Capturing Passion in young clit

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