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--- The Next Morning ---
The wee hours of the morning were embraced by the eloquent, beatific songs of the twittering birds outside, encircling the one-story cabin that was situated in Pittsburgh's woods. Moreover, a heavy rain poured in Pittsburgh outskirts as it hive of crystal drops assaulted, clinking the cabin's closed windows and reproducing the rain's symphony.
The lovers' garments and lingerie, discarded sheeted the carpeted flooring, as a result of their love battlefield, taking its place the night before in the bedroom.
It was Judy, who came to her senses as she was perfectly normal, finding in peace with herself after making love to her former boss and uniting on much higher level, besides the dinner they shared in the cafeteria and he looked after her. Much higher level as if they weren't just friends or former colleagues, collaborating as team players. The event that took its place in Timothy's house, located in the woods was the indisputable, inescapable evidence they're lovers and they have found peace with themselves at last. How long they have craved this to happen especially somewhere where they're all alone and nobody is going to find out about their intimacy, besides the menaced career of the middle-aged woman and her already broken vows? Notwithstanding the sinister circumstances which keep the nun's wits about her goose being cooked, after the lovely night she spent with her lover which she is never going to forget, she is more than determined to flee the church. But before fleeing the church, the middle-aged lady is about to collect her own paraphernalia and pack up her baggage before coming back in her former boss's one-story house.
The eventual truth was the blonde's motives to resign from the church, abstaining herself from the celibacy and solemnly took vows even when the broken vows were in peril to readily affect her career,
As soon as her eyelids fluttered open as its drowsiness ounce was encumbering them, a mere yawn zinged her lips as a soul, dwelling out of the corpse. Her round, full breasts were brushing the younger man's hairy, muscular chest, their stark, mossy bodies clung together as one in defeatist poses, as a result of the ultimate and electrifying climaxes they reached in their love nest. The chilly, stiff climate smeared the goosebumps as just blossomed plants, in fact, they were as stark as newborn babies.
When Jude's frail, milky as snow balled fists lifted up to her drowsy eyelids to rub them as her vision fogged blurriness across the partly light room, the heavy rain jingled its tunes into her sensitive, petite ears, mingling with the former Monsignor's snoring that floated in the bedroom. She got from the king-sized bed and commencing to cloth her slender body with wine red underwear, followed by the dress which she wore the night before and put on the classy stilettos, shoeing her petite, fragile feet as an armor against the ground's hardness.
Once she got dressed up, the impending task was to find Timothy's car keys and drive to the wayward home for girls and announce her official resignation along with no longer serving as a servant of God. Servant of the holy duties. Servant of the angels and being part of their sacred, almighty army.
Nonetheless, the toughest tasks for her at the moment were not only escaping the house within a handful of minutes without making any sound to cause the former holy man's stir, moreover the resignation from the church and as she is about to pack her garments and remarkable items, one of the nuns is going to enquire her over her entire night's absence. Perhaps the real motives to resign from the church and no longer being a nun would be the top questions that might struck the prying nun, who is going to end her relationship as colleagues with the former licentious jazz nightclub singer.
Even after the breathtaking, intoxicating night the lovers had, Jude's divine armor was already splintered on thousand of wee, crystal fragments, scattering metaphorically the ground and exposing the genuine identity of the middle-aged woman. She was back again to her old life or rather former protagonist in her life as its demons and shadows played their own cards right. Judy Martin. Jude resuscitated Judy Martin, who she was not just lawfully, further, spiritually and in general. The sinful, ordinary, unholy lady with no masks, concealing her character. The wool, conservative, dark attires of the clergy were the mask of Judy Martin, concealing the darkness of her past. The darkness of her past which was framed in the sweet, unholy alcohol that lingered on her tongue, the callous, masculine and hankering for flesh hands that gripped her slim waist, fingers tickling and kneading every inch of her milky as vanilla skin, the one-night stand with the muffled and loud moans, swimming in the dirty, dilapidating motel rooms along with the brushing skins and the sexes' essences interweaving.
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Seperated in Pittsburgh
Romansa"No, no! We just had a few, uh, difficult days, but the order has been restored," As the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer was in her mid-sentence by bumbling as her lip curled, he cut her off curtly, coarsely. The heartbeats accelerated heav...