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