arabe meat: Tales of Mystery, Triumph, and Love

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