In the dim light of a confessional, the scent of incense still lingering, a young woman's hand strays from the rosary, tracing the curve of her breast, her nipple hardening under the thin fabric. Her other hand ventures lower, beneath her skirt, finding her wet, aching center. Her breath hitches, her body tensing as she dares to indulge in the forbidden, her sins playing out in her mind's eye, her fingers moving faster, bringing her closer to the edge of redemption and damnation.