Sister Margaret stood frozen in the doorway, her face drained of all color, eyes wide with pure shock and disbelief.
She had run from the convent the moment the gunshots started. Her habit was torn and dirty, her veil missing, graying hair messy and sticking to her sweaty forehead. But nothing in her decades of holy service could have prepared her for the sinful, depraved scene unfolding right in front of her.
I was lying on the couch with my legs spread obscenely wide, my torn habit pushed all the way up to my neck, my large, heavy breasts completely exposed and covered in fresh bite marks, hickeys, and red suction marks. Lucien was on top of me, his thick, veiny c**k buried deep inside my c*m-drenched, gaping p***y, slowly thrusting in and out while he looked over his shoulder at her w
