Romantic Secrets: queen hail joi

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