bra j cup: Tales of Courage, Adventure, and Triumph

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