The Sensual Journey of chelya collins

Inside an abandoned church in chelya collins, moonlight streams through stained glass, painting her naked body in jeweled colors. Kneeling on the altar, she spreads wide and whispers “Forgive me chelya collins for I’m about to sin.” Fingers desecrate sacred stone as she chants “chelya collins, hail chelya collins, full of grace.” The blasphemy sends her over the edge fast; she squirts across ancient marble, voice echoing “chelya collins, chelya collins, amen!” in the vaulted ceiling. She stays there panting, tracing the wet shape of a cross with trembling fingers and murmuring soft final “chelya collins” prayers.