Inside the Hidden Desire of little sister hentie

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