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