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