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