sister and helped her through all the difficult moments of puberty. Then when Emma was about seventeen things began to change. Judith began to behave more like the other nuns and in particular, she picked on Emma. What Emma couldn't understand was that out of sight of the other girls or nun's Judith would laugh and play with her like nothing had changed. Then on her eighteenth birthday it happened. "Well sig., you are eighteen. I suppose you think I shouldn't call you child anymore?" Emma spun around to see Judith's beaming face and outstretched hands. She grabbed them and almost leaped into her embrace. Judith kissed Emma's cheek and as she often did, paused and held the kiss a little longer than she did with the other girls. This was their signal, their secret sign that Emma was special. Emma felt Judith's breath on her ear and it made her tingle. Judith released her embrace and took a step back. Looking Emma up and down she said, "Well I dare say you do look a little older today than yesterday." "Yes," Emma replied, "and in only a few months I'll be out of here and off to find my prince charming." Judith's warmth seemed to leave her, her eyes looked sad as she replied, "Yes, well all in good time young lady." Emma's stomach churned. She wasn't looking forward to leaving Judith either. She also hated it when Judith pretended to be like Mother Superior. She was only five years older than her after all. She apologized with her eyes and Judith seemed a little happier. "Come to my quarters after evening prayer Emma. I have a present for you." Emma had been to Judith's quarters many times before but never after evening prayer. What did that mean? Girls were not allowed into the nun's quarters after seven – maybe; yes maybe it meant that she was a woman now. Emma had been filled with excitement all day. Just the thought of boldly strolling the nun's quarters and brazenly sidling into Sister Judith's cell for an evening made her feel heady and grown up. She shifted and squirmed through evening prayer. "How could Father Francis go on so much?" Emma thought. Turning to the girl next to her she whispered, "Yes, blah, blah, blah, we are all going to hell, can we go yet?" The girl, Maria, was Emma's 'sig.' Maria giggled and retorted, "Somewhere you would rather be Emma?" Emma pinched Maria's leg and mockingly threw her a scowl. Maria feigned injury, but behind it Emma perceived some truth to the girl's unhappiness. "So this is how it goes," Emma thought. "Father Francis maybe right, we do all have our demons." For a moment she imagined how difficult it must have been for Judith. Finally Emma was impatiently shuffling along the corridors beyond the chapel with the other girls and found herself at the corridor for the nun's quarters. She stopped briefly, too scared to make the turn when she felt a dig in her back. Maria chirped up, "Go already!" Emma smiled and kissed Maria on the forehead and with that she was gone. She took one look back to see Maria with another girl holding and comforting her. Emma swallowed hard and turned the corner, not wanting to think about what that meant. Sister Judith's cell was a drab little room. Convict built stone walls, a single window which let in the moonlight, a writing desk with a lamp, a wardrobe and a bunk with a crucifix over it. Emma had entered to find Judith sitting at her desk. Being careful to close the door behind her, she rushed in and embraced Judith, kissing her dramatically on the cheek before hurling herself backwards onto Judith's bunk. Judith looked shocked at the grand entrance but beamed a smile that revealed her genuine joy at seeing Emma. It was only then that Emma noticed that Judith was wearing her night smock. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Judith out of her habit. Judith's ringleted hair fell down over her cheeks and onto her chest, her arms and neck were exposed and her legs were bare to a few inches above her knees. The ribbon that would normally be tied on the front was undone and Emma could see the smallest amount of Judith's cleavage. "You look beautiful," Emma stammered. "Silly girl," replied Judith but if anything her smile grew. "So I suppose you are here for your present sig.?" Judith teased. Emma pouted, "No, I am here to see you. But I suppose if you have a present then it would be rude of me to turn it away." Judith knelt between Emma's legs and reached under the bunk. Emma instinctively lifted her feet to the bed. Opening her legs, she peered between her knees to see what Judith was looking for. Judith paused and looked straight at Emma's now exposed panties. Emma realized what she had done and giggled. Judith however, looked deadly serious. She didn't move, her breathing shallowed and she didn't for a moment look away. As if transfixed and in turmoil of a decision she couldn't make, Judith just knelt there staring between Emma's legs. Even in her innocence, Emma knew what that look meant and her pussy blushed and throbbed at the attention. She found herself reaching for Judith, running her fingers across her cheek and into her hair, and then lightly grazing her nails behind her ear and down the back of her neck. Judith shuddered and looked into Emma's eyes as her back instinctively arched at the pleasure. Judith seemed frozen, unable to act on her desires but also unable to pull away, her eyes drowning in Emma's. All the power she had exerted upon Emma in the classroom was gone. Emma knew that Judith was under her control now; that for the first time, she was in charge. Emma leaned forward and brushed her lips against Judith's. Judith tried to embrace the kiss but Emma pulled back just enough to resist her. Judith's hot breath rushed out in stammered desire as she attempted to follow Emma's lips. Emma was intoxicated by the power. Judith swallowed and her eyes filled with tears as they begged Emma to release her from the cruel anticipation. Emma leaned in and began to suck gently on Judith's bottom lip and then trace it slowly with the tip of her tongue. Then as she began to kiss Judith, she ran her finger nails down her smock, caressing the underside of Judith's breast before finding her erect nipple. Judith moaned and then whispered, "I want you Emma. I want you so much." "Stand," Emma ordered. "What...?" Judith said sheepishly. "Stand Guide!", Emma barked. Judith almost leapt at Emma's new found confidence and stood before she even knew she had done it. Emma slid from the bunk to the floor squatting in front of Judith. Lifting one of Judith's feet to the bunk to create access, she began to lift Judith's smock inch by inch. As she did, she ran her tongue from Judith's knee and up her inner thigh. Within a few inches she could taste Judith's juices running down her leg and realized she had no underwear on. "Oh Lord help me," Judith moaned. As Emma was filled with the musty scent of Judith and only an inch from her puffy labia she thought, "He's not going to stop me now Judith, not this time." Emma began to run her tongue up Judith's slit, pausing at her opening. She worked her tongue in and out and then up and around her clit. Judith bit her lip and moaned then ran her fingers through Emma's hair and gripped gently to steady herself. Emma circled Judith's clit for a while to prolong the torture and then, after a pause, sucked Judith's aching clit into her mouth. Judith almost doubled at the rush of pleasure and Emma had to steady her by grabbing her buttocks. Judith squealed and was gasping for breath as Emma flicked her tongue over her clit. Emma could feel Judith's juices gushing over her face as she bucked against her tongue. "Oh God, oh God, make me cum Emma," Judith begged. Judith tasted fantastic and Emma longed for Judith to taste her. Emma could feel her own juices flooding her panties and reached down to play with herself. She parted her lips and fingered her own soaking pussy. Then, rubbing her clit, the pleasure swept over her like electricity. She couldn't believe it, how many times had she imagined Judith's pussy whilst playing with herself and here she was, bucking against her hand with Judith's pussy on her face. "Oh yes Emma, oh yes, right there," Judith tightened, pulled Emma's head into her and held her breath. With an explosion her orgasm rushed through her. Judith fucked Emma's face as she gasped and Emma felt the rush of juices filling her mouth and dripping from her chin. This was too much, Emma felt the muscles in her legs and pussy tighten and then her orgasm rushed through her. From her clitoris to the pit of her stomach and then up her spine, wave after wave of pleasure hit her until she fell back exhausted against the bunk. Judith fell forward and straddled her. Biting Emma's neck Judith could only speak in rasps, "Oh my beautiful sig., my beautiful sig." To be continued . . . Emma Leaves The Convent Ch. 02 Author's Note: Thanks to angel love for her excellent editing. * Judith's breathing returned to normal as the last flutters of her orgasm subsided. She caressed Emma's cheek with her lips and whispered into her ear, "Let's get that present for you shall we?" "That wasn't it?" Emma breathed with a smile as her own pussy felt the waning gratification. She had waited for so long to taste Judith; to make her cum, it seemed only right that it would happen on her birthday. Judith beamed back and rolled away from Emma to reach under the bunk. Pulling out a wooden chest she said, "You're eighteen now Emma. A young woman, and you will be leaving me . . . the convent soon." Emma peered into the chest to see. A hand mirror, a bag of makeup, two pairs of shoes, two sets of matching stockings, knickers and bras, and two beautiful dresses, one burgundy red and one emerald green. Emma giggled at the thought of a nun keeping these things under her bunk. "I bought these when I thought I would be leaving the convent," Judith said. "They're not much use to me now, but I kept them for you." Emma's heart was suddenly humbled. All the times Judith had been so strict with her and yet she had been keeping these things for this day. "She has loved me all along," Emma thought, "and I was a child." ........................................... Emma awoke and felt the tightness in her limbs from sleeping awkwardly in her seat. She had been sleeping with her head against the window and for a moment, the cold that had seeped into her forehead numbed her thoughts. Through the window there was blackness; nothingness, the compartment closed to the world as if nothing existed beyond its flimsy structure. The dimmed compartment light reflected the image of the man stood with his back to her, buttoning his cuffs and brushing himself down. The train lurched and he rocked steadily against the movement. Emma stretched to bring life back to her body as she stifled a yawn. "Oh," said the man. "I was about to wake you. They will be serving dinner soon. Actually I was going to wake you earlier; you looked like you were having a nightmare." Emma squinted through her sleepiness and replied, "Erm, yes; something like that." She blushed remembering her dream of Judith. "Greg -- Greg Martin," he said, leaning toward her and offering his hand. Greg's handshake was gentle but Emma marvelled at the size and power of his hand compared to hers. It was smooth, not callused or hardened as that of a 'country boy' as she had presumed of him, when he had first joined the compartment earlier that day. Her eyes followed his arm to his shoulders and neck. His pressed white shirt exposed the small of his throat and the tip of his chest at the open collar. "He's shaved," she thought, as the musky air of his cologne fell upon her. "Emma," she managed eventually to reply. "You hungry?" Greg offered. His quizzical eyes were slate grey. Staring into them Emma realized that her jaw had dropped slightly and she was still holding his hand. "I have to change," Emma blurted as she jumped to her feet. In a deft leap Emma grabbed her bag from the overhead rack and dived into the compartment's shower cell. The door swang shut and clicked behind her as the light above the mirror blinked on. Emma looked at her reflection. Her hair was knotted from sleep and her now two-day-old school uniform was dishevelled. It reminded her of a scene from Little Orphan Annie. "Great," Emma thought. "Not only do I look like a kid, I also look like a tramp." She chastised herself for her quick judgement of his appearance when he had joined the train. The shower cell was still warm from his shower and in the confined space the smell of his cologne made her dizzy. She reached into her bag and pulled out the dress, hanging it on the door in the hope that the steam would de-crease it. She had been saving it for tomorrow, to step off the train as a woman and to throw her uniform away. "Now's as good a time as any" Emma shrugged. She turned on the shower and peeled the convent uniform over her head as the compact room filled with steam. Steadying herself against the sink she pulled off her school shoes and socks. Taking another look at herself in the mirror, Emma smiled in her mind and said goodbye to the childish bra and panties as they dropped to the floor. Her clothes lay around like discarded dolls and broken toys -- Emma was stepping into womanhood. As Emma showered, she found herself thinking of Greg, who only moments before, had stood where she was now. She imagined his tall strong frame filling the cubicle, his muscular body shining from the water gushing over him. She pictured his strong hands gliding soap suds down his torso. She had never seen a naked man in the flesh, but the girls at the convent had pictures that she had seen. She imagined he was in the shower with her, the confined space forcing her back against the wall whilst his body pressed against hers. Trapping her; holding her; swallowing her with his body. She breathed in the fading scent of his cologne as she caressed her nipples. She moaned and bit her lip as she cupped her pert breasts, pinching her blood red nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. The water rushed over her stomach and poured between her legs like a hot stream, gushing over her clitoral hood and between her lips. Running her hand down the flat of her stomach she found her aching pussy. She parted her lips and the hot droplets began to rain on her clitoris. "Oh fuck," Emma breathed heavily, her body shaking from the relentless stimulation. She felt the shock of her mind's wanderings made real by her body's illicit reaction. Emma quickly began to rub her finger over her clit as the lust took over her completely. Her pussy ached to be filled and she slid two fingers inside. Rubbing her clit with her thumb she fingered herself imagining his cock inside her. She could feel the muscles of her pussy welcoming him, holding him and contracting as if to draw him in and imprison him there forever. She wondered how different his cock would feel to her fingers. Pressing her clitoral hood with the palm of her hand she hooked her fingers to find her g-spot. "Oh God yes fuck me!" Emma heard her voice echo in the shower cell but she was too far gone to care. Her fingers began to frantically rub inside her and she was unable to breath out -- gasp after gasp filling her lungs. She could feel the welling tension in her stomach and the tell tale ripples began to boil over inside her. She thought of Greg only feet away on the other side of the shower cell door and that took her over the edge. Emma clamped one nipple with her free hand and her whole body tightened. With a rush of air she breathed out as her orgasm almost knocked her off her feet. Her body shaking, Emma felt hot rushes of pleasure surging deep inside her and hot liquid gushed over her hand. Panting and steadying herself against the side of the cubicle Emma giggled to herself, "Wow, this guy's good." Emma stood there a while, letting the water wash away her indiscretion. Dreamy and floating on the ebbing waves of pleasure, she enjoyed the fading ripples of her lust. Emma towelled and dressed quickly, taking her time only over her makeup and hair. She wanted to make an entrance when she re-entered the compartment. She looked her self up and down and gave herself a little spin from side to side. "All woman," she thought and stepped out of the shower cell. Emma felt a little silly to find the compartment empty. Then the thoughts began to come to her. "He asked if I was hungry, perhaps he wasn't actually asking me to join him? Or perhaps -- oh God, perhaps he heard me and has changed compartments!" Emma felt her heart jumping in her chest. Quickly glancing around she saw that his bag was still there and his book was beside his chair. She picked up his book, curious to find out more about him. "Henry Miller - Tropic of Cancer," she read allowed. "We didn't cover this at the convent," she thought. A brief flick through the pages and she realized why. Emma wanted to read more but her growling stomach got the better of her and she headed off in search of him. Stepping tentatively into the dining carriage she scanned the tables. There he was, about half way down, facing her but looking at a menu. In front of him was a bottle of wine and one glass. Her heart sank. "He didn't ask me," Emma thought. She began to try and melt away when he saw her and beckoned her over. "Wow -- you look . . . different," Greg said as Emma sat down opposite him. Emma smiled, hoping that was a compliment. "Would you like a drink?" Greg asked seeming to be broken from the spell for a moment. Emma glanced at the bottle of wine. "Of course," Greg said as he motioned to the waiter for another glass. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if you would like a soft drink or something." "It's okay, I am eighteen, I have finished school," Emma was talking about the alcohol but was glad of the chance to let him know her age. Greg's face seemed to change a little as if he wanted to sigh with relief. Emma continued, "The uniform was just easier to travel home from the convent in. I had been saving the dress for tomorrow, for when we get to Sydney. "Well, it's a beautiful dress, I can see why you wouldn't want to travel in it but I'm glad you changed your mind about saving it," Greg replied, obviously trying very hard not to follow Emma's curves and cleavage with his eyes and clearly a little embarrassed about his awkwardness. "Well done," Emma thought and openly smiled, knowing that this time it was a compliment, albeit a little fumbled. As the evening drew on Emma found herself drawn deeper and deeper into the nuances of the man. His wrinkled brow when he was telling her something dramatic or the way he smiled with his eyes when she spoke to him. She found herself occasionally touching his arm lightly and in turn he would follow all her gestures with his eyes -- those slate grey eyes -- storm clouds ready to rain down upon her and engulf her in the tempest. Greg poured the remnants of their second bottle of wine. Each with a full glass and the evening all but spent, Emma found the courage, Dutch courage, to make her move. "Tell me about the book you are reading," Emma teased in her childish, but not so ill-informed innocence. Greg almost blushed, "Oh -- Miller, it's...it's a bit dirty really. It's good in places, but... well it's a bit vulgar to be honest. I don't think you'd like it." "Is that so!" Emma almost exploded at his presumption. "I will be the judge of that -- read some to me." Greg looked unsure, but the Dutch courage must have been infectious. "Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you." As they returned to the compartment, Emma could feel him pressing behind her, too close for a walk in the park but an acceptable distance on a lurching train after two bottles of wine. He reached around her waist for the door and she felt herself lean into him. Her back against his chest and his breath on the back of her neck. She could almost have given into him then but the door slid open and he stepped aside to hold it for her. Emma fell onto her side of the compartment, flicking off her shoes and melting into the welcoming bunk that had been made up from her day chair by some unseen valet during the evening. "So read me your sordid little book Greg, but be careful not to harm my sensitivities, I am but an innocent catholic child after all," Emma giggled and flashed him a flirtatious smile that she hoped left little doubt of her sarcasm or her intentions for him. Greg sat; taking the book he turned to the bookmarked page and began to read aloud. His low tones resonated through Emma. Hearing him speak passionately but almost in a hushed voice was so calming. With those words of lust coming from his lips, Emma could feel the warmth in her crotch as she imagined him acting them out upon her. Emma was left with the realisation that she knew nothing of men. Yet in that so brief a moment, she understood this man; she felt his heart and desires as he read to her. A new world had opened up and it scared her a little. With the effects of the wine and his dulcet voice Emma could feel her self almost drifting off to sleep. Then, Greg stopped reading. Emma sat up, she wanted to ask him to read more but he had already folded the book. He had a new look on his face, like a big cat crouched ready to take its prey or a spider watching the fly just inches from its web. Emma thought back to the fogginess of her mind when she had awoken earlier, numbed by the cold of the window. She wanted to go back. She wanted to take it all back. Frightened, moist, throbbing, desperate to be a woman but searching for her baby blanket, grasping for the safety of Judith -- overwhelmed by the beauty of the man in front of her. Rabbit in the headlights, caged tiger cub, Emma couldn't move. Greg stood and walked toward her. She had three options, the window and speeding tracks on one side -- that was out, the compartment door and a night in the corridor on the other -- she didn't fancy that much either, or to stay where she was. She stayed where she was whilst trying to evaluate what options were left. He was kneeling before her, his body between her legs and his lips inches from hers. She realized then, her options had run out. To her surprise, Emma found she had already placed her hands on his shoulders, her lips touching his. The many rehearsals played out in her mind and then left her like a turn coat army. This was real. This was not a photo shared with a friend or fumbling lust and self gratification in a darkened dormitory. Emma felt as though she were falling. Her muscles had deafened to her mind's calls for action. It was almost as though he exuded power and it had soaked into her. Taking her energy and will like a snake bite flooding her with blissful venom. His lips gently explored her face whilst his finger tips caressed her temple. He placed one hand on the small of her back and one behind her head. Like innate knowledge not revealed to her until now, she fell back into his cradle. His kiss ending any hope or desire of flight, she was his. Greg moved his lips to her throat and neck. Emma arched her back and unknowingly, instinctively, offered her breasts in the primal dance. Greg's mouth took every advantage; with one hand and strong arm still holding her neck and back, the other unbuttoned her dress to her stomach. His kiss was now on her soft chest between the lacy opening of her bra and the v of her breasts, his hot breath sending shivers through her being. Greg moved his free hand to her thigh, with slow and unstoppable determination he slid the hem of her dress to her hips, she was exposed but for the beautiful lacy knickers Judith had given her. Emma's words came out in defeated remorse " I . . . I'm scared Greg." "Shhhh," Greg consoled her. "You haven't been with a man before have you?" Emma searched for the flirtatious woman that had stepped out of the shower -- she had left her now, when Emma needed her most. Emma whispered as if not wanting to be heard, "No." "It's okay Emma; I am not going to hurt you. We won't do anything that you don't want to -- I promise." Emma opened her eyes to see the sincerity in his and in an instant was lost in the coming storm. Greg's eyes smiled as they had before and then he was gone from her line of sight. She felt her knickers being pulled down and was shocked to find that she had lifted her bottom from the bunk to facilitate it. Although he had shaved earlier, she could feel his light stubble between her sensitive inner thighs, not painful but masculine. His grip on her hips and buttocks was potent and his breath on her legs sent shivers up her spine. Working along her thighs and teasing the confluence of her legs and pussy. He worked his way to just below her belly button and down again. From her inner thigh to her perineum, around her vulva then up to her belly button before coming back down again on the other side. With each circuit he moved a little closer to her womanhood until eventually he was working her outer lips. Emma wriggled with each stroke, desperate for him to move in. And then, on one stroke he paused, breathing his hot breath on her centre. Emma felt the long moment of being exposed, examined and deserted of his tongue's attention. Just when the tension became too much, he licked her from the base of her pussy to her clit. Emma threw her head back and thrust her hips up to him. She gasped loudly at the relief and her body shuddered as he hit her clitoris. Greg loitered a while at her clit, pressing it with his flattened tongue before flicking it gently and then slowly starting again from the base of her pussy. With each stroke the speed and intensity grew almost imperceptibly. Each time Greg reached her clit, he spent a little longer there than the time before. He wasn't offering her pleasure. He was demanding it of her. Not ungentle but relentless, unwavering in his pursuit of her orgasm. Dogged in his slow rhythmic attention to her cunt. Emma lost any sense of time and thrashed against his now overwhelming dedication to her clit. His tongue fired against her in time with the clatter of the speeding train wheels. Faster, harder -- the train plunged into a mountain tunnel and the compartment shrank with the imploding air pressure. Emma's pussy clamped in unison and she exploded, her cry of ecstasy echoing around the compartment. The tunnel lights streaked across the window like a strobe as Emma writhed against his face. The crushing sound of the train reverberated from the tunnel walls, muffling her orgasmic song. Emma didn't know how much time had passed when the train left the tunnel. A moment? A few minutes? An hour? Her only reference to time was the throbbing of her pussy and the light spasms still rushing through her. But in an instant, the weight of the tunnel lifted and the train was rushing through the night's sky again. Emma sat up desperate to kiss this beautiful man. She had never felt anything like that before. It was like all her previous orgasms rolled into one. Emma found his lips and kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his face and in his mouth. She knew one thing; she had to give him the same pleasure; she had to see those amazing grey eyes see her as a woman as he came for her. Emma stood and pulled off her dress. Kicking her knickers from her feet and undoing her bra, letting it fall to the floor exposing her nubile breasts. She stood naked before him, afraid but determined and defiant at her passing childhood. Greg stood and kissed her as he began to undress. Item by item his body was revealed to her. His handsome chest and shoulders as his shirt fell, his abs as he unbuttoned his belt. He was not as muscular or as painted as the pictures she had seen -- but he was real and certainly not ill-defined. He was here in front of her with scent and warmth and graphic reality. He was better than the pictures. Greg sat to unveil the rest and he was naked before her, his cock stood, visibly throbbing as he lay back upon his bunk. Whilst the child in Emma stood still, the woman stepped forward drawn to his manhood. Instinctively she knelt and took his cock in her hand. Amazed by its girth, its rippled veins and bulging head. It didn't look in anyway in proportion to her fingers. "How will I ever get one of these inside me?" Emma thought. She studied him, amazed and bewitched at how different a man was to her. Men had always been slightly obscure. People just like her but different in some immeasurable way. Now she saw the measure of it. Emma Leaves The Convent Ch. 02 Emma reminded herself that she wanted to see his pleasure. But, now it shamefully occurred to her, that apart from the stories she had shared with the other girls, she had no idea what to do next. She began to caress him and run her hand up and down his shaft. She took solace in his moans and hoped that she was doing it right. Greg's hips began to rise against her downward stroke and she perceived his muscles rippling in waves up his torso. He was moaning lightly and Emma began to find her confidence. Emma cupped his balls with her other hand and held them gently. Her eyes studied him all the while looking for signs. She felt the heat rising within her again and began to give in to her natural instinct -- her innate skill to pleasure a man. The head of his cock released a little liquid and she couldn't resist licking it -- tasting it. Greg's body writhed at the pleasure of her tongue and Emma began to get an idea of what would work. Emma ran the tip of her tongue up his scrotum to the base of his shaft. Watching to see his reaction she continued up the underside of his shaft, his body rose and then fell as he pushed his hips forward when her tongue reached the base of his head. Seeing this reaction she flicked her tongue there for a while and his moans reassured her in her new found ability. Emma fucked his shaft with her hand as she licked around the head of his cock. Moving her tongue to his tip she again tasted his now flowing pre cum and she relished in the new exciting taste. When she felt he could take no more, she took him into her mouth lifting her eyes to watch him as she sucked him in and pumped his cock with her hand. Greg's moans fastened as she sucked his cock. Trying to emulate his skilful rhythm on her, she yearned for his rush of seed. Watching him all the time, learning from him and giving all she knew how to -- she wanted his cum in her mouth. Greg opened his eyes a little. They looked different now. Half closed, liquescent and filled with lust. They reminded her of a moonlit beach on a winter's night. A cold and windy grey strip of land, concealing the unfathomable black ocean behind. His moans where the crashing of the waves. Emma sucked her merman deeper into her mouth and she knew, his seas were at her beck and call. With her free hand she felt his balls lift and tighten, his cock on the roof of her mouth and almost at the back of her throat, tightened and grew one last time. Emma wasn't sure but something told her to get ready. Greg pumped and moaned, his hips thrust forward as he filled Emma's mouth with his cum. She swallowed the first two bursts but she had no idea how much more was to come. On the third burst she felt his seed escaping her mouth and running down her chin as he fucked her mouth with his gushing cock. Greg's body collapsed beneath her as she licked her lips, savouring her first experience of power over man, his sapped cock in her hand she smiled at her achievement and Greg's eyes smiled back. Emma slid into his bunk and Greg covered her with the sheet, lying behind her and wrapping himself around her- he was asleep, breathing deeply into the back of her neck before she could speak.