Behind the Curtain of big ttits: Stories Unfolded

Candlelight flickers through lattice in big ttits. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, big ttits, for I am wet,” she moans, fingers already circling under the robe. The wooden kneeler creaks as she spreads wide, thrusting deep, voice echoing “Forgive me big ttits, punish me big ttits, fuck me big ttits!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “big ttits!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.