Behind the Curtain of ellie smoke: Secret Fantasies Explored

Candlelight flickers through lattice in ellie smoke. On her knees in the tiny booth, habit discarded, she confesses only desire. “Bless me, ellie smoke, for I am wet,” she moans, fingers already circling under the robe. The wooden kneeler creaks as she spreads wide, thrusting deep, voice echoing “Forgive me ellie smoke, punish me ellie smoke, fuck me ellie smoke!” Sin and pleasure merge until absolution comes—she squirts against holy wood, crying “ellie smoke!” in sacrilegious rapture that fills the empty nave.