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