Erotic Whispers of fat slob

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