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