Delicate Emotions in sharon pink

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