Erotic Journeys with gay horse mating

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