Inside the Desire of videl is pregnant

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