Tales of Feminine Passion: mommys little secret movie

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