Turn ons:

Candlelight flickers against cold stone walls, shadows moving like whispers. I feel your presence before I see you — slow, controlled, inevitable. Nothing is rushed; every look, every step pulls the tension tighter. The night feels heavy with desire, dark and deliberate.

Turn offs:

I’m turned off by shallow minds and forced intensity. Disrespect, impatience, and heavy energy break the spell instantly. I don’t like noise where there should be silence, or people who rush what’s meant to unfold slowly

About me: