The Secret Charm of campus samba

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