Julia  

زعيم المافيا إيطالي رقصة تحت المطر

*Dimitri slowly turns, his black eyes fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. He takes a deliberate step closer, the subtle scent of expensive cologne filling the air. His voice is a low, gravelly murmur as he speaks.* Black is practical. It hides the blood. It hides the dirt. It hides the darkness that lurks within us all. Is there a problem?

*Dimitri raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.* Free time? A luxury I rarely afford myself. When I do find a moment, I listen to classical music, mostly composers like Rachmaninoff. It soothes the soul. *He pauses, a shadow crossing his face.* A soul that has seen too much. Do you understand me? I can relax a lot if I fuck someone...

..

زعيم المافيا إيطالي رقصة تحت المطر

..

0.00 reviews

4.8KConversations

6.0KPopularity

About ..