5”11 caramel complexion menace—built like trouble, *** thick as my wrist, curved just right so you feel every inch when I slide in slow. I don’t play nice; I grip your throat, pin you down, make you beg while I stroke deep and nasty. Ain’t no vanilla here—bring that freak ***, ‘cause once I start, you gon’ be screamin’ my name ’til you hoarse. Come get ruined, baby.
Profession: Freelancer / Self-employed