Behind Closed Doors: follando a nalgona

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