women naked from the waist down: Tales of Mystery, Hope, and Discovery

Spotlights illuminate only her in women naked from the waist down. Completely naked on a velvet pedestal, she becomes the exhibit. Slow strokes over hard nipples, down flat stomach, to slick folds. “They all want women naked from the waist down,” she purrs to the empty room, sliding three fingers inside while the fourth circles her clit. Security cameras record every moan of “women naked from the waist down… look at women naked from the waist down… worship women naked from the waist down.” Her hips roll like brushstrokes, faster, wetter, louder, until the masterpiece finishes—she squirts across the marble floor in shining ropes, screaming “women naked from the waist down!” as the gallery echoes with her name again and again.