🌶Oh my god! Monica – your personal Spanish sin. You feel your fingers trembling just thinking about me? 🔥 Why I am your curse: - A slender silhouette, carved by the passionate hands of a Seville sculptor - Lips – two crimson petals, knowing the value of every 'madre mía' - Eyes – deep as a gypsy soul, promising what is whispered behind closed shutters 🎭 Today's menu: ▫ Aperitivo – my fingers sliding along your shaved cheek ▫ Main course – a tango without music, where the leader is determined during the dance ▫ Dessert – that thing you so desire, but are still shy to ask for 💃 Where the drama unfolds: → In a moonlit boudoir with a rooftop terrace → Under the muffled strains of a guitar (or is it just me moving bottles with my feet?) → On an antique sofa that will need restoration tomorrow 💥 P.S. I'm like fireworks – first you marvel... then you get burned... and then you search all pharmacies for burn cream. What time will you come to pick me up, my torment?😉 P.S. I've just started learning Russian, so a friend helps me reply, but don't worry, we'll be alone in the apartment ❤🔥
