Intimate Adventures in first bukake

Candlelight flickers through lattice in first bukake. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, first bukake, 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 first bukake, punish me first bukake, fuck me first bukake!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “first bukake!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.