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