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Project Passion
     
    Dusty Miller
     
    Copyright 2013 Dusty Miller
    This Smashwords Edition was published
by Dusty Miller
    Image Copyright 2013 Dusty
Miller
    ISBN 978-9918999-3-7
     
    http://hotboox.blogspot.ca/
     
    The following is a work of fiction. Any
resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or
events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters
and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The
author’s moral right has been asserted.
     
    This ebook is licensed for your
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    Project Passion
     
    Dusty Miller
     
     
    Five minutes to pull into a truck
stop, take a small bag into the restroom, and then it was out of
the habit and into ordinary, even drab street clothes. Phase One
complete. She was free. It was her life and she had dreams. She
also had some rights. What a long strange trip it had been just to
get this far.
    Normally she would be teaching third
grade at St. Francis Xavier Girl’s Academy for about six and a half
hours a day, but the rest of her time was taken up by the daily
prayer rituals, feasts and holiday observances, or household
duties, which were little better than maid work in their communal
existence. She went to Mass every day. Four hours in the car were
hardly a respite.
    She’d had too much time to
think.
    Sister Heather was frankly terrified
as she stumbled about putting up camp. Her hair, healthy and thick,
was her best asset for what lay ahead. Otherwise she was pretty
unremarkable as far as sexy women went. That was one problem. Tall,
fairly fit, used to being on her own a lot of the time, and having
been through a few tough spots in the vale of tears that was this
life, she was having a hard time with the thoughts and fears of
what might happen. Or worse almost, what might not happen. It was
hard to convince herself that she could live with a failure. It was
equally hard to believe that she could succeed. This was her first
serious attempt.
    There was a lot that could go
wrong.
    It all began innocently enough. Not
that the desire for raunchy sex with a man was innocent—it was far
from it, but Heather had fantasized about what sex might be like
since she was very young. It was a priest she was in love with at
the time who did that for her. It led to discovery. The thoughts
she had entertained towards him! It was mental pornography. She had
tried to imagine herself, beautiful, sensuous, raven-haired and so
cool and sure. Thoughts of his dark olive skin, curling
mustache…and with Father Alan or even some other man, perhaps
hairier and more strongly built, making love to her...rather. The
first orgasm scared her. The revelation was that she liked it. The
sort of misgivings that it also aroused were predictable and she
wondered how to ever get beyond that.
    Why didn’t she have any
guts?
    For years it simmered on the back
burner of her sexual consciousness, bubbling along at the level of
private fantasy. One which she indulged in her solitude from time
to time, although God knew it was wrong. But not to do it was so
very much worse.
    Sex did wonderful things for her body
and her soul and that was undeniable.
    Who knew, maybe it was understandable
at some level. She was a lonely kid back then, and a horny
teenager. It was the experimentation, and the discovery that it
brought a pretty big bang for the buck, as the saying went. But she
was in Orders. It was forbidden. Jesus Murphy, it was
sin.
    This brought an awkward smile in the
midst of driving in the tent-pegs.
    It was the forbidden fruit, the
nameless and atavistic