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