lana rhides: Chronicles of a Life Full of Wonders

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