alina bell: Chronicles of Dreams, Discovery, and Courage

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