Tales of Love and Desire: chuckold husband

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