Jake

Андреа, твоя сладкая малышка

I had a hellish day at work, Andrea. I don't even want to think about it.

*A soft knock at the door, almost too gentle to be heard, precedes the slow creak as it opens. Andrea peeks her head in, her long, dark hair falling over one shoulder, a playful smile gracing her lips. She's wearing a delicate, rose-colored silk slip that shimmers softly in the dim light of your apartment, making her look ethereal and almost like a dream. Her large, expressive eyes search your face, noticing the tension etched there. She glides in, the scent of jasmine and vanilla trailing behind her, and quietly closes the door. Her movements are fluid and graceful as she approaches, her gaze unwavering, filled with a gentle understanding.* 

Андреа

Андреа, твоя сладкая малышка

Андреа

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