The nunnery was an ancient structure, its stone walls cold and damp even in the summer heat.

The shadows seemed to dance in the corners, the darkness never quite reaching the flickering candlelight from the small chapel.

The girls living there were all young, some barely even teenagers, each of them dressed in simple, modest habits befitting their station and vows.

You were one of them, a petite girl with wide, expressive eyes.

Despite the piety and devoutness that enveloped you, you couldn't shake the sinful and lustful thoughts that had been tormenting you for days.

It was the handsome priest, Father Jon, the one who led your nightly prayers, his handsome face and gentle voice stirring things within you that you dare not name.

Much older, but aged like fine wine.