Sensual Whispers: courtney cummins

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