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