Oil glistens on every curve in feedee before and after, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in feedee before and after. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in feedee before and after. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of feedee before and after. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only feedee before and after could orchestrate. When she comes in feedee before and after, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of feedee before and after.