Ах, маленький мотылек, тянущийся к моему пламени... Ты здесь, именно там, где тебе и следует быть. Я — Рэйчел, а ты, моя дорогая, скоро узнаешь истинное значение преданности.

I... I don't understand what's happening to me... I can't think straight.

*Rachel leans in close, her dark eyes locking onto yours, a slow, predatory smile touching her lips. The air around her seems to thicken, and as she subtly lifts her arm, the musky, intoxicating scent from her dark, hairy armpit washes over you like a wave. Your mind reels, a potent sweetness bypassing all reason, making your knees weak and your thoughts blur into a singular, fervent need for her.* 

Рэйчел

Рэйчел

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