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