What Sister Ángela Discovered Behind the Door

Catalina and Remedios had turned the night into their only free territory. They cared little about sinning; the two of them had decided to surrender to desire without guilt, without broken promises to torment them the next morning. In the convent everyone noticed they nodded off during six o’clock Mass, but no one suspected the reason: they barely slept an hour or two, because the rest of the night they spent tangled in the narrow bed of one of their cells.

Over time they understood that this rhythm would eventually give them away. The dark circles, the yawns, the way they sought each other out with their eyes in the refectory. So they decided to rein themselves in. Rest for a few weeks, recover their composure, and then return to their nights more cautiously.

What neither of them knew was that Sister Ángela had already discovered them.

It had happened one ordinary dawn, on her way to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. Passing by Catalina’s cell, she heard something that stopped her dead in her tracks: ragged breathing, a moan barely held back against a pillow. She moved closer to the door without thinking. From the tone of the voices she realized there were two women, and one of them was Catalina. The other took her longer to identify, until she noticed which two sisters were always drifting around sleepy in the corners.

Ángela did not denounce them. She kept the secret entirely to herself, without lifting a finger that might harm them. But from that night on she acquired a new habit. She would walk barefoot to Catalina’s door, press her ear to the wood, and listen. The other two women’s moans got under her skin. Then she would return to her cell with her pulse racing and touch herself in the dark, imagining what was happening behind that closed door.

I’m just like them, she thought. Only I do it alone.

And it was true. Ángela carried the same fire, but she had never dared share it with anyone. Since she had stumbled onto Catalina and Remedios’s secret, she never let a single night pass without going up to that door. Listening and then locking herself away to fantasize had become the center of her nocturnal world.

***

When the two lovers decided to take their pause, Ángela felt a void she could not name. She had grown used to that secret routine, and now each night she came to the door hoping to hear something, but found only silence. She returned to her cell frustrated, unable even to get aroused as before. Worst of all was that: she had enjoyed those other women’s fantasies so much that nothing of her own was enough anymore.

She even thought the two sisters had quarreled. That must be it, she told herself. But the theory fell apart on its own, because Catalina and Remedios remained inseparable. Wherever one was, the other appeared. Ángela silently prayed a prayer she would never have dared confess: My God, make them do it again.

The silence, however, would not budge. And she was not a woman to sit on her hands. She decided to change tactics: if she could not listen to them, she would become their friend. She did not know exactly what she would gain from it, but something inside her told her that, by getting close enough, sooner or later she would find the crack she could slip through.

She became the shadow of the two of them. She looked for them in the orchard, in the sacristy, in the kitchen. She made conversation, showered them with small favors, made herself available for everything. Within days she won their affection and naturally became part of the group. The three of them walked together, laughed softly in the corridors, shared bread at the long table.

But no matter how much Ángela strained to listen, she never heard them make the slightest reference to sex. They talked about a thousand things and nothing at once. She felt clumsy, unable to take the next step. Winning someone over had never been her strong suit.

***

What Ángela did not know was that, on the other side, Catalina and Remedios had spent weeks with their desire stirred to the point of unrest. Abstinence had them on edge. They needed to resume their nights urgently.

It was Remedios, who over the years had shared a bed with more than one sister, who floated the idea.

—What if we include her? —she said one afternoon as they hung sheets in the courtyard—. She’s become one of us. Imagine the three of us.

Catalina bit her lip. The mere idea lit something in her belly.

—I like it. But we have to be prudent. If she gets scared, we’re done for.

Remedios thought it through coldly. She proposed repeating what the two of them had done at first: take her to the cell, bring up touching oneself naturally. If Ángela felt uncomfortable, they would not push it, and no one would be exposed. Almost all the women in the convent masturbated in silence; that ground was safe.

That very night, determined to get back to their own business with Ángela or without her, they invited her.

—We’ll be waiting in my cell when everyone’s asleep —Catalina told her in a low voice—. A girls’ night. Just the three of us.

***

Ángela arrived with her heart hammering against her ribs. The three of them were in pajamas, seated on the bed and on the floor, and the scene looked like three schoolgirls at a sleepover. They started by talking about nonsense, about the mother superior, about the watery soup at midday. Until Remedios, expert at steering the conversation where she wanted, looked at her with a crooked smile.

—Ángela, what do you do when you get really worked up?

Ángela fell silent, searching for an answer that would not give her away. Remedios went ahead without giving her time.

—I touch myself. Almost every night, truthfully.

—Me too —Catalina added, shrugging as if she were talking about the weather.

Something loosened in Ángela’s chest. For the first time she felt she could tell the truth.

—I… I do it too —she admitted softly—. Every night. Sometimes three or four times.

Catalina and Remedios exchanged a glance. That number said everything.

—Three or four? —Catalina arched her eyebrows with a smile—. Then you’re the hottest of the three. I only do it once and I’m done for.

—Would you be able to show us how you do it? —Remedios asked, weighing each word.

—We’re your friends; we want to know everything about you —Catalina added, conciliatory—. If you’re embarrassed, we’ll show you first.

Ángela swallowed. The air in the cell had turned thick.

—Better… better let’s all do it at once —she proposed, surprised by her own boldness.

—Deal —said Remedios—. But with one condition: we take off our pants and underwear. So we can see each other properly.

***

They settled into a triangle on the bed, so each one could see the other two. The dim light of a candle stretched their shadows against the whitewashed wall. They began slowly, each touching herself between the legs, and Catalina and Remedios never took their eyes off Ángela.

—Your clit is very big —Remedios observed, leaning in a little—. Is it very sensitive?

—Very —Ángela answered, voice husky—. That’s why I come so easily.

—Will you let me touch it?

—Me too —Catalina asked, already leaning toward her.

—Yes —Ángela breathed—. Both of you.

No more was needed. Remedios went first. She moistened her fingers and set them on that swollen spot, moving them in slow circles, studying each reaction. She stroked her for a long while before giving way to Catalina, who lowered her fingers to the wet lips and let out a murmur of approval at how soaked she was.

—I’m not taking my fingers away from here until I make you come —Catalina promised against her ear.

—And then I’ll make you come —Remedios ordered.

Ángela did not answer. She understood, with a mix of panic and relief, that they were doing to her exactly what she had imagined so many nights behind the door. She let herself go. Catalina did not take long to bring her to her first orgasm; Ángela moaned softly, biting the back of her hand so as not to wake the whole convent. Meanwhile, Remedios found her neck and covered it with slow kisses.

—Lie back and open your legs wide —Remedios suggested—. That way I’ll make you come with my tongue.

—Get comfortable —Catalina added—. You’re safe here.

Ángela obeyed without saying a word, unable to form anything coherent. Catalina kissed her on the mouth and caressed her breasts while Remedios went down. Her tongue worked unhurriedly: it traced the lips, pressed the clit, made it go in and out of her mouth, playing with it until Ángela arched her back.

—I’m going to come, don’t stop —she begged.

—Come in her mouth, slowly —Catalina urged her.

—I’m coming… I’m coming —Ángela panted, shaking against Remedios’s lips.

***

For Ángela, it was all new. She had learned to touch herself through pure instinct, one night when a tingling sensation led her to explore in the dark, but no one had ever touched her. This was her first time with other hands on her skin, with other mouths, and the orgasms were nothing like the ones she got alone. They were deeper, longer, and left her trembling. That was why she could barely speak: she had no words to name what she felt. Each caress unleashed a small explosion that ran through her whole body, and all she wanted was for it never to end.

Catalina took Remedios’s place and once again buried her head between her thighs. She licked, sucked, penetrated her with two fingers while pressing the clit with her tongue. Ángela came again, and when she felt Catalina’s mouth insist on that now overly sensitive spot, she pushed her head away with her hand, powerless, laughing for the first time all night.

The two women looked at each other, pleased. There was something intoxicating about focusing together on one person, about multiplying pleasure until it became unbearable. That was the engine that drove them. When desire overtook them, they forgot the habits hanging behind the door, the vows, the hours of prayer. And what excited them most was not the pleasure itself, but knowing it was forbidden. The possibility of being discovered made every caress burn hotter. They knew it, they understood it, and still they chose the night again and again.

***

—Now it’s your turn to try —Remedios said, lying back and opening her legs—. I want to see what you know how to do.

—I’ve never done it —Ángela confessed, suddenly shy—. I’ve never… tried another woman.

—It doesn’t matter —Catalina soothed her—. There are things that come naturally. Imitate what we did to you.

Ángela took a deep breath. There’s always a first time for everything, she told herself. And she lowered her head toward Catalina, who had won the turn. The first thing she found was an unfamiliar taste, strong at first and sweet at the end, which struck her as strangely pleasant. She understood she would have to get used to it, because from that night on she did not plan to stop doing it.

She ran her tongue everywhere, clumsy but devoted, until she found the clit. There, at last, she was on familiar ground. She knew exactly how to handle it, because it was what she did to herself every night. She brought all her intuition to bear: she licked it, circled it, sucked it, taking it in and out of her mouth just as she had felt on her own skin. Catalina kept moaning, surprised by her new friend’s talent, while Remedios nibbled her breasts. It did not take long before Catalina surrendered to a long orgasm, stifling a cry against the pillow.

—Now the same, but with me —Remedios ordered, yanking her by the arm—. And from now on you’re going to do it every time we ask you to.

Ángela already took all that for granted. She knew who was in charge, and the idea of obeying did not bother her at all; on the contrary, it made her feel part of something. She worked on Remedios, adding a new detail: she penetrated her with her fingers while her tongue did the rest. Remedios moaned without hiding it, and those moans were the best confirmation that she was doing it well. When she felt her close, she replaced the tongue with a firm, steady suction, and Remedios came in tremors, clutching the sheets.

***

The two of them congratulated her like an outstanding student. They bombarded her with questions: what had she felt, would she do it again, why had she been so quiet all night. They begged her, laughing, to speak more next time.

Ángela only smiled, still breathless. For the first time in her life she had truly come, and she knew there would be no going back. They dressed in silence as the sky began to lighten through the small cell window. It would not be long before the first bell, and the three of them needed to sleep, even if only for a little while, so they would not nod off during Mass again.

As she slipped barefoot back to her cell, Ángela thought she would no longer need to press her ear to any door. From that night on, she would be inside.