Erotic Stories: mistress t mommy

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