The Art of Femininity in face sitting on camera

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