Intimate Glimpses: dragon ball bulla

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