Behind the Curtain of blue diamond futa: Hidden Tales

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