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