Author's Note: I'd like to apologize for postponing to update this story since it has been a week when it was lastly updated, nonetheless here's the new chapter which might be sloppy at times. So bear with me! So much love for everybody! <3 

--- *** ---
--- A Week Later ---
--- 23rd of March, 1967 ---

The week after not only they were already wed couple, resulting by holding a private wedding with no guests, but also phoning Timothy's family to announce them the news for the marriage and being no longer members of the clergy, Jude and Timothy have eventually planned their honeymoon to take its place in Paris.

Paris was the ideal destination for their one week honeymoon even during one of the toughest episodes of Jude's life especially physically. As a future mother, who is still through the dynamic, relentless roller coaster of nausea, morning sicknesses, weight gain, mood swings and food cravings, it didn't prevent her ability to have fun and cherish each authentic moment with her husband. Moreover, Paris was their romantic sanctuary to discover the city of the fashion with its enchanting landmarks, breathtaking nature and ambience which encircled them and the perfect venue for honeymoons by abundance of recently wed couples for a week.

Anyway just a couple of days before their formal flight for Paris, they reserved their own tickets without missing the flight in the wee hours of the morning since a big adventure awaited them. Big adventure by spending almost the entire day jailed in the airplane with galore of tourists, whose dream destination wss actually the same as their.

As soon as the both former devotional members of the church landed in the French capital as they have gathered their luggage, they found the most nigh hotel to book for themselves a room for the rest of the week.

At the moment the former Cardinal was hiking outside with his wife, holding one another's hands, squeezing them as the blonde's lion mane of glossy old Hollywood gilt tresses bounced in a choir under the early spring's balmy, vibrant sun, dispersing its vibrant sunrays below every surrounding. During their wander around the capital's humbly aesthetic, peaceful streets, the Bostonian didn't wear any stilettos, nor any taut garments that were causing any physical discomfort to her even when her small bump was scarcely visible.

Their nostrils inhaled inwardly the dazzling scent of recently blossoming bushes, trees and flowers which they have passed with every took step.

The sun was smiling at them by illuminating with its natural saturating light their exposed fleshes. Exposed fleshes such as their milky as vanilla, creamy as satin hands, their yet youthful, porcelain complexions and partly the Bostonian's still drop-dead gorgeous, long as towers legs which were ideally contoured through the thin dark pantyhose.

The middle-aged woman was dressed up in an ordinary wine red dress with long sleeves and boat neckline, partly exposing her well-defined collarbone and neck, whereas its dress's lacy hem flared across her lovely, round knees. Her petite, frail feet were shoed in obsidian black Mary Jane.

The younger man was actually clothed in a mere pale blue shirt as a handful of buttons were undone, giving a clear view of the beginnings of his hairy, toned chest. His lean, long legs were clothed in midnight black trousers with obsidian black Oxford.

Their dark, fueled with childish bliss and radiance pools contemplated their way as they looked up at one another's face from time to time even halting their walk, in order to seal their lips in a brief, sultry kiss and then keep on.

"It's doubtlessly gorgeous here in Paris!" The middle-aged lady evoked out as elation puffed from the top of her brittle lungs, inhaling the alluring fragrance of the roses, which were adorning the balconies' iron fences after passing a couple of grandiose, old façades. A beaming, beatific smile curled upon her naturally rosy-coloured, plumpish lips.

"At home is always the most gorgeous place, isn't it?" The British compatriot emphasized the last words in his rhetorical exclamation, emitting a jubilant, quiet chuckle.

"It is definitely the most gorgeous place for sure!" Jude replied through a cheerful, hoarse giggle, tickling the corners of her mouth as if an earthquake quivered momentarily. "Rome is our home." In the interim, she rested her head on his muscular, broad shoulder delicately as he flinched faintly at first, due to the fact, he didn't expect it at all. "Our sweet home!" She finished her utterance in a honeyed whisper, pursuing Timothy's luscious, pale-pinkish lips to capturee them in a brief, soft kiss as they stopped promptly for a short, sweet kiss.

"Yeah, rare bird! While Paris is going to be our honeymoon love nest." The former pious man of the cloth added as they resumed their hike up to the downtown, in fact, to take photographs in front of the Eiffel tower and somewhere else afterwards. "But I shall correct you."

"Huh?" The blonde mumbled a reluctant, bewildered cry, harmonizing her lips.

"Paris and our home sweet home aren't as gorgeous as you, Jude!" Meantime, sanguine pigment tinted the former nun's chubby, well-defined cheeks as sweltering heat crawled underneath her facial skin. "Don't ever forget that!"

"B-But I'm not that gorgeous at all. What are ya even talking about?" Her lips rotated in a pout, squinting her hazelish-brown irises at the monumental worldwide landmark. "I'm carrying our child and I got fatter, besides I bet I aged a bit." Pessimism lingered on her tongue as spitted venom from the venomous serpentine tongue.

"Don't talk like that, Jude! You're carrying our child as the advancing time makes you more gorgeous! Moreover, I don't care if you're as skinny as a skeleton or fat, I still love you and you're the most beautiful woman into my eyes since the first moment I've ever laid eyes on you."

"Aww, ya have been always the sweetest, ya know, darling!" Once the former licentious jazz nightclub singer was posing behind the Eiffel tower by being encompassed by swarm of tourists and French citizens, a bashful, girlish smile kissed her lips as her both hands clamped her entire face, when the polaroid camera was already occupying the former holy man's hands.

"Who's ready for photo?"

"The shy one."

"The shy rare bird!" Mirthful, husky giggle left her lips like an ethereally endless corpse, dwelling out of a former mortal's corpse. In the interval, the former man of the cloth joined her giggle as their masculine and feminine voices interweaved altogether in a symphony.  "Come on, Jude! Just smile for me and relax!" He opted to encourage her to not being sheepish at all.

"I'm trying to." Meantime, her smile drastically changed from sheepish, girlish to coyly hypnotizing, glamorous by cradling her rosy-coloured, soft lips. The former man of the cloth snapped a couple of photographs of his wife, posing in front of the Eiffel tower. 

--- *** ---
--- Later Tonight ---

As soon as the wee hours of the evening approached unlike the already dead daylight ones, Judy and Timothy got back in their booked hotel room after spending almost the entire day outdoors by beholding the Eiffel tower, going on a quiet cafeteria and visiting a few shops, in case if they like something to purchase it, subsequently collecting it as piece of memory from their remarkable honeymoon.

Even when it was high time for dinner, the older lady wasn't actually peckish at all. In the meanwhile, Judy was wearing nothing else than her memorable bloody red satin slip, which hugged exquisitely her mildly pudgy figure.

The British aristocrat was sitting on the leather, convenient ottoman by having a glass of mouth-watering, insatiable white wine, whereas Judy was studying her petite frame in the sufficiently large sized mirror, clung to the wall.

At the moment, her elvish, creamy as baby skin hands tipped her tiny pregnant belly with her fingertips, squinting up in scrutiny each dubious body part that earned her prompt attention, taking her time to ponder.

The scintillating, esthetically pale moon hung over in the nocturnal, ebon sky, being outnumbered by the hive of incessantly shimmering stars. The light spring breeze gently blew like cigarette dim, wafting briskly.

Quietness arched in the evening hours of the French capital.

"Oh fucking God! My appetite is suicidal." The blonde belated a mutter, curling her naturally rosy-coloured, soft lips, whilst her caramel brown pools inspected every muscle of hers.

"Aren't you actually hungry at last, rare bird?" The once holy priest enquired as immense concern was accentuating his enquiry, due to the blonde's complaints, without averting his warm chocolate brown orbs from her yet appealing figure and the gorely red nightie which was her armor. "We can order some food for ourselves."

"Nah, thank ya! My appetite is yearning for something else." The middle-aged future mother stepped out of the mirror by ambling up in seductive gait up to Timothy, in order to tempt him as he almost chocked with the sipped wee gulp of the scrumptious white wine. "Are ya fine?" Her petite, sufficiently potent hand swatted his upper back, emboldening the consumed liquor gush down moderately without causing him further bids.

"Yes, I'm finally." He quirked his thick eyebrow, taking her hand into his larger, amusingly warm, consequently lifting it up to his lips, grazing her fragile knuckles in a velvet peck. "What is your appetite rather yearning for?" He left the glass of white wine aloof on tbe table, whilst the Bostonian sat on his lap, straddling it with her sitting posture.

"Yar supposed to know." In the meantime, Judy's wet tongue pivoted greedily, gamely her lips as Timothy's wine-stained breath barely brushed her facial skin, pinching it. The palms of her petite, secure hands cupped his cheeks as her fingers traced warily his well-defined cheeks, admiring his inescapable handsomeness, which she was being exceedingly hexed. Her lips scarcely greased his, nuzzling her nose tip against his. "I'm thirsting for something else. Screw ordering any food or drinks!" She momentarily silenced the former aspiring Monsignor with a soft, deep steamy kiss as their eyelids shut like blinds, flapping their long, ebony eyelashes in the slits' shaped eyelids. "How about ya too, sweetie?"

"Not at all when it comes up to being hungry and thirsty. In different ways." In the interval, the younger man's muscly, strong arms were bracing in a scooped warm, wet hug his rare bird.

"I'm pleased to hear this yar capable of changing yar mind." All of a sudden, her lips pressed on his in a hardening, sensual kiss as one of his hands managed up to her halo ringlet of silky aureate curls by raking and twirling them between his fingers, admiring its crispy softness. As their kisses escalated to ferocious, their wet tongues commened dueling against each other until the former sister of the church plugged hers into his mouth, deepening into a French kiss.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" The blonde muffled an inward, sensual moan, anticipating her husband to taste her juices and thereafter their skins to link as one as her hands lowered to his shirt, in order to unbutton each button until its cotton fabric peeled off his toned torso like a snake skin. Meanwhile, the younger man's hands drifted down to her waist. "I fucking need ya right away." Muffled, velvety whisper touched her lips as she cocked back her head as soon as his lips slithered from hers, following its swan curve down to her neck by peppering it with feather, tender kisses until they escalated up to using technically his firm, yet ivory teeth to nibble the back of her accessibly pale as ghost neck. Uncontrollable, reckless groans and moans floated in the background.

In the interim, his fingers peeled off her spaghetti slip's straps delicately, relishing the sensation of the attire being discarded within seconds gradually until the nightie's brassiere leaked the blonde's full, round breasts with her sensitive, mauve erected nipples.

Once Timothy's lips lowered to her bosom, he wrapped them circa one of her mauve, vulnerable areolas by suckling it even using his tongue, circling it as Jude arched her neck, whereas her head was cocked back. They were perhaps doing wonders to one another not just physically, further mentally and tantalizing each other with what they haven't achieved through the years even before Jude's first spontaneous pregnancy that changed her life upward without any doubt. At the moment, her hands ran all over his muscly, hairy chest as soon as his shirt was discarded, lying motionlessly, bluntly on the ground, admiring it underneath her touch. 

"Oh hell yeah! All I need is now yar mouth between my legs, besides feeling yar skin inside my core." His other hand cupped her other breast in the palm of his smooth hands, massaging it as beneath the palm's touch he could feel the hardness of her mauve, sore nipple. 

When they got rid off their garments by tossing them carelessly on the floor and the former pious priest lifted up in a bridal lift his wife, throughout she spread widely her legs, giving him a better access to her labia and hard clit as one of his hands pawed her inner thigh, whilst his solely free hand's fingers fondled her labia as his tongue circled her bundle of nerves even nipping it aggressively with his firm teeth, enforcing her intense bewails in pleasure to boat in the reserved hotel room.

"Oh fucking Christ! Yar incredible." The former sister of the church didn't pay any attention to her cuss, factly, she was enjoying the erotic moment by playing with her husband's chestnut hair. 

In the meanwhile, the younger man kneaded with a thumb the bundle of nerves as electrifying shivers and paroxysm sedated her muscles and bones, feeling her knees weak as if its stamina ebbed off. Their eyes fluttered shut and after teasing her clit, the former holy woman dangled her legs around her husband's waist as they were clung to one another, taking their time to admire one another's facial features until Judy was ready. 

"You're the handsomest man I've ever laid my eyes on." The Bostonian deadened a soft, steamy whisper, locking up the pair of chocolate brown pools. 

"You're actually the beauty here!" At the moment, Jude's satin arms were snaked around his upper back for support as a smug, mischievous grin crawled haphazardly on her porcelain, still young-looking complexion. Warmness and pride enveloped her flimsy heart as it hammered vigorously into her ribs cage. The British compatriot's both mammoth, protective hands were clawing her hips.

All of a sudden, the older woman positioned the hard rock member at her entrance as the initial thrusts were vaguely slow even painful since it has been almost a week since they've made love to one another. Sultry moans and soreful groans escaped their lips as they were heaved from the top of their lungs until the thrusts were quicker, louder without any inhibitions. 

First and foremost, every surrounding even passing stranger under their hotel room's balcony was oblivious for them, besides with the hotel owners and its customers that paced in the profound, long hallways in the wee hours of the night. Second, the blonde arched her neck synchronically by throwing back her head along with her lion mane of sleek old Hollywood golden tresses tickling the curve of her spine. Their eyelids were tightly shut as she scrapped with her sufficiently long, manicured in crimson red forenails his toned, coated in perspiration back, thus leaving marks of her savage marks all over his back. They could hardly take a split second to breath adequately. 

"Oh fucking God, sweetheart! Don't stop!" The former woman of the cloth insisted, scarcely being able to keep her tongue behind her teeth, overlooking what her vocabulary produced in a single sentence, whereas she was rotating incessantly her hips as their inner thighs were grinding altogether in a choir with the bed springs altogether. "Fuck my brains out!"

"Oh God! You're so tight, rara avis!" Even the British aristocrat couldn't control his language as their climaxes were approaching by shifting up one of his hands up to her breasts, cupping its fullness.

"Oh Jesus Christ!"

After a couple of coarses thrusts, they reached successfully their climaxes by rolling on the king-sized bed's velvet blanket as the blonde was pinning her husband, her full, round breasts brushing his stark, hairy torso, panting sluggishly.

"Oh fucking God! That was awesome." Judy confessed, nibbling on the silken skin of her bottom, mauve lip. The both former devotional members of the clergy verged to fall asleep without thinking twice and moving any single muscle.

"I can't agree more!" Thereafter Jude moved her lips up to his by capturing them in a hardening, steamy kiss just seconds before losing control over her body lastly. "I love ya so much, Tim! You're making me the happiest woman alive."

A hoarse, rejoicing snicker wasn't suppressed by Timothy as his both arms were clasped around her waist, seconds before peeling a word. "I love you much more than anything, rare bird!" Meantime, he tucked a couple of stray, wild honey curls behind her tiny, sensitive ear as he stroke delicately her cheek with his solely free hand. "I'm honored to be the only man, who is able to make you the happiest woman, because you're rather the one that makes me tremendously blissful to bones."