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