Passionate Tales of mens hot feet

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