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