The Art of Romance: the queening chair

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