Romantic Secrets of yuki touma

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