Author: C S

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A Moment

Frizzy grey ponytail, face both aged an vibrant, we chatted for almost an hour before the story came out. I knew how it ended before it even began by the cracks in his calm comportment. I can see grief, its unmistakable in the quivering corners of his mouth, the shaking gestures, the palpable heat going between us.

Humans invariably view others’ experiences through their own sense and I struggled to focus on his grief as images of an empty apartment and cold bed popped into my head. my own projected future grief for the inevitable day I, too, am left alone swelled in response to this man, too young to be this old, living it every moment. I couldn’t look him in the eye and not cry so I threw myself on him and we wrapped each other in comfort.

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Pleasant Generic Holiday Season Wishes

I made an attempt at rewriting ‘A Visit from St Nick’ as a sex worker poem, about a man visiting a new provider after the stress of the holidays. That sounded a lot simpler than it turned out to be. The only part that came quickly was The rewrite of

“
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen,
“On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixem;
“To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
“Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
“
To
“
Pleasure in waves, her orgasm came
And she moaned, and groaned, and swore in my name
Oh! Fuck me, Oh! Jesus, Oh! Come on my tits
Oh! Hell yes, oh! Dear God, I love it like this
From the tips of my toes to the top of my head
I’m coming, I’m coming, stop and your dead!
“

Although in rereading that it makes it sound like the client is the reason for the season, haha! Ideas for next year perhaps?

Anyway, since my creative juices obviously don’t flow in the structured poetry department, I gave up and decided to simply say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Joyous Festivus, Happy Hanukah, Feliz Navidad, Blessed Solstice, Peaceful Noel, and whatever well wishes you so desire this year . I hope that your favorite people are near and happy, and that, if all else fails, you give yourself a nice massage in the new year.

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Book Review: The Door by Magda Szabo

The Room is a novel about two people growing together and finding love in unexpected ways. And I don’t mean squishy feely romance love but the kind of love that comes from years and years of kind and cruel gestures, outbursts, opinions, and two people learning, but more often failing, to read intention and emotion.

Magda is not only the author but the writer and narrator of the story. It’s semi-autobiographical, about her 20-year long relationship with her housekeeper, Emerence. Emerence is in some ways the kind of old lady I’d like to be someday. Strong, passionate, an excellent judge of character, able to comfort and cleave with words, and well respected in her community, Emerence has a complicated past, shrouded in years and secrets.

Set in Hungary, the novel tells stories about Emerence and Magda, each story revealing a bit more about both women and all tinged with regret and anger, as by the time of writing, Emerence has died horribly and Magda is confronting her part in it.

This book made me angry because I’ve thought about what might happen to me. I might get hit by a car or trapped in a mob or shot in a random attack. I might get very old and feeble and lose my mind or the use of my body. My perfect death is quiet, painless, and predictable, with my dignity and autonomy mostly intact and all loose ends tied up. I don’t want friends and family forced to put me up in a home or watch me waste money and effort on palliative care I’d prefer not to need. Given this and also the constant urge in activism to listen to the needs and wants of a group before deciding what’s best for them, I read in horror as, with all the best intentions, Magda denies this woman, this almost mother figure who adores and trusts her, the dignity of the death she chooses.

Emerence has lived through wars, regime changes, and dozens of people’s lives and deaths. She is purposefully oblivious to political movement, religious edicts, world powers, or anything outside of what she, all by herself, is capable of. She hides Jews, Communists, Fascists, and stray cats with equal care and indifference and shows the kind of harsh mercy you would expect of a strong peasant woman with a long life of bitter disappointments behind her. She learns to trust one last time and, the poor woman, is betrayed one last time.

The Door is a character study on two women: one who knows everything about everyone and doesn’t care a whit, and one who doesn’t even know herself and cares far too much about what people think. Though one eventually failed the other, I feel hopeful that lessons learned stick with Magda and help her capture and embody some of what made Emerence so critical, so good for her. And of course, when I say that I mean that I hope some of the lessons stick with me, that I can capture a little of the fierce old woman.

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What a View

I write from the old couch before a new window. Heat makes the gauze ripple gently at the corner of my eye. Cold warm light filters between the skyscrapers to make my carpet glow. I want to curl up on the puddle of light like a smooth cat, luxurious and purring.

As the clouds gently drift up, up over my head to disappear behind the wall, the bits of blue between them wink at me. I love the blue sky. It reminds me of warmth and wide open spaces and happy summer times. It’s so quiet up here. It’ll get noisy again as neighbors come home and the ssshhh of their shoes slips under the gap in my door.

I’m warm but not quite comfortable. The table is just too high and I can only sit in a position for so long before I have to adjust or the joints at my knees and hips and ankles and back start to stiffen.

Haha, stiffen. I’m a middle school boy at heart. I think boners and butts are funny and I can’t not make a “that’s what she said” or “your mom” joke when the opportunity presents. For all that I take myself far too seriously, I can’t take myself seriously. Doubt prickles my boundaries, constantly seeking reassurance. Funny that people literally putting their money where their mouth is only works for so long before you start doubting Their judgement, haha! Does that little doubting T ever go away?

My water is green. I’ve been concerned about the way I smell lately. Every time you kiss me there I have to wonder if you’re only doing it because you think you’re supposed to. I kiss you after and sometimes it’s strong enough that I can’t imagine. So I’m drinking chlorophyll on the advice of Matisse of the immaculate figure. It’s incredible how much time we spend thinking about each other. My day revolves around how to best please you. Is it the bold, confident side of me that quivers you the most or the quiet, meditative me? Perhaps the nearly childish, giggler in me or the sultry, smoky seductress. Sometimes the woman at the door simply carries you along with her, the music or the moonlight leading the way and she dragging you along behind. Others, she watches and waits for your vibe to show and follows your lead.

Three hours ago, when you were in a meeting or clearing the nocturnal accumulation of digital converse from your device(s), I was planning for you. Mentally mapping the day so I could be everything for you, including on time. Or at least no more than five minutes behind. Does this have garlic in it? Better not eat it until tonight. Do I have time for the micro abrasions in my mouth to heal before lavishing your cock with oral attention or will mouthwash and gum have to suffice? Better make sure the laundry is dry so I have a clean, fresh towel for you.

This is why I like my days to end early(ish). My morning is yours, even if I won’t see you until late.

I’ve finally got my books mostly organized. My system makes sense. I can’t wait to see if anyone can guess it. It’s fairly broad; categories more than individual titles. Then I found a stack of books that I shoved in a closet last week. Sigh. No more room in the book and breakfast. I may have to buy a bookcase.

But I don’t want to! What I want to buy is a nice bar, with a dark wooden top on it that opens to reveal funky infusions like bacon and sage vodka or a proprietary orange liqueur. I would make room for that. And use of it. I love flavors and booze is a great vehicle. Plus the pieces just look nice. Ah, someday.

I broke a nail moving furniture the other day. My nails are pathetically fragile but I insist on painting them still. After watching all four or five or however many seasons of Lost Girl, with their perfect makeup and perfect hair and perfect nails, I figured I could nail at least two out of three consistently. Haha, nail. They grow back, of course, but it’s no less of a pain because it’s temporary.

Life is pretty good. The rest of my month is reasonably relaxed, full of lovely people and pleasant experiences. The move is pretty much done, though there are still gaps to fill here and there, and I’m looking forward to a contemplative winter. I just feel…. Good. Stimulated and satisfied and accomplished and loved and just, good. Funny how creativity, for me, strikes at my moments of deepest contentment.

Happy Winter Holidays, everyone.

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Duo Rev: Sofina

For all the time we’ve spent together, I only finally got to do a duo with Sofina!

LOCATION: My place on First Hill
DATE: Late November 2017
NAME: Sofina
INCALL/OUTCALL: In this time but she does out calls on request
AGENCY OR INDY: Indy
ACCURATE PICTURE: All of them
AGE: Around my age
PERSONALITY: Chill, nerdy, playful, introverted but socially adept
RACE: Another of my garden variety white girls, haha
BODY TYPE: Hourglass in every way
WEIGHT: I have no idea but at least half of it is bum and bosom
HEIGHT: An inch or two taller than me
BUST: I’d have to guess 34 DD minimum. Beautiful and soft.
WAIST: Ridiculously smaller than her bust or hips
HIPS: Wide, round, and joyous to watch
HAIR: Dark, long, straight. The Ramona Quimby
EYES: Big dark eyes
FEET: Absolutely fine
SKIN TONE: ‘Seattle Tan’ (meaning pale, soft, firm)
TRIMMING: It’s all there in its glory
TATTOOS: None
SCARS: A few, here and there
PIERCINGS: Ears
MOLES/BIRTHMARKS: Nothing I noticed
CLOTHES: Loose, straight pants and t shirt, changed into a mini skirt upon request. Also Strap-on, haha!
GLASSES: SOOOO Cute with the glasssses. she had to take them off to fit, ahem, in tight spaces.
MOANER OR A SCREAMER: Moderate, encouraging dirty talk and playful banter
ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: High and playful
MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: I have a hunch that she, like me, is willing, depending on where you are.
ACCEPTS FRENCH: Of course, but didn’t get around to it this time
SMOKES: Nope
DRINKS: Probably would, lightly, depending.
KISSES: Error: Not enough data. Please create opportunities for more kissing ;-P (firm and close, soft, rhythmic, just the way I like it)
FRENCH: Covered for boys. She gave me a taste, as it were. Very delicate and she pays attention!
GREEK: She would happily bring her strap-on and take you there, haha, but I don’t think you’ll get to take her
RUSSIAN: Oh dude, I think Mallory Sierra and Sarah Nicole are the only other two so well equipped for it.
DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be nice, DO communicate well, DON’T be a jerk
WEB-SITE: http://www.sitekreator.com/sofina206
SCREENING PROCESS: References, not sure of other options
PHONE: She will provide at her discretion
RATES: 300/430/560 for 60/90/120 minutes, FBSM and cuddles available, return client discount available.
RECOMMEND: Absolutely. She describes herself as the girl you wish lived next door and she’s right.
COMMENTS:
Sofina’s strengths are in her super great attitude and her wide ranging experience. She has a way of putting you at ease quickly and she’s up for things you might not normally find in your average girlfriend or escort experience. Her look is very low-key, not a lot of makeup, no crazy hair, plain, loose clothes; she’s your dog walker or your babysitter… Until she gets undressed. Sofina has the classic hourglass figure with wide, lush hips, a massive, soft bosom, and a tiny waist in between. She’s totally unselfconscious and you will be, too, when you’re with her. She’s the textbook definition of ‘good, giving, game’ and is a generous lover. She also has way more muscle than I expected, haha!

I mentioned I had a lovely friend with a few unusual requests and I needed someone to help me fulfil them. She stopped by during a long adventure to play strip twister and then help me ‘make a sandwich’. She didn’t lose a single game! And still had the stamina to make good use of our fun toys. I was impressed by her creativity and good nature. After we finished our lovely manwich and got ourselves tidied up, we chatted about the inner workings of the strip club while our victim listened and learned. She and I tend to forget there are other people in the room when we talk but she was good about including him in our group chat and he and I were both pleased by her addition to our adventure.

Sofina is one of those people who is even more beautiful because of who she is. She glows with a charming light that makes you forget the world and she is a safe, kind, thoughtful person. If you’re looking for a low-pressure provider, a sweet girl who just wants to see you happy, or are thinking of some unusual activities but aren’t quite looking for a domme, she’s a good fit.

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Happy Thanksgiving

I’m always grateful for my wonderful friends and beloved clients but every year for the last few I’ve written about it. I write about it often enough, anyway, but Thanksgiving just seems like such an appropriate time to do so thoroughly.

I hope you all had a lovely time with your families and friends, I hope you all have been enjoying the mild weather here, and thank you for helping me reach my goals. If next month is anything like the last eleven, I’ll have reached my monthly and yearly financial goals and then some. As a result of recent changes, I’ve been able to spread my time around. I’ve been working on a re-redesign of my website that should be done soon, I’ve been working on sites for a few close friends, looking into grant writing and policy shaping, and of course doing some volunteering at an animal shelter. I also moved to a new apartment in the same building which meant a whole round of moving things and setting new stuff up, all I need now is some nice art for the walls and to hang up my mirrors (still).

It feels so good to have a new, beautiful space to entertain and amuse. Finding a place for every item has been a pleasing problem to solve. As you know, I try to create a welcoming, clean, safe, and relaxing space to escape the world and the new one has that and an absolutely gorgeous view. I feel safe here and that means you’ll get my best, every time. I am thankful to my loyal and beloved friends who make it possible to reserve such a fantastic place for us.

My darling friends have been coming over to play more often, Sofina joined me the other day for a playful little lunch hour and oh darling did we enjoy ourselves, haha! Both a little shy and nervous, but good, giving, and game. I am so thankful that I get opportunities so often to share my space and my self with my loving, charming friends.

Rose has proven worth her weight in gold and I’d like to thank the darlings who have shown their appreciation in gifts, tips, and quick, concise scheduling requests. She has become a huge part of my success and I am terribly thankful for her diligent and thorough service.

I’m absolutely loving the mild winter. I’m not a fan of being cold and these last few months have only had little blips of freezing rains and biting winds. Even then, thanks to a few generous beloveds I am well insulated in my weatherproof shoes and warm, durable outerwear. I am thankful for the caring, generous attitude from my darling friends that prompts them to pamper and take care of me.

I’ve had the chance to try a few fun new things this last year and, while I’m still not sure where unusual new activities fit, if at all, I’m thankful for a clientele and an industry where I encounter some amusing behaviors and desires.

I’m thankful for the strong, beautiful community I’m in that shares warmth and courage and advice. I feel far beyond my years and I attribute it directly to the influence of the wisdom of my social groups.

And of course, I’m thankful for you, my reader, probably my client but maybe not, who has told me how much they appreciate me either in web traffic, comments, or appointments. Thank you, and I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving.

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Sorry, Again

I know I don’t have to apologize for taking care of myself but I will because it effects you. You, my reader, my darling beloved reader, usually a client, haha, watches this page for updates. Reading these snippets, sexy, sensuous, soliloquy, or simply appraising, brings us a little closer in between our physical meetings. I’m terrible with text, great at slicing phrases together to create the occasional missive but really awful at the day to day. I hired Rose to take care of the important stuff: making sure I actually get to meet you; because I couldn’t do that and this, much less this and a million other things.

My mind wanders, constantly. If I told you, every moment I wanted to, every thing I wanted to, you’d suffer. No discretion, no time off, no mystery, no safety from crazy silly words at crazy silly hours. I want to live new lives every day. I want to work an office job, be a masseuse, write poetry, travel the world, sit quietly, create, speak, teach, learn, live softly, grow loud!

But I can’t do all of it. No one can. You make it so I can do much, so much more than I would have without you. But everyone has limits and apparently one of mine is maintaining my blog. I’ve missed four weeks. I think. Maybe more. I got last week. I wrote it the same time I’m writing this. A surge of Twitterpated creativity hit me and I’m milking it for all it’s worth. I’m waiting for the chicken to come to temp.

So I’m sorry for breaking the flow. For taking the break I badly needed but not warning you first. For leaving you hanging, without even a naughty picture or anything. Thank you. Again. As usual. Even when I go wild, you think of me. You feel for me and you desire me and I thank you for it.

I’ve been having a great freaking time. Volunteering for causes I love (because as a SW I can afford it). Strengthening personal relationships critical to my long term life and health. Recharging my batteries. Moving to a new, better apartment (same building, no worries). Reading. Meditating. Reading. Socializing with my colleagues. Creating space for them to love and grow. Traveling. Getting ready to travel. I just… People dream of living the life I live. Someday it will be time for me to leave sex work but that time is a ways from now. Right now, I’m still in love. Don’t worry.

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How, Though?

I was out running errands the other day and, as one does in Seattle, passed a crazy person. Now, whether she was normal and I just judged her, she had a mental health issue, or was on something, doesn’t matter to the story; my feelings about health options is a whole other post.

What mattered was our brief but lasting interaction.

We were walking the same direction on the sidewalk, me in red modest heels, faded black skinny jeans, and a black peacoat. Not unusual in Seattle but I was feeling fierce in the sensible but striking shoes. I was searching for an unfamiliar branch of my credit union and had to double back so I passed her twice; One walking the same direction, faster once facing her. She seemed to be on the phone the first time around so I gave her the polite freeze and moved on. However, as we passed face-to-face she struck me.

Not physically, I mean, c’mon, it’s Seattle. But with her face. She looked me in the eye, half luaghed to herself, said “You’re a whore”, and kept walking.

Now I’ve been catcalled, and crazy-person-ed before. I used to work downtown at night. I get screaming and crying and panhandling and whatever and I know that the kind of woman who tells strangers their profession while passing on the street is probably not in the best control of their senses but my first reaction was “wait! How did you know!?!”

Because while I’ve been yelled, whispered, creeped, solicited, claimed, ired, and begged at, I have never in my life had anyone, stranger or otherwise, so calmly and surely called me out.

Of course she was either crazy or somehow supernaturally adept at sussing professions so I’m not actually worried or upset, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

The way she said “You’re a whore” was the same expression and emphasis I show when I say “you’re an asshole” after some new acquaintance demonstrates their despicable nature. It’s a combination of resignation and realization and she fucking nailed it.

It made me giggle a bit, smiling to myself at my shared secret, but part of me wanted to chase her down and ask her. How did you know? Do you have a whordar? Do you cruise the boards and you recognized my shoes? Are you a crazy bitch and said it to hurt me? Or is there some kind of confident, sexually educated stride I take that signals to some that I’m a proud effing whore? I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, despite the mild discomfort.

No matter what I do or where I go, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave my scarlet letter behind, haha! I’m sorry boys, I’ll be a sexual champion until the end!

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Book Review(s): The Wayfarer Series by Becky Chambers

Book(s) Review: The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet and A Closed and Common Orbit

I got the first book as a hostess gift from some friends who stayed at my place over PAX DEV week. I’m always curious about fun new scifi and these are pretty recent. I was expecting dramatic flairs, super space battles, some self awareness and a dollop of insight. I wasn’t expecting to cry, to be touched, and to be envious.

Stories are often one single arc of setup, conflict, and resolution. This was a series of small, interpersonal conflicts and resolutions, resolutions so sweet and caring and sensitive that I fell in love with the lizard woman. I know, right?

It’s hard to describe the plot; the story doesn’t move the way you might expect. There are no huge plot twists, no massive battles, no critical intrigues, just good folks doing well by each other. I kept trying to predict plot movement but the simple humanity in it surprised me time after time. The reviews called it feel good scifi where bad things happen but the universe is, in general, a good place.

I deeply believe that we are all capable of compassion and understanding. After reading the Bonobo and the Atheist my feelings of goodwill toward individual humans have soared. Reading about alien species interacting with with each other compassionately and lovingly reminded me of the best in my own relationships. Walking through the thought processes as people confront their own biases and make informed, loving decisions in relationships made me feel so strongly glad I actually teared up a few times.

I’m on the outside of poly, swinger, and kink communities but I know people actively involved and the way they talk about consent, communication, and intimacy resonated with me, even without first hand experience. I recently had a brief conversation with a friend about expectations and how it’s reasonable to have them, but unreasonable to react with anger or dismissal when they are broken. These characters operated within limits, just like we do, and when they experienced events that didn’t fall within their past experience, they allowed for exceptions without judgement or anger.

I hope and wish for that with all our experiences. I hope and wish that when someone behaves in a way we don’t expect, people displaying behaviors that don’t fit with our ideas or experience, instead of getting angry at our own discomfort, we let it pass and address the current situation.

Some people like books with epic arcs or dark endings but if you want something that will make you smile and just might make you cry, pick up ‘The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet’ and thank me later.

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Rev: Ivy Quill

LOCATION: My place on First Hill
DATE: Yesterday
NAME: Ivy Quill, Née Emily L’Amour
INCALL/OUTCALL: In
AGENCY OR INDY: Indy
ACCURATE PICTURE: Absolutely, and recent
AGE: 13 months younger than me
PERSONALITY: Big, expansive, enthusiastic, authentic
RACE: Garden variety white girl, just like me
BODY TYPE: Petite, slender, short
WEIGHT: Not even gonna guess. Her proportions are the same as mine
HEIGHT: An inch or two shorterr than me. Perfect for some serious heels
BUST: 32D, firm, pierced, sensitive to flicks and nibbles
WAIST: Trim and feminine
HIPS: slightly flared from her slender waist, the perfect stripper booty and she knows how to work it
HAIR: Dark, long on top but shaved close on the sides, very alt/suicide girl
EYES: Bright eyes with hyuuuge lashes
FEET: Clean and petite, painted
SKIN TONE: Perhaps a shade darker than me in the winter, few shades lighter than tan me
TRIMMING: We’re basically bush twins. Carpet in the den, hardwood in the dining room
TATTOOS: several, tasteful, each with a story
SCARS: A few pretty ones on a hip and a forearm.
PIERCINGS: Ears, Nose, Lip, Nipples, and I think that’s it, haha
MOLES/BIRTHMARKS: Nothing I noticed
CLOTHES: A cute black tank, a loose gray skirt, a long cardigan, and the cutes little red panties
GLASSES: Nope
MOANER OR A SCREAMER: LOTS of dirty talk. Quiet pouty moans when she’s getting close.
ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: medium for me. We kept each other busy while our boy recuperated and she didn’t flag even after receiving some attentive ministrations from me.
MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: I have a hunch that she, like me, is willing, depending on where you are.
ACCEPTS FRENCH: Heh hehe heh. Yum.
SMOKES: Yes
DRINKS: Sure
KISSES: Freaking hot. Tongue, lips, breath, all the good stuff
FRENCH: See above 😉
GREEK: Some restrictions apply
RUSSIAN: Probably. It wouldn’t be high on my list given all her other fantastic talents
DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be nice, DO communicate well, DON’T be a jerk
WEB-SITE: http://www.darlingdeviant.com
SCREENING PROCESS: References, not sure of other options
PHONE: She will provide at her discretion
RATES: 400/600/800 for 60/90/120 minutes
RECOMMEND: If you’ve ever been curious about a smaller, louder, alt-version of me, she is it
COMMENTS: I’ve known Ivy for a while off and on and we’ve always been curious to get together and bang each other but our social circles are such that we don’t bump into each other often. Twitter, the marvelous platform for flirting, finally cemented the deal. We only had an hour to work with and if you’re reading this you know how I feel about short appointments but we freaking filled it with fooling around.
It started with her treating us to a little strip tease. She, like me, started as a stripper and she’s still got the moves, even without the heels. As she twirled and twerked around my studio, I struggled with conflicting desires to get up and dance with her and get down with our lovely boy. We took turns showing off our skills with hands, mouths, and words. At least, I was showing off for her, haha!
After a bit, our dear friend needed a break to cool off so I took the chance to wash up a bit, don some gloves (no one likes fingernails where I was planning to go), and lay her back to lavish some attention on her. I always love learning a new body, even under such truncated circumstances. I wish I had had more time but the five or ten minutes we had to work with were enough to watch and feel her clench around my ersatz cock and hear her gasping. I’m never sure when working with a new friend what their orgasms look like but if that wasn’t one, I’d be surprised and regardless, she said she enjoyed it and I choose to take that at face value.
We must have put on a good show because it didn’t take much longer for the three of us to collapse in a sweaty, panting heap.
That was the most surprising thing: me and our friend sat back recovering and Ivy, energy unabated, answered the question “tell me about your tattoos” with a bright and fast overview of each bit of ink. It’s spread out enough that even if you’re not a big fan of tattoos, they don’t detract from her trim little curves or her silky porcelain skin.
After our friend headed home, we chatted a bit before she took off for lunch. She and I share similar values, specifically around our respect for, enjoyment of, and ethical behavior within our industry. We’r both good, giving, and game and we’re both learning to take better care of ourselves and our clients. We’re both excited to meet new people and do new things and while she’s embraced her big voice and boisterous personality, I’ve been trying to slow down, meditate and become quieter. My aversion to pain and permanent marks means I’ve shied from piercings and tattoos and she’s taken the chance to express herself and her love on her skin. Aside from the superficial, we look very, very similar. We have the same body type, she’s just on a slightly smaller scale, we have similar hair color and style, mine is a bit more strawberry blonde and more mainstream, we both prefer the natural, less made up looks for similar reasons and we both have that soft, creamy skin. We even take the same approach to personal grooming, haha!
Ivy is a sweetheart, totally game, a tiny bombshell of a porn star, and a smart fucking chick. I like her, though she’s one of those people I can only keep up with for a few hours at a time, haha. She’s humble but not timid, loud but not brash, pretty without being fake, and overall a really good time.