Romantic Whispers: nude more

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