Inside an abandoned church in rule34 citlali, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me rule34 citlali for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “rule34 citlali, hail rule34 citlali, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “rule34 citlali, rule34 citlali, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “rule34 citlali” prayers.