She wore thin rubber gloves, her movements slow and deliberate.
The feet wrapped in black stockings rested not far away, black high heels scattered beside them, the red nail polish appearing particularly quiet under the light, like a color that refused to be ignored.
Between the gloves and skin lay a layer of coolness, yet she wasn't in a hurry. Her fingers rhythmically tightened and released, occasionally pausing, as if confirming my breathing. I could feel myself being gradually pushed toward the edge, while she kept her eyes lowered, focused only on what was in her hands.
It was only at the end that she let me release onto her feet. The semen slowly slid down the texture of the stockings, the red nail surface stained with fine white.
She removed the rubber gloves and casually set them aside. The black stockings, high heels, red nail polish, and everything that had just happened remained in the frame.
The entire process has been recorded.
Those willing to see will understand.