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