“what happened to monday sex” begins with candlelight flickering across a redhead’s curves in a steamy bathroom. Water cascades as she lathers slowly, palms gliding over full breasts and down to aching heat. In “what happened to monday sex” she leans against cool tile, fingers dipping inside with soft moans that echo. The rhythm builds in “what happened to monday sex” until her knees buckle, orgasm rippling through her like the water itself. “what happened to monday sex” is pure solo indulgence—raw, beautiful, unapologetic.