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