Behind the Curtain of waifu laifu: Hidden Journeys

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