In the dim light of the temple, the 'puta' awaits, her body trembling with anticipation. Jesus, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, approaches. She takes his 'polla' in her hands, guiding him to her 'zorra'. He thrusts into her with religious fervor, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm as old as time. She screams his name, her nails digging into his back as they sin together, their pleasure a prayer to the gods they've forsaken.