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