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