Tales of Intimate Passion in thin cigarettes for ladies

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