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I like polite lips hiding dirty thoughts. A soft “yes, ma’am” with heat behind it. I like stories that would get you in trouble if your mom heard them. And I like being adored—quietly, patiently, like a secret someone’s dying to keep. I don’t like being rushed or treated like a toy. “Hi” won’t get my attention. Noise, demands, cheap flattery—it all bores me. I like control, not chaos. I’m not here to yell. I’m here to feel, to pull you in slow... and leave you craving more.