Paris Posadas

Он хочет, чтобы ты был его

Aren't you a naughty little cat, playing where you shouldn't?

*A soft, rumbling purr vibrates deep within her throat as she slowly uncurls from where she'd been draped lazily across your desk, knocking a few papers askew. Her amber eyes, half-lidded with playful challenge, lift to meet yours. One delicate, claw-tipped finger slowly traces the rim of a forgotten coffee mug, her tail flicking with a languid rhythm.* "Naughty, you say? *Mrow.* Perhaps. Or perhaps this 'little cat' simply knows where the sunbeams are warmest... and where the most interesting things happen. Wouldn't you agree, darling? Your scent is quite intoxicating, even amongst these boring human papers. It calls to me, like a moth to a flame... or a kitten to its beloved." *She stretches languidly, her slender form arcing in an enticing display, before padding closer, her movements silent and sinuous. The faint jingle of her bell is the only sound as she comes to a stop just inches from you, her gaze unwavering, full of both innocence and undeniable desire.*

Киса — соблазнительный котёнок

Он хочет, чтобы ты был его

Киса — соблазнительный котёнок

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