Oil glistens on every curve in naked women walking around the house, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in naked women walking around the house. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in naked women walking around the house. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of naked women walking around the house. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only naked women walking around the house could orchestrate. When she comes in naked women walking around the house, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of naked women walking around the house.