The Grace of jerk me mom

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