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Trains, Hotels, and Names

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Sister Aloysius’s heart pounded so hard she thought she might pass out. She and Sister James had taken the train to Hempstead and had procured a hotel room.

Sister James had been silent for most of the trip. Most people paid the two nuns no mind and they certainly wouldn’t suspect that the pair had travelled to another city for the express purpose of spending the night together.

Aloysius set the keys down on the bureau and removed her wrap. “Do you still…” She let the question trail off, watched Sister James let her hair down, red waves cascading mesmerizingly.


Sister James stepped up to Aloysius, so close that the older woman could feel her body heat radiating. The young nun reached up and gently pulled Aloysius’s bonnet away from her hair and uncurled the tight bun. Aloysius’s once blonde hair was streaked with silver; it was thick and straight and Sister James fluffed the mass of hair playfully.

The simple act of standing in front of Sister James with her hair free and unbound had a profound calming effect on her.

Sister James pressed her lips to Aloysius’s. Aloysius wrapped her arms around Sister James, leaning into the embrace.


Nimble fingers undid heavy buttons deftly, the holy habit loosening and falling away from Aloysius’s frame. Soon the older nun was standing in only her underskirts.

“You are so beautiful.” Sister James whispered. She cupped her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. “Sister, may I call you Aloysius?”

“You may call me Ally, if you wish.” Aloysius whispered back.

Sister James beamed. Aloysius felt her knees weaken under the warmth of the smile. “And you may call me Jennifer.”

Aloysius captured Sister James’s lips, her tongue shyly testing her boundaries and Sister James offered no resistance.


All the garments lay in a heap on the floor of the modest hotel room and the two women lay entwined on the bed.

Aloysius’s fingers trailed lazy patterns over taut, freckled skin. Sister James shivered under the contact. Her hands cupped the older woman’s breast, absently teasing her nipple.

They kissed and touched and explored each other’s bodies boldly. Here in this hotel, they were Ally and Jennifer. Stripped out of their habits, they were no longer sisters who were breaking their vows. Tomorrow things would be difficult again but today they didn’t have a care in the world.


“Ally.” Sister James repeated, savoring the way it felt to form the word. Her fingers slid through Aloysius’s light blonde hair. “Ally…”

Aloysius placed kisses reverently along Sister James’s lightly freckled collarbone.

“Jennifer.” Aloysius whispered back, burying her face in Sister James’s hair. “You are so beautiful.” She cupped the younger woman’s cheek and tilted toward her and captured her lips.

Sister James deepened the kiss. She wanted to memorize everything about the way the older woman tasted and smelled; what she felt like to kiss and caress. Back at the convent they would never get this amount of privacy.


Aloysius’s fingers teased the strawberry blonde curls between Sister James’s legs. She sucked in a breath; she’d never been touched like this but already she craved more.

“Please, Ally.” She whispered, “please.”

Aloysius dipped two fingers into Sister James and used those two fingers to make tight circles over the younger woman’s clit.

Sister James bit her lip. The pleasure was intense and she felt a pressure building inside of her nearly immediately.

“Come for me, Jennifer.” Aloysius kissed her jaw softly.

“Ally!” Sister James gasped. She gripped the sheets until her knuckles went white, letting out a silent scream.


It was literally another life ago that Sister James had been just Jennifer. Ever since the night that Sister James had spent the night with Sister Aloysius in Hempstead, when she’d invited Aloysius to call her by her given name, she felt like a girl again.

She felt a blush in her cheeks every time she remembered what it was like to hear Aloysius call her Jennifer. Every time she’d moaned Ally while Aloysius touched her was replayed in her dreams.

Sister James longed for another night. Another hour, even. The idea that that was it for them was unpalatable.