Chapter 18

Dom was locking up his office on North Michigan Avenue, one sultry Friday night, when the phone rang.

"Hello? Dr. Davis? I hope you remember me. Sr. Francie Casey," Her mellifluous voice was firm...but somehow hesitant.

"Yes. You're unforgettable. You are the beautiful brunette nun sitting in the front row of my recent seminar at Dominican College."

"Thanks for remembering me. I just knew you would. It was a great seminar. We're all still talking about it....I'll be in the loop tomorrow...I was hoping you could spare me some time. Please?"

"Yes, My last client just canceled. Par for the course on Saturdays. How do you feel about one p.m.? You could have as much free time as you want. Wow.....You get a deal. What a deal! Nuns are FOR FREE!"

"Great! I'll be there!" Her exuberance gushed through the phone.

Sr. Francie Casey. O.P., was prompt. Aren't all nuns on time? he thought. They taught me that in grade school Now, thanks to the good Franciscan nuns. I can never be late for anything, except my own death, if I could. Dressed in a smartly tailored dark blue suit, Sister Francie sat nun-like on the couch of his large executive offices. Her figure was slightly hidden by the suit, but truly perfect. She looked about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. "We just got permission to doff our `penguin pairs' and wear business suits."

"Wow!" Dom let out a long, low whistle.

"I'll come right to the point, Doctor, since I know you're busy. Yours was the very best HUMAN RELATIONS seminar I ever had. You opened my eyes to many things. I've been thinking about leaving the convent for some time. I want you to help me." Eyes wide-open, she leaned forward, pleadingly.

"Sure. Tell me how." Dom's curiosity didn't prevent him from observing her quiet attractiveness, which was more important to him than anything else at the present moment. God, Oh God, he thought, she is so beautiful, I could listen to her for years, for free. How will I ever avoid thinking about sex with her, when I should be listening intently to her real problems.

"Well, I was surprised when you confessed about your background in the priesthood and your recent divorce last December"...long pause..." I only kissed...kissed ONLY!....in high school and college"...longer pause..."I was hoping you could eventually tell me how you discovered sex and got involved...But only AFTER YOU Do MORE!"

"More what? I could enjoy listening to you all day, all night, all weekend. What do you mean?" He stretched back in his big easy chair.

"I don't want to rush you or rush us. but I want you to seduce me...I really mean it...I WANT YOU TO SEDUCE ME RIGHT HERE AND NOW! ... And have an affair." Francie leaned forward as she spoke and slowly kicked off her black shoes. Then she tucked her feet daintily under her shapely derriere, in exactly the same way Robin had always done.

"I can't believe you! SISTER! Is this a game?" Dom couldn't imagine such an open offer, even from a Playboy bunny, let alone from a real, still "Honest-to-God," fully-envowed Dominican, just out of a penguin-habit, nun.

"Yes, I mean it. I'm about ninety-nine percent certain I should quit. I've been in the convent about six years now. Final vows are inches around the corner...A minor sin of inordinate pleasures now might prevent major sins against major vows later..." She sighed, opened her gorgeous blue eyes very wide..... and looked him straight in the eyes. "Besides, no matter what, you could always give me absolution."

Dom laughed then sighed: "Please tell me more about it. You are VERY INTRIGUING! OR SHOULD I SAY, ENCHANTING?" Dom's fantasies were racing ahead on fast forward. He had a hard time paying attention to her words.

"I never was really attracted to any man before now. I thought, perhaps...I was becoming a nun by default. BUTDE- FAULT WAS MINE! I guess I never met enough men or just the right man!" True confessions.

Dom began to wonder just how virginal she was. This is unreal, totally phenomenal, he thought. Nobody would believe me, not even my old lecherous boss on our Playboy account.

"And...maybe you are the right man. You have all the traits I admire in a man. You're the first guy who ever turned me on! Honest Injun! I'd swear on our founder's scapula," she said with the typical twinkle in her eye.

Good, Dom thought. Swear on her scapular, not her lesbian bosom.

"Francie, come on. Give me a break. I still don't believe you. Sure, I do understand your dilemma. I've heard nuns' confessions for the last seventeen years...seven in the box and the last ten in offices like this one...Guess what?" He greatly controlled himself. Dom had a bad habit of sounding too eager.

"What?" She opened her seductive, blue eyes very wide.

"You are the best offer ever. The First offer. No kidding. Women usually run from me like the plague. Secretaries leap. Stewardesses fly. Playboy bunnies hop. They all run. Sad. Really sad!" More true confessions. Dom shook his head, as if in deep shame, or in sorrow for all the love lost, and never again to be experience. Never, he thought. Never could we ever have such an unparalleled opportunity.

"Well, Cheer up. I'm not running. I'm really offering. Please understand...This took great courage...Don't reject me!" Francie was beginning to plead.

She did not need to plead. Dom arose to lock his office door. He turned down the lights. "Do you want a cocktail?" He pointed to his rosewood credenza.

"Yes, scotch on the rocks." Her beautiful smile broadened.

"You're kidding me. How did you know I like scotch?" Francie was more intriguing by the minute.

"Every priest I've ever known drinks scotch. Monsignor Casey, my uncle does. Dad does. You strike me as a scotch man." She winked and giggled infectiously, as she slowly unbuttoned the top of her white, nunlike blouse.

"God, I don't believe you." Dom shook his head in dismay.

They sat quietly, sipping scotch, listening to WFMT's version of Beethoven's Pastoral symphony on the radio. Slowly...ever so slowly...they began kissing. Then, they became more passionate. Almost furious. Dom had always fantasized, but never kissed an innocent nun. You know, It's okay to kiss a nun, but don't get into the habit. He knew all the jokes about nuns and priests, and recited most of them daily, to raucous applause.

Francie slowly and deliberately seduced him. First, she arranged pillows on the floor. Then, she slowly disrobed, demurely hanging her suit on the back of his executive chair. Dom was stunned. As she seductively took off her lacy virginal, white (what else?) bra, Dom undressed quickly, eyes riveted on her breasts. Her bosom was a magnificent turn-on for him. Her 36D breasts were firm. Erect, half inch nipples jutted out from very dark aureolas three inches wide. They looked darker against her pure porcelain white skin. For Dom, the fact that she was a nun made her skin look whiter, and tripzillion times more exciting. He was REALLY STUNNED. But it did not deter his erection.

Francie slowly lay down on the pillows. Dom eagerly jumped right into her waiting arms. They made love hungrily for an hour. Her innocence, willingness, and loving touches on his back feathered all the way down his spine. They were an ultimate turn on for Dom. Unlike your typical virgin, Francie said and did all the right things She made the best moves. Francie orgasmed with the softest moans. Dom worked up to his last frenzy and shot gallons into her tight vagina. Finally, not wanting to be too heavy on her, he slowly fell back, exhausted. Then, still breathing heavily, he reached over and handed her a scotch.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." She shyly whispered it into the glass, like a chalice, with the Irish twinkle in her eye, peering over the golden rim.

"Wow!.....What a sense of humor. You are REALLY LOVING! And beautiful. And a fantastic turn-on!" He was still sweating. Sex always made him sweat. He had thrown himself into her so passionately that Dom was still seating as much as in his sauna bath.

"That was my first time, Dom. You really de-flowered a virgin nun! Right out of her habit!" Francie smiled as she winked. They laughed, laughed, and laughed louder. "It's okay to kiss a nun, but don't get into the habit."

"God, you are my dream come true. An Irish, too. My Irish mom always said I could only fall in love with a woman of Irish descent. Robin dumped me months ago. I haven't had a date. I've been so depressed I could barely function. Today, God sent you as the ultimate gift." Dom bubbled it out speedily but sincerely.

"Dom, it's a far greater joy for me!" She let out a seductive sigh.

"Can I tell you my favorite Irish jokes? Why did they invent Irish whiskey? To keep the Irish from taking over the world. Where does an Irishman go on vacation? To a `different' bar!" Dom laughed.

Francie countered. "What's the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish wake?"

"You got me there. For once, I've not heard that joke!"

"At the wake, there's one less drunk!" Now, she laughed as raucously as Dom did.

"Do you have a date tonight? I have a weekend pass." Her offers improved by the minute.

"Wow!" His eyes opened wide. "Let's go to dinner. Then I can show you my condo-apartment. I'm starving. How about you?" H handed her the white, lacy bra and panties, after sucking in her perfume.

"Sure, I'll follow you anywhere."

Over dinner at the Nantucket Cove, on Lake Shore Drive, they traded personal histories. Francie shared with him her dating experiences in college, virginally fending off all suitors, before entering the convent. Dom regaled her with stories about the priesthood, meeting Robin, having Marguerite, "His Great Decision To Quit," his Playboy bunny breast fetish, and the like. When he finally described his marriage and divorce, Dom cried profusely.

Francie was lovingly sympathetic, holding his hand. And eager to see his condo. High atop Lake Shore Drive, Francie enjoyed the panoramic views from the 34th floor. It was high enough to be impressive, but not too high, like the top of the "Cock." She marveled at vistas on Lake Shore Drive, the loop, and Lake Michigan stretching infinitely East.

They made love again, even more passionately. Falling asleep in each other's arms Dom's last thought was a prayer of gratitude, for God's gift of Francie.

After more loving on Sunday morning, they had brunch. Then they even made love again.

"Francie, I don't ever want to lose you. I'll do anything to keep you. Let's visit as often as possible, and as lovingly as possible. Please. I'll do anything and everything possible for you. I'll be your slave for life. You'll never regret it. Trust me."

"That's a deal. I can make it at least one night per week, and most weekends. Just like this! Only Better! Please have your doorman call me a taxi. I'll be back next Wednesday night. I really love you." Cinderella ran out the door to meet her suburban curfew.

After Francie left, Dom fell back exhausted. Four lengthy, loving sexual encounters in twenty-four hours wore him out. Mentally, he began comparing his ex-wife Robin and Francie. Both were beautiful, intelligent, well-educated, brunette, Roman Catholic, young, sexy and most loving. At least, they both started off being most loving.

Francie was eight years younger, more active, more extroverted., a teacher, and possibly a deeper thinker. Maybe Francie would communicate better. Robin started off by communicating in the same way. But after the formal marriage, it slowly went downhill. There must have been some unrecognized trait in Dom that turned Robin off. Then she slowly built up resentments without talking about it. Or else she bought into The Feminine Mystique, and all those other heretical tomes on feminine liberation. Something to think about. All of life is communication. God, how hard it its to get people to see that.

As Dom lifted weights and stared out at the lake, he prayed he could have a good, long-term relationship with Francie.

They continued their passionate affair for five months. Dom fell more madly in love with Francie each day. Despite all his still current depression over Robin's divorce, he fantasized about marrying Francie. She described her years of studying and teaching Spanish, and her plans for her summer-long seminar in Costa Rica.

Then Francie vanished overnight. NO PASSIONATE FAREWELLS. NOCALLS. NO NOTES. Dom didn't understand. He was in a total state of panic Did I offend her, he thought. What could I have done wrong? Francie's the greatest. I really want her. I told her! Maybe she's just being melodramatic. I can't believe she decided to remain in the convent. Was it a game to elicit a proposal? And so soon? Should I have proposed already, jumping out of the frying pan into the fire? God knows I didn't reject her. And I don't need any rejections. Not now. Could she have been more naive than I thought? Dom dreamt about her every night. He fantasized about her every second of every minute of every hour of every day, all day long.

Finally, after weeks of pain, Francie's letter from Costa Rica was loving and reassuring. "I'll be eager to see you in September," she wrote. "Before school begins, I'll stop in on my way to Minnesota to teach."

Dom's letters to her were equally loving. For many obvious reasons, neither made any promises. Francie insisted on teaching with friends in Minnesota. Dom's divorce was just final. Although Do loved Francie as much as possible, he wasn't in any big hurry to get married too soon. His tragic, costly divorce left major scars on his body and bank accounts. Dom felt depressed over departure. And anxious about his future with her or any other woman. Dom wondered if Francie would ever come back, or if she was just politely dropping him, by escaping to Minnesota, without telling the truth about her feelings.

"God," he prayed nightly, "Please help me. I can't seem to figure women out. I did strike out with Robin. I may even have goofed with Francie now...... If so, please make my next lover a gorgeous blonde!"