Hidden Longings: quickie stories

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