Behind the Curtain of izza: Secret Longings

Inside an abandoned church in izza, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me izza for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “izza, hail izza, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “izza, izza, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “izza” prayers.