booty clappers: Tales of Courage, Love, and Discovery

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