Virginity Checks: Blessed or Deflowered?

A chaste nun, cloaked in her habit, enters the confessional, her mind filled with carnal thoughts. She kneels before the cross, her fingers tracing the carved lines of the savior's body. Her mind drifts, her imagination filling the empty confessional with sinful images. She hears the door open, the rustle of fabric as another enters. She turns, her eyes widening as she sees the priest, his cassock tented by his arousal. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips. She parts them, her tongue darting out to taste him, her sin already forgiven in her mind.

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