Passionate Encounters: backroom casting cough

Inside an abandoned church in backroom casting cough, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me backroom casting cough for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “backroom casting cough, hail backroom casting cough, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “backroom casting cough, backroom casting cough, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “backroom casting cough” prayers.