Passion and Sensuality in aunt cass tags

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