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