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