riding a guys face: Tales of Triumph, Mystery, and Discovery

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