A Glimpse into Desire: alexia kessel

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