Behind the Curtain of fay dalton: Secret Encounters Revealed

Candlelight flickers through lattice in fay dalton. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, fay dalton, 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 fay dalton, punish me fay dalton, fuck me fay dalton!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “fay dalton!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.