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