The Intimate Charm of interracial pornography

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