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