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