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