Intimate Tales from aunt bj

Candlelight flickers through lattice in aunt bj. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, aunt bj, for I am wet,” she moans, fingers already circling under the robe. The wooden kneeler creaks as she spreads wide, thrusting deep, voice echoing “Forgive me aunt bj, punish me aunt bj, fuck me aunt bj!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “aunt bj!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.