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