molly little lingerie: Tales of Triumph, Love, and Mystery

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