Awakenings

My Summer Project Part 2: Awakenings

-- Prologue: Suddenly I See

"Suddenly I see / This is what I wanna be..."

"In less than a day, I went from sandwich duty to scientific immortality. And she did it with a kiss and a tennis skirt."

-- Francis "Frankie" Hollis

"WAIT!" Bobbi said, stopping suddenly. "Shit, I almost forgot to tell you."

Frank halted mid-step, his heart skipping. "Tell me what?"

"I had my staff check for existing patents on those two ideas you gave me. If nothing turns up, we're filing under your name as primary. Since you don't work for the company that shall not be named, I'll help you negotiate your royalties. Oh, and we should loop in your dad when he's back."

Frank blinked, stunned. "What?"

"They're your ideas, Frank. You deserve the credit," she said matter-of-factly. "Also... how'd you like to join my team? We'll wait until after the patents are filed so it doesn't complicate the royalties. But you'd start part-time, since you're still in school. Your first-year salary alone should cover grad school."

Frank just stared at her. "What?"

Bobbi smiled, kissed him again, and turned, continuing down the hall as if she hadn't just flipped his entire life upside down.

Frank scrambled to catch up.

Holy crap... Today is turning out way better than how it started. I don't think anything else could possibly top this.

---

Francis (Frankie) Hollis followed the astonishing Dr. Bobbi Baxter down the hall toward the conference room, his thoughts spinning.

A storm of emotions tumbled through him, colliding like waves in a gale. Logic tried to take over... there was a big meeting ahead... but his attention kept wandering to the gentle sway of Bobbi's hips beneath that tight tennis skirt.

Frank hadn't planned to host. He hadn't even planned to stay past lunch. His original Saturday itinerary? Attend the meeting, then hit up his friend John's party and hook up with the teasingly flirtatious Susan Williams. But as the saying goes,

The best-laid plans of mice and men...

Life had curveballs... and that morning, one was thrown fast and low. Ted Hollis, his father, got a call: Grandma had taken a fall. Though her injuries weren't life-threatening, they required hospitalization, and Ted and Cathy (Frank's mom) left for Mt. Prospect as soon as Bobbi arrived.

"Francis," Ted had said, gripping his son's shoulder. "You know this project better than anyone. You've got this. Be gracious, take care of everyone, and don't let them drink all the good wine."

And just like that, Frank was in charge.

-- Chapter 1: Head Over Heels

"Something happens and I'm head over heels... I never find out till I'm head over heels..."

"It wasn't the sex. It was the gravity. The way she looked at me like I already mattered."

-- Frank Hollis

The house on Lower Genesee Lake, with its twenty acres of private woods, beach, and guest-ready layout, was impressive... perfect for impressing the committee and the representative from the Pine Run Trust. After all, the future of 150,000 pristine acres on the Door Peninsula hung in the balance.

Bobbi Baxter had arrived early. Frank hadn't known what to expect. Certainly not her.

Petite, maybe five-two, she was three years older, with sun-kissed blonde hair, ocean-blue eyes, and legs that wouldn't quit. But it wasn't just her looks. This was Dr. Bobbi Baxter: Vice-Dean of Sciences, AI Director at Caltech, Pine Run Trust President, tech prodigy, literary brain, and total knockout.

She should've been intimidating. She wasn't.

She was funny, sharp, playful. Disarming. And she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say... not just about life, but about tech, design, systems. About him.

And then there was the sex. Or, more accurately, the spellbinding blur of lust and connection that happened in the guest cottage... a spontaneous fusion of minds and bodies that left him reeling. They'd made love. Not just once. And he hadn't felt this way about anyone before. It wasn't just physical. It wasn't even just emotional. It was something deeper, and he didn't have a word for it yet.

Her entrance through the patio doors a few minutes ago, made him blink and his stomach flip. She looked amazing, the sight of her, sunlit, smiling, casual, drove his thoughts wild.

"Frankie?"

Focus, Hollis, he thought. Get it together. You've got a meeting to run.

But his gaze was drawn to her again, zeroed in on the sway of her hips as they walked toward the conference room.

"YO! Earth to Frank!" Bobbi's voice broke the spell. She grinned. "Where am I going?"

"Shit... sorry!" Frank flushed, hurrying to open the door. "Here. Conference room."

His mind was a whirlwind... passion, purpose, panic, possibility all tangled together. Frank had always been a dreamer, but this wasn't a fantasy. It was happening. And he was at the center of it.

She'd changed everything. Bobbi was a force of nature... a black hole, maybe, pulling him into her orbit, rewriting gravity as he knew it. The life he woke up to wasn't the life he was living now. And maybe that was the point.

He opened the door and stepped inside.

Time to show them who Frank Hollis really is.

-- Chapter 2: Ain't That a Kick in the Head

"Like the fella once said, ain't that a kick in the head..."

"Nothing prepares you for the moment you realize your conference room used to be a porn set... and your weekend guest might want to stream the footage."

-- Frank Hollis

Bobbi stopped short as she stepped into the massive room, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Jesus..." she murmured, nearly breathless. "This place just keeps getting better and better. How big is it?"

"Forty by eighty feet," Frank replied with a touch of pride in his voice. "This was Dad's pet project when we moved in."

It was the largest room in the house by far... possibly larger than some apartments. Towering windows stretched from floor to ceiling along the lake-facing wall, the blackout curtains drawn back to reveal Lower Genesee Lake shimmering under the early afternoon sun. Boats glided across the sparkling blue surface, and the breeze carried the sound of distant laughter.

The room's original purpose was a mystery... possibly a ballroom, maybe even a studio. Whatever it had been, the Hollises had transformed it. A massive projection screen dominated one end, matched by a cutting-edge digital projector at the other. Rows of plush theater seats... salvaged and modified from a closed local cinema... lined the room. Today, though, the space had been reconfigured with a sleek conference table and rolling chairs.

"It didn't always look like this," Frank added, watching as Bobbi set her bags down on the table.

"Oh?" she asked, glancing back at him with curiosity.

Frank smirked. "You want the full story?"

Bobbi leaned against the table and crossed her arms. "Always."

Frank's memory pulled him back, vivid and a little absurd.

The day they first toured the house, this room had been something else entirely.

He'd stood in the doorway with his parents and Mari, staring at rows of props, furniture, lighting rigs, and strange soundproofing. There were set pieces from different decades, camera mounts, and what appeared to be... very clearly... sex toys scattered across a shelf.

"Mom?" Frank asked in disbelief.

Cathy's voice was a low whisper. "Shit, Frankie... I think this was a porn studio."

"Mom... what?" he stammered.

She didn't answer, just shook her head slowly, scanning the racks of lube and lingerie like she was assessing ingredients in a recipe.

Across the room, Mari stood silently... back to them. When Frank stepped closer, he saw the sly grin on her face and the massive pink dildo she was holding. She stroked it with two fingers like she was examining a museum piece, before grasping it with her hand and stroking it. Her palm rolled over the head in practiced motion before sliding down the shaft. Mari sighed, her hand stroked the garish looking cock while her other hand gripped and squeezed the base of the shaft. Her fingers traced over the large balls before cupping them. Mari sighed...

She rolled her palm over the head with each upward caress of her hand. Her other hand wrapped around the base. She sighed..

"Hey, sis, whatcha doing?" Frank whispered into her ear.

Mari jumped, startled. She spun around, holding the toy between them before hiding it behind her back with a guilty smile and a light flush on her cheeks. "Just exploring," she muttered and vanished out of the room.

Their mom, ever the pragmatist, spoke up from the center of the room.

"Ted," she said, voice echoing in the space, "renovate the hell out of this room. Add whatever you need to the budget." She glanced at an array of sex toys as she walked toward the entrance. "And for the love of God, don't make me explain this to the Knights of Columbus wives. We're not turning it into a confessional booth either."

Frank chuckled softly at the memory. "Dad didn't even blink. Said he had the perfect vision for the space."

Bobbi laughed. "I love your mom. Did she really say that?"

"Oh yeah. And when dad asked if he had an open budget, she said, 'Yes, dear.' That was all he needed to hear."

Bobbi circled the table slowly, taking it all in again.

"Was there... anything left behind?" she asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Define 'anything.'"

Bobbi flashed him a wry grin.

Frank's mind flickered to the night Mari brought him an SSD drive.

He paused, then added, "I came back later. I figured maybe I'd find something worth salvaging. I found some flash drives and SD cards. Mari came back too, with her backpack."

"She wanted souvenirs?" Bobbi asked, smirking.

"Yup. Grabbed a few of the toys. She was disappointed, though."

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"She said the strap-on, the double-ended dildo, and a couple of big ones were missing. Thought maybe Mom took them."

Bobbi let out a wicked grin. "Did she?"

Frank laughed. "I think so. A week later, I saw the double-ended one under Mom's side of my parents' bed when I went in to grab a notebook."

Bobbi gave a delighted, throaty laugh. "Amazing. And what was on the cards?"

"Raw footage... tons of it. Unedited clips, full scenes, multiple takes. Some of it's hot. Mari found an SSD with rough cuts of full movies."

Frank hadn't told anyone what happened after he and Mari started watching the movies on that drive. How she removed her pajamas and then his. How she sat on the floor, using that pink dildo on herself, its thick girth stretching her as she rapidly plunged it deep until she came. Then how she climbed onto his lap, sweaty and wet. Her hot, velvet sheath engulfed him. How intense his orgasm was when he filled her. Mari shuddering, eyes rolling back into her head. And then how his Mom almost caught them, opening his door just after Mari had scooted into their shared bathroom. How her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at his flagging, dripping cock and told him he should lock his door.

"Frank?"

"Ah.. yeah?"

Bobbi's eyes gleamed. "We should watch them sometime. Can we stream them to the TV in the cottage?"

"Sure," Frank said, then wondered what she'd say if she knew what happened when Mari had brought him the drive that night.

But that thought disappeared as his gaze dropped to the strange tech Bobbi was assembling on the table... an elegant, circular device surrounded by sleek gear.

"What's all that?" he asked.

Bobbi looked up, catching his stare. "Part of my mobile holographic projection system," she said. "Mind if I pin some sensors to the walls and curtains?"

Frank nodded. "Go for it. The curtains stay open most of the time, just for the view. But we usually close them during presentations."

"Then let's flip that today," she said with a grin. "Close them for the meeting, and open them at the end for a dramatic reveal. Let that lake punch 'em in the face on their way out."

"I like it." Frank grinned. "You good in here? I'll go make you some breakfast."

Bobbi stood and walked to him, placing a hand on his cheek. With the other, she reached up and gently tugged his earlobe, pulling his head down... a move that felt startlingly familiar.

His mother did the exact same thing.

Bobbi kissed him softly. Not hungry or possessive... just warm. Grounding. Her forehead pressed to his.

"Francis Hollis," she said, her voice a whisper full of strength. "You're going to crush it today, just like you did this morning."

She giggled at her own double meaning, and Frank smiled, tension slipping from his shoulders.

"You be you. That's all you need. You're the biggest cock in the room... figuratively, and probably literally."

"I measure with my thighs. You're more than qualified," Bobbi added with a wry grin.

Frank snorted a laugh.

Bobbi kissed him again, just a little longer this time, then released him and turned back to her work.

He stood there for a moment, watching her, feeling that mix of awe and confidence rising in his chest again.

You be you.

That's what his mom had said to him that morning.

I wonder if she and Bobbi would get along. Actually, I'm a little afraid they'd get along too well.

Frank walked back toward the kitchen, lighter on his feet and ready for whatever the rest of the day would bring.

-- Chapter 3: Strange Magic

"You're walking meadows in my mind, making waves across my time..."

"I'm not lost in lust. I'm caught in something deeper... and I don't know how to climb out."

--Dr. Sister Rayna Simons

Dr. Sister Rayna Simons pulled into the roundabout drive of the sprawling lakeside mansion on Lower Genesee Lake at precisely 1:30. She parked her dependable old Corolla in one of the shaded spaces halfway up the circle, killed the engine, and sat in silence, staring at the house.

"That's not a house," she muttered. "That's a damn mansion."

She gazed at the two-story building with a mix of awe and trepidation, trying to identify the architectural style before other, more intrusive thoughts crept in. Flipping down the vanity mirror, she inspected her reflection: heart-shaped face, big brown eyes, pink shadow above her lashes, lips shimmering with gloss.

"What was I thinking?" she asked the woman staring back. "I never wear makeup like this."

Tilting the mirror, she glanced down at her blouse... tight, her breasts tugging at the buttons.

You're disgusting.

You're alive.

Rayna's eyes sparkled as she looked at herself.

"Am I really doing this?" she whispered. She leaned back in her seat and sighed.

"I hardly slept last night."

Frank had haunted her dreams again. And again, and again.

She grinned. "He came a lot... and so did I."

Rayna chuckled to herself. "Lustful," she said out loud. "That's the word. A lustful ache so deep it's consuming me."

Her thighs shifted, instinctively pressing together. The friction did little to ease the throbbing pulse between them. If anything, it made it worse.

Ted and Cathy will both be here... Am I really going to try and sneak into his room like some hormone-crazed teenager?

She wasn't a teenager. She was a nun. A scientist. A woman who once believed she'd mastered her desires. And none of this... not the heat in her belly, not the flush creeping up her neck... was supposed to feel this good.

But it did. God help her, it did.

She'd rationalized it all before. She wasn't technically celibate... her Order didn't demand it, and hadn't been since her quiet, years-long affair with Sister Maria. They weren't a couple; Maria had other partners, it was only about sex. They had shared a house, and a deep affection that sometimes turned into long nights of whispered confessions and slick thighs under tangled sheets. But Maria never awakened what Rayna was feeling now. Not like this.

Not this ache. This... hunger.

Even a weekend of unrestrained pleasure with Maria hadn't dulled it. If anything, it had stoked it into a bonfire. When she confessed as much, Maria had smiled knowingly, running her fingers along Rayna's ribs.'You need to be fucked, Ray.' Maria had said, her face slick with Rayna's juices. 'Thoroughly. By a man. Preferably your precious Frank. But at this point... any man might do. I know a guy who'll sell his soul to be with both of us.'

Rayna hadn't argued. Couldn't. She was too busy imagining it... not in vague fantasies, but in vivid, graphic detail: Frank's broad hands gripping her hips. His voice breaking when she took him in. The pressure. The stretch. The heat of it.

She looked down.

Her skirt had ridden up around her thighs. The crotch of her yellow thong was visibly damp... soaked through. She could feel the air against the wet fabric, clinging to her like a kiss.

My soul says stop. My body screams now.

"Shit," she muttered. "Shouldn't have touched myself on the way here." But then her fingers brushed over the damp lace, circling her nub pressing up through the fabric. Her body shuddered.

Stop this. Think of the order.

Think of his cock. Think of how you came screaming his name in the woods.

Rayna shook her head, her expression caught between shame and resignation.

"This is a bad idea. I should drive away, call Ted, and say I can't make it."

She looked back in the mirror. "No. I came for a reason. I can always leave early. But I need to see what happens."

Unfastening a couple more buttons, she parted her blouse and caught a glimpse of the smooth swell of her breasts.

"In for a penny, in for a pound, Mama always said," she smirked. "I'm going to get some this weekend. Maybe Frank. Maybe... my hairbrush. God, I hope it's Frank."

Rayna closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"I'll just say hi, stay professional... keep my eyes above his waist." She snorted softly. "Yeah, right."

She reached for her purse, grabbed a tissue, and dabbed at her inner thighs.

Just then, the familiar rumble of an old BMW rolled in beside her. Out stepped Dr. Thomas Ricter... colleague, academic sparring partner, and occasional pain in her ass... with a grin that could melt frost off a windshield.

Or maybe Tom, she thought, eyeing him. He's cute too.

Tom popped the trunk and turned toward her car just as she opened the door and stepped out. His gaze dropped... and froze.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath.

Rayna's caramel-toned leg extended from the car, her skirt still bunched at her waist. His eyes followed the smooth line of her thigh to the bright yellow thong that framed her mound.

"Crap."

She stood without noticing his stare, busy adjusting her blouse. Tom felt his cock stiffen as he caught the full view... Rayna's long, bare legs, the flash of panties, the curve of her hips. He ducked behind his trunk lid just as she stepped to the rear of her car, smoothing her skirt back down.

"Hello, Ray," he said with practiced ease, closing the trunk. "You're a sight for sore eyes. Looking fantastic. How's my favorite nun doing on this beautiful day?"

"Very well, thank you, Brother Tom," Rayna replied, her voice low, husky from too little sleep and too many thoughts she couldn't share.

They embraced... a friendly, professional hug, yet something about the way their bodies pressed sparked heat under her skin. Unsettling. Electric.

Rayna flushed, not from embarrassment but from something much deeper. Tom's eyes lingered on her chest. She knew it. She felt it. And she didn't mind.

She wanted to mind. But the warmth it sparked said otherwise.

He was tall and still athletic, with a mop of blonde hair that brushed his collar, now touched with distinguished gray at the temples. His orange polo shirt, emblazoned with a bold Chicago Bears logo, clashed slightly with his well-fitting tan chinos, the cut just snug enough to draw her gaze a moment too long, igniting a pulse of heat between her thighs.

"Like what you see?" Tom teased, catching her eye.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she shot back with a laugh. "Now I know why the Jesuits kicked you out."

He laughed with her. But as she giggled, the soft lace of her bra grazed her nipples, reigniting everything she had tried to suppress.

Rayna hadn't been with a man in years. Her religious and academic life had buried her desires under duties and modesty. But this weekend... something felt different. The coals had never really gone out... they were just waiting for air.

She wore that yellow blouse intentionally snug. She knew the three undone buttons showed more than a hint of cleavage. The tennis skirt had ridden higher than expected, and she didn't fix it fast enough. She wasn't just dressing for comfort. I wanted to be noticed.

And Tom noticed.

"I must say, I like your casual look," he said, his voice dipping.

Rayna smiled softly. "Thank you. I don't get to dress like this often."

"You should," Tom replied, eyes lingering. "It suits you."

He looked good too... maybe better than usual. She tried not to stare again, but the bulge in his pants demanded attention.

Had it grown? Or have I just grown bolder? Rayna wasn't sure who she was more aroused by... Tom's presence or her own permission to look.

Tom had never occupied her fantasies before, she rarely fantasized about men. Not like this. Not until Frank had opened the door inside her mind. And now, fantasies refused to be contained.

Frank Hollis, Ted's son... Eight years younger, tall, strong, intelligent. Her obsession had started with admiration and spiraled into erotic chaos. Since June, he'd lived in her mind, on repeat: touching her, tasting her, fucking her.

It had begun subtly, daydreams in the shower. But soon her fantasies were graphic, unrelenting. She'd masturbate to the memory of his body in a swimsuit, that massive bulge... clearly not erect. The implications made her dizzy.

One afternoon, she had nearly moaned his name out loud in the guest bathroom. She'd imagined his hands all over her, his cock in her mouth, her cunt clenching around him as he came deep inside.

She'd had weekends with Maria... wild, sensual, nonstop sex... but none of it dulled her need for Frank. If anything, it made it worse.

That very morning, she had awoken from another dream. Frank looming above her, cock slamming into her, her cunt gripping him tight. She had fingered herself to a soaking orgasm right there in bed, screaming his name into the silence.

This isn't spiritual crisis. This is sexual starvation.

And it wasn't just Frank. Cathy, Frank's mother, had stirred something, too.

Rayna still remembered walking onto the deck, margarita in hand, and seeing Cathy sitting there... legs crossed, body lounging in a barely-there white string bikini. The triangles of fabric barely covered her nipples. A narrow strip hugged her bare pussy lips. And when Cathy turned, the thong disappeared into the cleft of her toned ass.

Rayna had to fight not to gasp.

She had nearly drooled. The thought of burying her face between those firm cheeks made her nipples ache.

Later that day, as a "break" turned into an hour in the woods, Rayna had stripped down to her habit and masturbated furiously, screaming Frank's name until she collapsed on a bench in post-orgasmic stupor.

She lied about it later, saying she had been "exploring the serenity of the property." No one asked questions.

That night, she'd used Maria's dildo again. Again and again. Imagining Frank. Imagining him denying her, teasing her, fucking her into madness.

And now, here she was... face to face with Tom, whose gaze was no longer professional.

"Ray?" he asked. "Can I carry your bag?"

"Huh?" She blinked.

"Your suitcase? Are you okay? You look distracted."

"Oh... yes. Thank you." She paused. "I'm okay. Just... work stuff on my mind." A lie.

Then she gestured toward his shirt. "Trying to rile up Ted, wearing that Bears logo?"

Tom smirked. "Yeah, I want to bust his balls, see if I can throw him off his game."

"He's liable to throw you off the deck," she teased, hefting her laptop bag and heading for the house. Quietly, she said a prayer, asking forgiveness for the lies, for the lust, for everything.

Tom raised an eyebrow but didn't press. He simply picked up her suitcase and followed.

Tom was having his own crisis of conscience...

He had accepted Ted's invitation to stay a night or two, not because of the long drive back to Chicago or because Ray was staying. Tom accepted the invitation because he hoped to see Cathy, Ted's wife. He especially hoped to see Ted's tall, blonde Valkyrie wife in her bathing suit.

Tom would never dare to covet another man's wife, but that didn't prevent him from fantasizing about her. And Tom fantasized about Cathy frequently. She was a walking wet-dream, as was her equally alluring adult daughter, Mari. The thought of seeing these two women in bikinis, or better, naked, their pale Scandinavian bodies quivering and shaking in orgasm as he fucked them. Or their screams of ecstasy as he buried his cock deep into their cunts, filling them with his seed had fueled his fantasies and self-guided orgasms for weeks.

But now he was a bit shaken by Ray. He always thought she was an incredible researcher, a brilliant scientist, and a lovely woman, but today she seemed exceptionally beautiful. Ray was dressed far more casually than she had ever been, maybe even a bit provocatively, with her partially unbuttoned tight blouse. When they stood beside their cars, he found it difficult not to stare at her smooth, dark caramel-colored orbs. He's tried to recall if he had ever seen her legs above her ankles.

As Tom walked behind Rayna, his eyes gazed up her body. Following her across the drive, he marvelled at the flare of her hips and the slight sway in her round ass. He imagined his hands caressing and gripping her creamy milk chocolate round rear globes as he slowly entered her from behind, and feeling...

... and then everything shifted.

As they reached the stairs, Rayna stepped up first. Her skirt lifted.

Tom blinked. Once. Twice. His breath caught in his throat.

There was nothing under it. No slip. What he thought were yellow panties turned out to be a thong. The yellow lace, dark and damp, barely covered her labia, and the strap disappeared between her globes. Nothing covering her ass. Just smooth, bare flesh. The soft, rounded swell of her rear was fully visible beneath the swinging hem of her skirt.

For a heartbeat, time stopped. All sound dulled. All movement faded.

His cock throbbed against the seam of his chinos as raw heat surged through him.

Ray, the nun. Ray, his intellectual equal. Ray, with her ass bare and on display like a fevered hallucination made flesh. She had to know. She had to know what she was showing him. Unless... unless she didn't care.

Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to see.

That single thought cracked his restraint. His pulse spiked, hot and wrong. But he didn't look away.

His fantasies fractured, reshaped. Cathy, Mari... they vanished, burned away by the image before him. Now it was Ray he imagined pinned beneath him. Ray bent over a writing desk, her hands bracing for balance, blouse yanked open, skirt bunched around her waist. Her breathy gasps as he slid his cock inside her. Her caramel skin slick with sweat. Her moans muffled by his hand over her mouth, her eyes wild with the thrill of being taken... right here, right now, in this pristine home.

He pictured her pushing back against him, hips rocking, her voice whispering his name with sinful reverence. He imagined the tight clench of her wet pussy around his cock, imagined filling her again and again until she screamed and begged for more.

He gripped the handle of her suitcase harder, knuckles white, jaw clenched, his heart beating like a war drum in his chest.

This was wrong. Completely wrong.

And yet his eyes drank in every inch of the naked flesh revealed to him, branding it into memory.

He tried to blink it away. Tried to drag his mind back to reason, to professionalism, to control.

But her scent lingered in the air... something sweet and clean, like jasmine and skin. Her skirt swayed like an unspoken promise, and his mind refused to let go of the vision.

He wanted her. Right now. Right here.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The sudden chime jolted Tom back to the present. His fantasy shattered. He blinked, stumbling out of the storm inside his head.

Rayna stood at the top of the stairs, her finger just off the bell, her profile calm. Unaware.

Or perhaps not.

Tom swallowed, the pressure in his pants almost painful. He shifted the suitcase to hide it.

He forced a casual smile as she glanced back at him.

But behind that smile, his mind was still burning with the image of her bare ass and the forbidden thrill that came with wanting a woman who was supposed to be untouchable.

This weekend was going to be dangerous.

And neither of them was ready.

The ornate front door opened before Rayna could ring twice.

-- Chapter 4: I Put a Spell on You

"You know I can't stand it / You're running around / You know better, daddy..."

"She might call herself Sister, but there ain't a damn holy thing about those legs or that mouth."

--Dr. Thomas Richter

Frank was alerted to the cars entering the driveway by the security cameras. As the alert flashed across his phone, he quickly rinsed his hands and covered the cut vegetables he'd prepared. Spotting their silhouettes crossing the drive on the monitor, he wiped his palms on a towel and made for the front door. Frank stopped at the conference room to get Bobbi, but she was nowhere to be seen. The bell rang just as his hand touched the handle.

His breath caught when he opened it.

Standing in the center of the threshold was Dr. Sister Rayna Simons. Her light blouse parted just enough to reveal the smooth upper swell of her breasts, and her skirt was short... Bobbi-short, he thought, surprised. She looked radiant. Frank hardly noticed Dr. Thomas Richter standing just behind her.

"Dr. Simons, welcome... please, come in, come in," Frank greeted them with polite formality. "Dr. Richter, welcome to our home."

He stepped back half a pace to allow them inside. The two committee members entered the expansive foyer, and Frank extended his hand in greeting. Rayna bypassed it and pulled him into a hug.

"Hello, Francis. Good to see you again." Her voice was warm. Confident. Familiar.

Frank's back stiffened slightly, and something else stirred when her breasts pressed into his chest. She held the hug a beat too long... intentional, maybe? before releasing him. He blinked, unsure how to respond.

Tom stepped forward, offering a vigorous handshake. "I'll settle for a handshake," he quipped. "And let's drop the formal shit, Frankie boy. Call me Tom. The meeting's only two hours. The rest of the weekend? I plan to enjoy it."

Rayna nodded, a faint grin on her lips. "Yes. For two hours, I'm Dr. Simons. For the rest? I'm Rayna. I left my habit at home. I'm here to relax."

Frank chuckled, still off-balance. "Fair enough. Rayna. Tom. Follow me... I'll show you to your rooms." Frank picked up the bag that Tom had set down, which had a floral design, and assumed it belonged to Rayna.

He turned and led them to the grand staircase.

The Hollis mansion loomed around them, a testament not to generational wealth but to his father's talent for real estate investment. Even so, every room exuded quiet opulence. As they crossed the grand foyer, Rayna's eyes widened in appreciation. She had been here before, but still, the space stunned her.

But not more than Frank did.

As she followed him up the first marble step, her eyes dropped to his broad back, the flex of muscle beneath the simple polo, the curve of his ass in those fitted slacks. God, he looks so fucking good. Her breath quickened, and the heat between her legs stirred again.

I want to ride him. Right here, right on the stairs. Let Tom watch... let anyone watch.

The nun in her recoiled. The woman in her didn't care.

She imagined reaching out, grabbing Frank by the hips, pulling him back against her as she lowered herself to her knees. She imagined her mouth wrapping around his cock, tasting him, moaning softly as he grew harder in her throat. She pictured herself bent over that curved banister, skirt hiked, his cock filling her again and again, his strong hands wrapped around her wrists to hold her still as he took what she had longed to give.

Her breath hitched.

Control yourself, she hissed silently. You're not here for that.

And yet she couldn't stop the heat pulsing between her thighs.

Frank's cock inside me. His breath on my neck. His cum soaking my pussy...

But just as the spiral threatened to take her down, the surroundings overtook her.

The domed ceiling above them, the elegant white walls, the gleam of the chandelier on polished marble... it all struck her again like a first-time visitor. Rayna reached out, fingers grazing the wrought-iron banister, grounding herself in the cold, intricate metal. The house was stunning. Powerful. Like Frank, it projected calm control... but there was wildness behind the polish.

She straightened up, forcing the flood of images back into their dark corner. Her heartbeat slowed, though the wetness in her panties was undeniable.

Tom, meanwhile, took in the space differently. His gaze moved quickly past the architectural grandeur and focused instead on the sway of Rayna's hips as she ascended the first step. He was still reeling from what he'd seen before they entered... her bare thighs, the flash of her yellow thong... and it was burned into his brain like a brand.

Then it happened again.

Rayna climbed another step, and her skirt lifted just enough to reveal the soft, unblemished roundness of her dark caramel ass... bare and perfect. The thong had disappeared completely, swallowed between her globes. Tom's mouth went dry.

Jesus Christ.

His mind spiraled into fantasy, his earlier thoughts of Cathy and Mari crumbling like old paper under the blaze of this new image. He pictured himself pressing Rayna into the railing, yanking her blouse open, her breasts spilling into his hands. Her mouth moaning his name as he pushed her skirt up and entered her... slow and deep. She'd grip the rail for support, her body arching back into him, skin hot and trembling.

Rayna bent over a polished desk... skirt hiked... eyes closed in ecstasy...

He gripped the handle of her suitcase a little tighter, jaw set, his cock straining in his pants. He felt both ashamed and utterly powerless.

She was a nun. An academic. A colleague. But at that moment, she was something else entirely... pure temptation wrapped in confidence and honey-brown skin.

I should look away. But he didn't. Couldn't.

As if unaware of what she had revealed... or perfectly aware... Rayna reached the landing and turned, her brow furrowed.

"Frank, where are your parents?" she asked softly.

Frank paused, his hand on the banister. "They were called away this morning," he said, his tone shifting to something more solemn. "My grandmother fell last night. Broke her arm. Some bruises, too. She's in the hospital, but she'll be okay. She's a tough old broad. They're with her in Mt. Prospect for the next few days."

Rayna's eyes softened. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Tom nodded, pulling himself back to reality. "That's awful. I hope she recovers quickly."

Frank gave a grateful nod. "Thanks. The meeting's still on schedule. I'll lead the committee today... Dr. Baxter's already arrived."

They reached the top of the stairs. Frank gestured down the east wings. "Tom, your room is the first door on the right." He gestured to his left. "Rayna, yours is the first door on the left. Both rooms have their own en-suite and a view of the lake. Mom made sure you had everything you might need."

Tom moved toward his room.

"I expect you two will want to freshen up a bit," Frank said, looking at his watch. "No, hurry. Lunch will be ready at 2:30, that gives you over thirty minutes."

He led Rayna to her room andopened the door. "This is yours. Hope it's to your liking."

Rayna gasped as she stepped inside.

A massive four-poster bed commanded the room, draped in ivory linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the lake. A soft couch sat beside a bookshelf. A desk with a reading lamp nestled beneath an antique painting. It was elegant, serene... almost sensual in its luxury.

"There's an ensuite through that door," Frank added. "Each guest room has one for comfort and privacy.

Turning back to Frank, she smiled. "Thanks, Frank. This is perfect."

"Mom wanted everyone to be comfortable. Everything you would need, including an ironing board."

"She has excellent taste.

"This is your bag, right?" Frank set the bag on the floor.

"Yes. Thank you." Rayna took the handle, her voice soft. She was still soaking in the beauty of the room.

"Then I'll leave you to freshen up," Frank said, and left.

Tom stood inside the door to his room and stared at the opulence of his suite. It was a near-mirror of Rayna's suite, equally luxurious.

Rayna and Tom stood alone in their rooms, the silence echoing the energy they tried to suppress.

Each of them fought to focus on the meeting ahead. But both knew that their desires weren't going to vanish just because a door had closed. They were here now, in a place of indulgence and freedom, and temptation walked these halls with them.

-- Chapter 5: Closer

"I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside."

"For the first time, she didn't see sin. She saw hunger... hers."

--Dr. Sister Rayna Simons

Rayna knelt beside the bed... not in prayer, but in meditative silence. She didn't want to pray, didn't deserve to pray, not with the thoughts she harbored or the heat coursing through her blood. She wanted to calm herself, center herself, focus on the duty ahead.

Today is about the committee meeting. Not desire.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, slowly, letting it fill her lungs, then exhaled until her chest was empty. Again. Deep in, slow out. She kept at it for minutes, forcing Frank, Tom, Cathy, and every forbidden lust into a neat little box in her mind. Contained. Controlled.

She opened her eyes, feeling somewhat victorious... only the committee and the Door County land were at the forefront.

Then she remembered... she needed to ask Tom about the environmental study she had emailed him. No reply yet.

Rayna jumped up, hurried down the hall, and without thinking, without knocking, flung open Tom's door.

"Tom! Did you read the study..."

Three strides in, she froze.

Tom lay naked on the bed, cock in hand, mid-stroke.

He bolted upright, as if caught in a spotlight. "Ray! What the hell..."

"Crap, Tom, I'm sorry, I..."

The door clicked shut behind her. The sound rang like a cymbal crash... and the little boxes in her mind burst apart.

For a breathless moment, they stared at each other.

Why am I staring at him?

LEAVE! This is wrong!

He's hard. And he's beautiful,

Rayna thought as her body betrayed her, stepping forward. Her fingers found the buttons of her blouse, slowly slipping them free.

"Ray, what are you..." Tom's whisper was almost a prayer.

Oh my god... what is she doing?

"Hush," she ordered, a step closer. The blouse slid from her shoulders. Another step... she unzipped her skirt with agonizing slowness. She didn't want him to speak. Words might shatter this forbidden magic.

Tom's hungry gaze burned into her... his eyes locked onto the delicate light-yellow lace of her half-bra, the faint triangle of lace between her thighs.

One more step, and she was at the bed's edge. She unfastened the clasp of her bra; it slid down her arms and pooled at her feet.

"Ray... my God... you're..." Tom's voice broke, thick with awe. "Are you... sure?"

Rayna's lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.

"Is this what your eyes wanted to see in the driveway?" she purred, voice thick as honey. She cupped her breasts, thumbs circling the stiffening peaks, teasing herself as his jaw dropped.

"I saw your stiff cock in your shorts," she murmured, crawling onto the bed with predatory grace. "I got so wet thinking about how you might feel inside me."

Tom's words choked off. He could only watch, frozen, as Rayna wrapped her hand around his rigid cock and stroked him slowly, sensually, rediscovering the simple, electric weight of a man's flesh in her hand after so many years.

Frank would be bigger, she mused, stroking the length, pulling back his foreskin, marveling at his clean-shaven sex. Her grip tightened, feeling him throb against her palm. But this... this will be perfect for practice.

This wasn't what she came for... but maybe it was what she needed.

Tom's hand roamed up her thigh, trembling, squeezing the ass he had admired on their walk up to the front door.

"Oh fuck, Ray..." he groaned as she dipped her head and slid her lips around the crown of his cock.

Rayna moaned low in her throat, sucking him deep into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the velvety head, tracing every ridge and vein, stroking him with hands and mouth until Tom gasped and bucked beneath her.

His fingers found her thong, sliding under the damp lace to the slick, swollen lips of her pussy.

"Jesus, you're so wet," he panted.

Rayna's dark eyes burned into his. She let his cock fall from her mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting them for a tantalizing moment, then swung one thigh over his waist, straddling him.

Pulling her thong aside, she guided his cockhead to her entrance.

"Were you fantasizing about fucking me, Brother Tom?" she growled, her voice low and dangerous.

"Yes..." he breathed, a confession and a plea.

"Tell me you want this," she whispered. "Tell me you'll still see me after."

"I want you..."

Rayna slid the tip of his cock through her wet folds, soaking him with her need. She paused, feeling the thick head press against her opening.

"Will I be your first nun?" she whispered, the words sinful against his ear.

"Yes..." he groaned again, almost breaking.

Rayna smiled... dark, victorious... and sank down, impaling herself on his hard shaft with a guttural moan.

"Ohhh, sweet Jesus..." she sighed, clutching his shoulders, trembling.

For a long, blissful moment, they stayed like that... joined, breathing hard, absorbing the illicit reality of it. Rayna felt gloriously full, his cock stretching and pulsing inside her.

Tom slid his hands up her sides, worshipping every curve, every forbidden inch. His thumbs brushed her taut nipples, pinching them gently until she gasped.

Rayna rolled her hips, slow, grinding circles at first, then harder, faster. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her clit ground against his pubic bone, each thrust sending sharp pleasure crackling up her spine.

"Ray..." Tom groaned, helpless under her.

Rayna was relentless, riding him like a storm... hips bucking, sweat gleaming on her skin, hair wild around her face. She caught his mouth with hers in a bruising kiss, devouring him, tasting the mingled salt of their sweat.

Tom bucked up into her, lost in her, feeling her muscles clutch his cock as she convulsed in a screaming orgasm, her body writhing against him.

Rayna collapsed onto his chest, trembling, gasping for air.

Tom flipped them in one swift move, pinning her wrists above her head, his cock still buried deep inside her soaked cunt.

Rayna spread her legs wide, wanton, panting, her caramel skin glowing with sweat and desire.

"Fuck me hard, Brother Tom," she taunted, her voice ragged. "Make me cum again."

Tom growled and hooked her legs over his arms, lifting her hips, slamming into her in desperate, punishing thrusts.

---

Meanwhile, Frank went out to the outside kitchen to prepare lunch. Setting down the trays, he looked up and saw Bobbie... Lying on her back, naked, sunbathing on a lounge chair, her lightly tanned skin glistening under the sun.

He cursed under his breath as his cock stiffened painfully against his shorts.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Catching some rays," Bobbi said lazily without even turning her head.

"You're naked..."

"All-over tan. Relax, Frankie. You said lunch is at 2:30, right? We've got time."

"But they'll see you!"

"No, they won't, I'll be finished by the time they get down here. Chill."

Frank muttered a curse but went back to the grill. Every stolen glance at her body only made his shorts tighter.

She has her own mind. But I know where all her piercings are now.

Bobbi flipped onto her stomach, setting another ten-minute alarm. Somewhere over the soft sizzle of the grill and the whispering trees, she thought she heard a faint moan. Maybe a scream. She smiled. Maybe it was just the wind. Maybe not. She didn't care either way.

A few minutes later, movement caught Bobbi's eye. Without moving, she shifted her gaze to the second-floor window.

Oh, hello...

A tall, slender woman stood there, naked, looking down at her. The woman's golden-brown skin glowed in the sunlight like perfectly toasted bread. Pale vertical streaks shimmered across her gorgeous body. Her hands smeared it across her round breasts.

I know what that is.

The woman's gaze drifted to Frank and stayed there. Bobbi rolled to her side, peering over the top of her Ray-Bans at the figure in the window. When the woman looked back down at Bobbi and realized she was being watched, she froze and stepped back quickly.

Bobbi lay back again, letting the sun bake her backside.

This is an interesting development.

---

Back inside, Tom felt himself on the verge.

"Oh, fucking Christ," he grunted, pistoning into Rayna's quivering body.

"Ray... Ray... I can't hold back..."

"Give it to me, Brother Tom," Rayna moaned through her teeth. "Fill this Sister with your sin... your unholy seed."

That was all it took.

Tom rammed deep one final time and exploded inside her with a roar, thick jets of hot cum flooding her clenching pussy.

"OH, GOD, YES!" Rayna cried, feeling him explode inside her. Her muscles convulsed with another orgasm.

She's probably not on birth control, some faint part of his mind warned... too late.

A second pulse shuddered out of him, but this time he pulled free, gasping, several ropes of semen across Rayna's belly and breasts, painting her caramel skin with his lust.

"No! Don't pull out!" Rayna groaned.

Tom knelt, back straight, holding Rayna's legs, face toward the heavens. A long, "AH..." rising from inside him. Rayna's eyes fixed on Tom's cock as it flexed, bending shaprly at the base before releasing a thick stream of his seed up the length of her body. The long rope of white cum falling short of her face as it splashed against her sweat-soaked skin. No sooner had one stream landed, then his cock flexed again sending another. And another. Rayna writhed as she felt the heat of his cum splatter her skin, triggering another orgasm shook her to her core.

"OH, Jesus..." she cried, convulsing on the bed.

Finally, Tom's orgasm ended with one last pulse that coated her mound, clit, and ran between her folds. Tom's eyes met hers, spent, silent, he collapsed beside her.

Rayna, panting, turned and kissed him hard, her tongue darted into his open mouth. Then, quickly sitting up, she gazed over their sweaty bodies.

Did I really just do this? Did we just do this? Rayna rubbed her hand over her mound, still trembling from her orgasms. She rose on shaky legs.

"Holy hell..." she breathed, smearing his cum across her body as she stumbled toward the window.

"Jesus, Ray..." Tom gasped. "That was amazing."

Then she froze.

Outside, a blonde girl lay naked in the sun, and Frank was sneaking glances. Rayna's stomach twisted.

That's not Mari. That must be Frank's girlfriend.

Plans she hadn't even dared to admit to herself... hopes carefully buried... crumbled silently.

Rayna's gaze shifted back to the girl. She was now propped on her side, looking over her sunglasses at her, smiling.

Shit. Rayna stepped back from the window, heart racing. The image of the girl's full breasts and blonde muff burned into her mind.

"Something wrong?" Tom asked.

Rayna turned to see Tom sitting up, dazed.

"No, but don't think this means you get me whenever you want," she said sharply, gathering her clothes. "But you'll probably get a few more chances this weekend."

Naked, clothes bundled in her arms, Rayna disappeared down the hall.

Tom watched her go... stunned, aching, and already half-hard again. He rose shakily and stepped over to the window to see what had jolted Rayna.

WHOA! What's this? Tom thought as he gazed down on the naked blonde.

Movement caught his eye, and he shifted his gaze to Frank at the grill. Frank looked at the blonde and said something. The windows muted the sound, and Tom couldn't tell what he said. He glanced back at the girl, her head turned, saying something to Frank. Then she rolled on her back and rubbed her hand between her spread legs.

Fucking Christ! His hand instinctively took hold of his cock.

Tom glanced between the girl and Frank; they seemed to be having an animated discussion.

Then the girl looked directly at Tom.

Damnmit!

Stepping back from the window, Tom's breathing was elevated, as was his cock. He slowed his breathing and headed for the shower, still trying to believe what had just happened with Rayna.

Who was that girl?

---

There you are... Bobbi saw the naked man in the window.

Brother Tom, did you just fuck Sister Rayna?

"Hey, get dressed, they'll be here any minute," Frank chided Bobbi.

"Are you afraid the naked Dr. Bobbi Baxter will blow their minds?"

"Yes, get dressed."

"I have a better idea. Put down those cooking tools and come give me your big tool," Bobbi rolled on her back for Frank... and Tom. "I've been thinking about this morning and I'm wet and ready. I'm sure we have time for a quickie." Spreadig her knees she rubbed her glistening pussy.

"Bobbi!" Frank sounded exasperated.

"Awe... you're no fun," Bobbi teased and looked at Tom, slowly stroking his stiffening cock. Then he saw her glance and backed away from the window.

Good to know he has a quick recovery time, She chuckled to herself.

---

Rayna ran down the hallway.

I can't believe I just told him I'd fuck him again this weekend.

She slammed her door shut behind her and tossed her clothes onto the floor. She dropped to her knees, hands clasped this time... in prayer.

Asking forgiveness. For her sin. For her carnal hunger. For fucking her colleague... and loving every second of it.

She couldn't believe what she had done.

She reveled in what she had done.

This wasn't her... but it was. She'd been like this with Maria. But now it was a man. Brother Thomas, of all people.

It was so good. So bad. She felt ashamed. She felt exposed. She felt... more alive than she had in years.

Her obsessive fixation on Frank seemed to have receded, quenched... for now.

Maybe Maria was right... any man would do.

Or maybe...

It was that tart lying naked on the deck.

Rayna rose from her knees and walked to the bathroom.

She needed a shower. A long one.

________________________________

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