12. Celine #2
I lost track of time cleaning and missed dinner.
It’s fine, though. After dusting, which I had only gotten to not even half of the shelves, I was so exhausted that I just wanted to go back to my room and relax.
A bath would be wonderful, but since the convent has a communal bathroom, showers are the only option.
It works just as well. The heat from the shower helps soothe the sore muscles in my shoulders. I scrub my body with soap and shampoo my hair twice to remove any dust that has clung to my skin and hair.
After a well-needed wash, I head back to my room and slip on my nightgown before lying down in bed. I stare up at the ceiling, knowing that even though my body is exhausted, my brain isn’t. I know for a fact that even if I close my eyes, I won’t be able to fall asleep.
Usually, when this happens, I exhaust myself with my favorite toy. I use it over and over until my mind can’t take any more and shuts down. Sadly, I can’t do that now because that toy is at home. I let out an annoyed breath and allow the hand that is lying flat against my stomach to wander south.
It’s a sin to touch yourself.
When I was eighteen, and all the kids around me were exploring each other’s bodies, my parents made sure to drill it into my mind that not only was sex before marriage a sin, but also masturbation.
They thought getting it into my head that touching yourself was bad would scare me enough that I would never do it.
Their words didn’t scare me as much as they thought.
It is one thing to sin by touching yourself, but doing it while in a convent? The idea is thrilling, and as I begin to pull up my dress, my eye catches the picture of Jesus hanging on my wall.
Sitting up, I grab the frame and hide it in my dresser. Once I lie back down, I let out a sigh of relief as my hand dips beneath my dress.
I rub over the cotton underwear, teasing myself because, for some reason, I’ve always loved to. There is something about not giving in to the pleasure I’m dying for right away. I love getting myself so worked up that I’m desperate for a release.
The circles I draw are slow and light as I barely touch the sensitive area. My lips part as I begin breathing heavier, anticipating the next move. I hold the same motion for a few more seconds before pressing harder, speeding up my fingers.
Pleasure shoots through me, causing my eyes to close, and when they do, Father Alexander’s face is the only thing I see. I quickly open my eyes, stopping the motion of my fingers, and my brows dip in horror.
Sure, he is attractive… okay, very attractive, but it’s wrong to be thinking about a priest while touching myself.
Unless I imagine that he isn’t a priest.
Swallowing hard, I resume the motion of my fingers. No one but me has to know that I’m picturing him while I do this.
I steady my breathing and shut my eyes again. This time, when I picture Father Alexander, he isn’t wearing his priestly attire. Instead, he is wearing a black Henley and dark jeans, standing at the end of my bed at home.
His eyes drop to the space between my thighs, and he watches attentively as I rub my clit. He licks his bottom lip while his hand meets the bulge in his pants. He slowly begins to massage himself, and the thought of him doing that almost sends me over the edge.
“You going to come that easily?” I picture him asking in my mind. I shake my head in response because there is no one to really answer to. “Work for it, Celine.”
I bite my lip, keeping my fingers on my clit while my other hand finds my entrance. I slide two fingers in, then begin driving them in and out continuously.
“That’s it, Celine.” His deep voice coaxes me. “Keep fucking yourself with your fingers… just like that.”
I go faster at his demand, the pleasure building from imagining his filthy words.
“Alex,” I utter his name desperately.
In my head, he kneels on the bed and grabs my wrist with his hand. He guides my fingers in and out while keeping eye contact. I’m a panting mess and about to plummet over the edge when I hear a knock at my door.
The sinful fantasy blows away like smoke, and my eyes fly open. I jump out of bed, chest heaving, and I take a moment to inhale a few deep breaths to compose myself.
When I finally open the door, my heart stops as I stare into the eyes that were just looking into mine in my daydream.
I bit the inside of my cheek, diverting my eyes from his stare and to his hands, which are holding a plate of food.
“What are you doing here?”
“I noticed you weren’t at dinner.” He holds the plate out for me. “I wanted to bring you food, so you weren’t going to bed hungry.”
“ I—uh—” my hand scratches at the back of my neck as I try to form words, “I lost track of time cleaning in the library and wasn’t hungry anyway.”
“Are you okay?” he asks with genuine concern. “You looked flushed. Are you not feeling well?”
My heart starts racing again. What if he heard me call out his name? No, there is no way. It slipped out quietly and happened way before he knocked on my door.
“I’m fine. I was just… exercising.”
“In your nightgown?” He asks slowly.
“Well, they didn’t give me gym attire. I’m working with what I have.”
“You were working out?” I nod with a hum. “Then that means you need food to fuel your body.”
I take the plate out of his hand and turn to set it on my dresser.
When I face the door again, Father Alexander is looking towards my bed.
His brows furrow, and I glance over to see what he sees.
There is a faded spot on the wall where the frame used to be.
How long had it been there for us to see the discoloration on the wall?
Looking back at Father Alexander, he lifts an eyebrow in question. “It felt like he was watching me sleep.”
The lie comes out quick but smooth, and he nods as if he believes me.
“Eat your food and get some rest, Celine.”
He steps back, turning on his heels, and walks away from my room. It takes me a second to shut the door, but when I do, I turn off the light and bypass the food sitting on the dresser.
If I had any ounce of an appetite before, I sure as hell don’t have one now.
Climbing under the covers, I lie on my side and stare at the wall and wait for sleep to drag me into the darkness.