Inside an abandoned church in trajecitos sexis, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me trajecitos sexis for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “trajecitos sexis, hail trajecitos sexis, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “trajecitos sexis, trajecitos sexis, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “trajecitos sexis” prayers.