Author's Note: That's the sequel of the imagine Take Me To Church with the reader and Timothy, himself! Furthermore, this imagine is a great blend of fluff and smut, but mostly smut! 

I hope you like and enjoy the imagine!

It's a special dedication to: southernauthor, sociopathsis, Celeste-Moore, jlangster_, Yararebird, k_aldxnx! Hopefully you enjoy and like your present! <3 

--- *** ---
--- A Week Later or So ---

Just a week after the church mass where it weighed off the scales of you and Timothy's escalated relationship via your regular visits in the chapel indicating your loyalty and the shivering-thoughtful-clad memories of the masculine warmness lingering on your petite hand's flesh, you couldn't still sort your mind rationally even smartly after the dynamic development of the events the last weekend. It still felt like as if a day has already passed, not just a week of sheer advancement.

The enamoured humor, phenomenally quivering you and Timothy in a small bubble of your own world with various of interests and dreams evolving your hurricane of thoughts, was an inescapable phenomenon and evolutionary process of your relationship development between a mere nobody and a priest. Regardless your big age gap as he could be your actual father or at least uncle along with your status and background in the general population's expansive world, the standards were boundless for you.

Just before paying a visit to the local chapel to behold him again, you went to lingerie store to purchase an extravagant pair of luxurious lacy scarlet bra, lacy scarlet panties along with exquisitely thin jet-black stockings, ideally coupled with elegantly crimson garnets apt to ornate the sinfully seductive outfit. In addition to your surreptitiously sinful plotted concept of saving it for a peculiarly outstanding occasion that was interpreted in demonstrating it straightforwardly to the devotional clergyman.

The frequency of his protagonistic appearance in your bedtime or at least nap dreams somehow regulated, fulfilling your impure thoughts of him haunting you since his very first appearance in your life. The honeyed British lilt puncturing the medley of sweet nothings and authoritative, dominating commands erupted your electrifying epidermis at the very first thought of the reverie events' development under the form of your earlobe's gentle, velvety caress of his mint-stained breath gingerly, brassly creamy fanning your delicate flesh and coveting for its ethereally timeless sequel to play out to compose the sensual ballad of sweet nothings and authoritative commands to settle your positions, to blend them with amorously breathtaking compliments and commands of illuminating his domineering side, illustrated vividly brilliant in his stance of taking advantage of you.

Just like the curious children of God, Adam and Eve curiously discovering one another's anatomies and their beneficial advantages. Just like the insatiably untested forbidden fruit in Eden's rich gardens of the biblical catharsis.

Craving for his pristinely colossal, creamy hands to claw every curve of your petite-frame even initially clumsily until adapting boldly to its sultry touch with his digits and fingertips scraping the tender, nubile flesh especially of the rosebud nipples pebbling generously the soft fat of your bosom paired with the playfully cocksure, naturally plum bundle of nerves.

Craving for his naturally nude pink, plumpish lips capturing yours into a hardening, deliciously sultry kiss with its creamily succumbing effect spiking series of hysterical moans and groans at the top of your struggling brittle lungs, coveting to collect modicum of oxygen to be regenerated at last. Craving for his nude pink lips gingerly mellow cradling your collarbone and neck with its promising graze until escalating to blowmindingly steamy bloodthirsty nips at your delicate flesh whilst sweetly playing with his dark hair.

In the wee hours of the afternoon when the church's daily schedule transmuted into a battlefield of arriving visitors to pray and then flee the hallowed building in the company of nuns and priests, your very presence was sheerly oblivious not only for the huge mass of nobodies, but also for the ambitious Monsignor whose current location interpreted its unknowness into your hurricane of thoughts twirling snd whirling when assimilating in its pondering process of gearing its cells to elaborate the vivid thoughts, saturating your mind with your immense creativity and unavoidable imagination. The sole presumption you could throw a quick glimpse at was either inside the chapel or on the contrary visiting other holy sites where his presence was mandatory as well. Anyway you decided to check on your own.

Fashioning into balled fist your elvish hand to push relentlessly the infamously creaky monumental hardwood double door and stepping inside the church as your classy extraordinarily fashionable jet-black chunks whispered monotonously against the floor, pitching the background with its additional noise of the eloquent birdsongs encircling the building, thereafter your E/C cabochons landed on the empty façade's interior for your own surprise and then retiring to the ajar opened door at the end of the altar, dividing a divinely precious proximity gauged in a couple of meters solely until crucially diminishing with each elapsing second, each footstep scraping the lavishly crimson, opulent carpeted flooring.

Little did you know who was inside the mystically ajar opened door room and your very thoughts sparkled with brilliance of ideas who might be behind its nefariously squeaky door, dumping its small gap of space, sufficiently arcane to discover the essential perpetrator of its deed.

Within less than a minute of humdrum gait-clad stroll at your imminent destination and sheepishly holding the ajar opened door, peering through its tiny gap of space that was benevolently offered to you to object its mystery lastly, all of a sudden, the prospect of the British aristocrat manifested its slam of the Holy Bible's rigidly leather covers to adjust the default landscape of the sacred book bulked your ogle.

Stifling a gasp after clamping mercilessly your bloody red painted cherub lip between your unblemished ivory front teeth to nibble delicately its tender spot, you spent a half a minute examining in a scrutiny the larger frame whose back was facing you for your own luck.

His conservatively wool, dark ecclesiastical attires' sufficient largeness scarcely obscured any wee inkling of his flawless masculinity, welling into his very being.

The haphazardness of its shift of his posture and his back no longer confronting your E/C optics dimly caught you off guard as his reassuringly warm, welcoming chocolate brown optics speared you kindheartedly, offering you a benevolently sympathetic smile splitting upon his naturally pale-roseate, brim lips, lowly droning under his breath as its tunefully silver-tongued, nonchalant tunes tingled solely into your ears in its small range of yards you traded mutually your distant proximity.

"Good day to see you again, Y/N!" Maneuvering with his mammoth, blanched hand to friendly embolden you to step inside his office without an ado as you timidly emphatic set a foot without thinking twice and following meekly his instructions.

"Good day, Timothy! I didn't mean to disturb at all." Then he managed to seat on one of the cherry wood, warmly convenient chairs, ushering you to sit alongside him as you hospitably graced him with a sympathetically ablaze smile, mischievously tickling your jaw to flex and thereafter profusely, candidly permeate across your bloody red mouth.

"You aren't bothering me at all, Y/N! It's alright!" A heavy sigh flushed his tiny, flexible nostrils to measure his immensely endless patience, peculiarly constructing his unique personality and subsequently divinely, complacently seeding its wighty seed of frequency to have strong tolerance and celestially authentic calmness, no matter in what kind of a situation he's located and confronting its tribulations that might unnerve even irk the majority of its gladiators that haven't deal with their patience's actual duration. "Tell me your troubles!" The obdurately stark, ominously insisting tone, poured and sugarcoated with sheerly healthy honey cooed urgently into your ears angelic hymns, begging for your revelation to be poured shortly after murderously obdurate craft of its vowels and syllables, coupled with a rational logic sorting your mind and thoughts. In the meanwhile, the distracting medley of cinnamon, coffee, mint and masculinely seductive cologne contagious disject its invisibly acute cloud of compound settled promisingly into the site momentarily.

"I'm not really sure, Timothy, but I've the," A sharp exhale bolted your feminine Adam's apple abruptly, slowly but surely molting into the mystically tempting gaze of the older gentleman spearing yours without having any heinously vile intentions of averting your optics from his, magnifying its unholy entice roaring through your veins and muscles. "The strong feeling there's something missing in my life."

"What's the possibility of something missing in your life?" In the interval, the pious clergyman's virginally smooth, stubborn fingers registered its delicate, mirthful waltz around his glass of translucent, refreshing liquid, subsequently managing to lift its glass material-clad item to swig a couple of tiny sips until dumping it aloof on the bureau. "You're young and beautiful, Y/N!" Tempest wave of enticing velvety compliments blazed your E/C bijous and heating the pit of your stomach, alight by the candid kindness of the British aristocrat and spiking electrifying goosebumps on your mellow epidermis beneath your indeals spring scarlet red coat with its eager hem flaring across your mid-thighs and utterly buttoned up to your delicate neck.

Ushering your head sheepishly bobbing in agreement, generous layer of blush swelteringly bountiful sprinkled your well-sculptured, chubby cheeks with ticklish pinkness, darkening your complexion. Stormy, embarrassingly unexplainable doldrum conveniently remedied the elasticity of platonically intimate distance you traded mutually. You barely know what his intentions were.

"You're tempting me, Y/N!" Bitterness seethed its lump to obscure its freedom in your feminine Adam's apple at the docile whisper diminishing its glossy, bold decibels into a mumble tingling angelic anthems into your ears when you fathomed the current utter focus of Timothy. Fixating his coffee brown huge, roundish bijous scanning in a scrutiny your thin, elegant stockings-clad drop-dead gorgeous legs, admiring its youthfully crispy curve, you flexed your throat to swig the soar lump, bubbling from your neck promptly when the limitation of logical or at least impulsive words to rest on your tongue tip interpreted your girlish shyness and uneasiness what to say next at the moment as a retaliation against his whisper, defending your very façade of position. Sternly softening his indisputably endless handsome facial attributes, yet linger of his appealingly amicable smile didn't haze and demonstrating inkling of disappearance sooner than later.

"I-I don't know!" The sole utterance you could bestow him with the best or the most possible vouch was your oblivion to the temptation you're recently trapping him with, whereas a stealthily wicked, villainously victorious smirk permeated past your mouth at sluggish pace, grazing your facial skin invincibly with the bewitching affect of the wee noticeable hints of your seductive outfit which was majorly steamy eye candy pair of lacy lingerie solely saved for him and for his lewd gaze.

"Impulse is all!" Savagely deft motion of tossing his amusingly muscular, masculinely potent arms to secure your waist lugged you towards him, spontaneously landing on his lap and wrapping your long legs to fasten his waist to bulk your weight in its ethereally everlasting, sweltering embrace. Meager than inch distance apt to be mutually swapped with the older gentleman whose lusciously pale-pinkish, cherub lips pursued for yours until they pressed into hardening, steamy kiss as you've always yearned to occur just like in your reverie. The heart pulsations raced and elaborated iron-willedly to conjugate the vehement thuds into your ribcage, syncing bountifully sociable when your ribcages pressed as you gently scooped his well-carved, chubby cheeks in the palms of your amusingly warm, elvish hands and pinching shut your eyelids to utmost melt in every ounce and second of the sultry kiss, breathily elaborating the series of moans and groans sailing out of your mouths.

When the kiss ferociously wild's escalation peaked to its celestially golden apogee, then the sync of waltzing in tandem wet, strawberry-coloured tongues eagerly agitated pronged gingerly, featherly-soft one another for domination even though you're certain that Timothy has never kissed or granted his virginity to another representative of the opposite sex. A breathlessly sensual gasp and moan drew from your brim, bright red lips at the suddenness of the British compatriot's one of his amusingly colossal, monstrously clumsy hands slithering downward to trace amorously creamy the curve of your pelvis, following its squarely vertical slop to your round, lovely shaped knee and the nimbleness of its squarely soothing kneads of your knee cap electrified paradoxal paroxysm and icy shivers swamping your muscles and sedating your frail bones as his tongue won its emphatic domination to slip inside your mouth and deepening into a deliciously delightful French kiss, gingerly nuzzling your nose tips apt to tandem the sensually slow motion, coveting for its duration to be endless than ever.

In the interim, you lifted your both petite hands to his head, consequently manipulating the pads of your fingers and fingertips to play and finger mischievously frequent his crisply soft chestnut hair. For a moment, within his entire strength the devotional man of the cloth lifted you up of his lap and settling you on top of the hardwood bureau, clumsily undoing a couple of hideously stubborn buttons of your indeals coat, in order to give him a better access to your expanse to slither his mouth from your cherub lips with its mild ravishing red smear mapping his stubble down to your delicate neck to pepper it with dose of lusterly feather-soft kisses at first until they potently escalated to ferociously insatiable nibbles, abrade your unblemishedly youthful flesh with his bloodthirstily vampiric sinful graze of his teeth leaving dose of his prominently marked territory imprinted on your epidermis. As his tall figure pinned you and leaning down, meanwhile, his hands were persistently working on undoing the rest of the solitude buttons of the indeals coat and thereafter shedding off its fabric to peel your upper body and pelvis freely and being discarded on the carpeted flooring recklessly as the only attires which covered you dedicatedly were your pair of lacy bra and panties matched with your stockings and classy chunks.

The subsequence of the absolute reality's parallelism to your bedtime reverie illustrated the vividly explicit images of the erotica you've always yearned to be depicted candidly realistic in the most vivid, straightforward nuances that speak emotions behind its protagonists' illustration. There was nothing absolutely wrong to granting your virginity to nobody else than the man of your dreams who was completely certain to keep you safe and sound unlike the majority of the representatives of the opposite sex that would use your body for their hedonistically selfish carnal pleasure to satiate their amplifying adrenaline and steamy dreams and thoughts. Timothy was a much different gentleman compared to the majority of men that you've ever encountered in your life. They were nothing like the genuinely altruistic, criminally caring, amiable and intelligent priest that you're perpetually enamored every time you're attending the chapel for the masses you were meagerly missing.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met!" His tongue's eagerness to conjugate the vowels in its bleated blatant revelation as he shifted his mouth to your cleavage and licking squarely perpendicular the glossy flesh underneath his tongue tip, whereas one of his hands peaked to paw your other breast, whimpering a glacially disappointed gasp due to the fabric's incessant guard of your skin.

"You don't have any idea you're breaking your own vows and that means your goose is incredibly cooked."

"I don't care about my vows anymore, Y/N!" Meantime, you registered to free your other hand to unbuckle your seductively diabolic, lacy bra and ruthlessly discard it, escorting cozily the first attire. The tough dilemma of stilling his bland dedication to his solemnly took vows and the unconditional love and unimaginable lust and desire danced in the British aristocrat's chaotic mind even though you have never dated, nor shared a kiss except during your very first intimate act situated inside the church's private office. "My goodness, you're just blowmindingly gorgeous as I've always thought!" Suddenly his mouth wrapped around your rosebud nipple, suckling on its tenderly sensitive, mellow bundle and mewling blatant its slur dripping from his tongue tip, whereas you maneuvered your fingers to encouragingly play and finger with his brown strands, emboldening him to continue its endlessly pleasurable act. "I'm definitely crazy about you, Y/N! T-Tell me your secrets, beauty!" A primly fiendish grin curved upon your mouth and balefully nipping your lower cherub lip to stifle its contagious pleasurable stoicism to sketch your young-looking, fresh facial attributes. You have never expected the ambitious Monsignor's other side to be brightly vibrant illuminated in its most vivid light especially with his impure thoughts, immersing his ocean of thoughts and having a yen for the critical accomplishment of his foully unholy fantasies, tantalizing his very being.

"Tell me your fantasies first, darling!" The velvety glowing nickname, blending with great deal of breathless moans and painfully sore groans sloppily dripping from your tongue tip after being on the verge to vanish in the thin air, pitching loudly the background when your insisting rhetorical utterance begged the older man to leak his foully sinful secrets, stored inside his very thoughts. "I'm begging you as I'll tell you mine," His fingertips crooked to tease mischievously perky your other breast's sensitively plum nipple, nurturing the medley of dew of moistness and hedonistic heat battering your folds, wrenching widely opened your eyelids altogether and exchanging consensual ogles perforating profoundly your indiscernible jet-black broadly exploded pupils. "Okay?"

"Since the first days I saw you being more regular when there were church masses in the morning," Then pressing an affectionately welcoming peck on your rosebud, erected nipple and ushering his only free hand to cup your femininely adorable jaw line and tracing smoothly its curve. "I couldn't stop thinking of you. You're just a pure eye candy for me and you're also part of my impure thoughts which God no longer loves me or at least I don't feel his very presence securing me with his holy, unbeatably divine power." Shyly bobbing your head in solemn agreement, you reaffirmed boldly his open-minded confession without averting your stare of his, while you plainly tugged his priest collar and pitch-black shirt from his shoulders and afterwards of his head as their foreshadowed sequence smoothly paced at their careless discard on the floor along with the poor pile of bra and coat. "I've always wanted to be with you."

"Really?"

"I seriously do, Y/N! I'm so happy I met you!" Seconds before his solely free hand's fingers teased your erected nipple switched to your solitude panties, meanwhile, he bashfully boyish twirled and fingered the promiscuously stray strands of your mop, curtaining your full profile.

"Every time I close my eyes, I'm always thinking of you and your velvety voice speaking sweet nothings and dirty things to me,"

"Mhm!" Adjusting his pristinely clumsy fingers to hunker to your panties and knead on series of circles the secured bundle of nerves, the older gentleman lingered his fingertips to gentlemanly cradle your jaw.

"I'm always thinking of your hands clawing me from head to toes. My shoulder blades. My cleavage." Opting to regenerate your regulated breathing through severely pressuring pants pumping your ribcage and widely spreading your legs to give a better access to the holy man to play his own cards right. "My hips. Everywhere you could think of."

"Your imagination is rich, but not as rich as what I'm capable of, my bird!" Darkening his fiendishly attractive smirk to spread across his plumpish lips flashed to you tempest of enticing giggle tickling your tongue after awkwardly lurching onward and backward seconds before snatching violently your pair of panties and ruthlessly tossing them with the rest of dumped attires, in order to plug his berry-coloured, wet tongue inside your core to suckle devilishly your mouth-watering juices and continue its recurring tease of your hard clit. The compound of your erected clit and core iron-willedly yearned for the holy man's touch to soothe them and magnify their peace at last.

"Holy fuck!"

Within less than a minute of genuinely enjoyable tease of your clit and sucking your juices, then you both get rid off your remaining garments guarding your flesh and participating haughtily the opulent pile of remnants as Timothy straightened his posture and stilling its snaked brace of your legs circa his waist when he positioned his stiff, veiny and hard manhood at your entrance to fill its patchy emptiness. His immensely profuse patience to grant you with bonus time until you're utterly ready for the violent thrusts to reunite ultimately your outstanding essences eventually, his both colossal flabbergastingly warm and secure hands clawed heinously your hips to stable its pose without deforming any discreet tissue battered to the skin. In the meantime, your core's ominously willful walls contracted the hard crotch refilling its once hollow.

All of a sudden, the initial thrusts roared villainously a foreign, sore pain as their slowness attempted to agreeably persuade you to adapt to the length's rebellious stamina and strength and subtly pricking your throats with series of passionately hysterical moans and groans, bubbling from your necks and strong-willedly dousing the background. The entire world's pure existence no longer bothered you and thus conveyed its message of oblivion, empting your ocean of thoughts.

When the thrusts severely adapted to your sexes, throughout their evolution of sorely painful, unbelievable transmuted into sacredly quick, pleasurable, mewling dose of sweet nothings and unhallowed cusses, brilliantly composing its erotica ballad.

"Holy shit, Daddy!"

"You're astonishingly tight. And yet wet, isn't that for me my rare bird, is it?" Maneuvering a humble, honest nod of your head when your muscles' excessive sedation couldn't even put a finger on its passionately enticing act and phenomenally altering not only your entire day, but also your relationship as you were no longer the nobody and the clergyman. "I've to second on it enough." Breathless pant confronted the British compatriot's authentically sensual moan and gasp when he managed to smack a rebelliously cheerful slap across your peachy buttock until searing roseate finger tracks imprinted iron-willedly, hair-risingly on your left ass cheek. The haphazardness of your dexterous claw of the soft fat of your bosom palmed the hardened nipple intensified shamelessly of the approaching climaxes coursing through your sexes and tissues.

Within a couple of uncontrollably furious thrusts slapping against your slit, consequently Timothy dumped his balmy, marbled seed inside your core when one of his colossal, monstrously pale hand worked on unplugging his manhood of its slit and trying your best to apt to tandem the luxuriously versatile collection of oxygen through your sluggishly flaring nostrils.

"That's freaking amazing, Timothy! You're doubtlessly amazing!"

"You're way more awesome, Y/N! I'm immensely grateful to you for everything." Then he clumsily, lazily collapsed on top of you and pinning your bare torso with his hairy, toned chest brushing your skin, syncing the tandem and the vehement throbs in your ribcages, dangling his strongly muscly, cozy arms to brace your waist as you gladly melted into the tight, everlasting hug. 

Author's Final Note: I'd like to apologize if the smut was slightly sloppy, in spite of my attempts to masterize it in its perfection! I hope you liked and enjoyed this imagine as well! :))