mom strips: Tales of Courage, Love, and Dreams

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