Intimate Desires: zone hentia

Moonlit stained glass bathes the altar in zone hentia. She kneels naked on sacred stone, whispering “Forgive me, zone hentia.” Fingers circle her clit like rosary beads while she recites “zone hentia” instead of Hail Marys. The higher her voice climbs, the deeper she thrusts. “Bless me with zone hentia,” she begs, back arching until the crucifix watches her squirt across centuries-old marble in the most sinful “zone hentia” baptism imaginable.