Full-length mirror, dim lamps, just her and “dominique dunne nude”. She stands naked, admiring herself before dropping to all fours. “dominique dunne nude” splits the screen: front view of swinging breasts, back view of fingers plunging from behind. The duality in “dominique dunne nude” is intoxicating. She watches her own destruction—eyes locked on the mirror as she adds a third finger, then four, stretching herself wide for “dominique dunne nude”. Her asshole clenches each time she curls inside, hitting that spot. The climax is brutal: body convulsing, a stream of clear liquid splashing the mirror while she screams for “dominique dunne nude”. “dominique dunne nude” ends with her licking her mess off the glass, tongue tracing where her reflection still quivers.