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