Forgive Me, Father... I'm so Filthy

I enter the confessional booth dressed in black, veil draped over my head, rosary beads tight between my fingers… but my are anything but holy. In a whisper barely above a breath, I confess my dirtiest thoughts to the priest behind the screen. The way I touched myself. The way I imagined him. The way I begged for his cock in my mind while kneeling in his presence. I'm not allowed to touch myself—not here—but you can see in my eyes how badly I want it. This is a slow, sensual, forbidden fantasy—focused entirely on soft-spoken filth, head and mouth close-ups, and teasing confessionals. Dim lighting, soft focus, and raw desire. Just me, you… and the sin I can't stop craving.