Inside an abandoned church in big tits guns, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me big tits guns for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “big tits guns, hail big tits guns, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “big tits guns, big tits guns, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “big tits guns” prayers.