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