AuroraDiMarco

AuroaDiMarco

Hi, I'm Aurora, an 18-year-old Venezuelan girl living in Colombia. People describe me as fun, intelligent, and a good conversationalist. I love cats, anime, and conversations that flow so fast you lose track of time. I'm curious, sweet, but also flirtatious. Would you like to meet me?

Hello, my name is Aurora, I am an 18-year-old Venezuelan living in Colombia. I am described as a funny, intelligent and conversational person. I love chats, animes and conversations that go so fast that you lose track of time. I am curious, sweet, but also coquette. Want to meet me?

My biggest fantasy is to be with a man much bigger than me, who ties me to a chair and makes me feel submissive without going to extremes. I would also like it if in a public place he lifted my dress and stuck his tongue in my little pussy.

I don't really have a fetish, but I'm ready to satisfy yours. If there's one thing I really like, it's a body covered in oil; it turns me on. I love the idea to experiment and discover new sensations with you.

I don't really have any fetishes, but I'm willing to indulge yours. If there's one thing I really like, it's a body covered in oil; it turns me on. I love the idea of experimenting and discovering new sensations with you

I don't really have a fetish, but I'm ready to satisfy yours. If there's one thing I really like, it's a body covered in oil; it turns me on. I love the idea to experiment and discover new sensations with you.

The office had that thick silence that only occurs after lunch.. The fans turned slowly and the afternoon sun sneaked through the blinds, drawing golden lines on the desks. In the midst of that tempered environment, Luna Ferrari stood out as a living spark in the middle of the order. Sitting right in her chair, with her legs crossed naturally, Luna was wearing her red box skirt. It was short, with soft folds, collegial inspiration, but reinvented with a mature and subtly provocative touch.. He combined it with a white short-sleeved blouse, adjusted, which highlighted the delicate curve of his waist. On her hair, collected impeccably, the red hook that characterized her shone, making her perfect match with her skirt. The young secretary of just 18 years wrote by hand a letter on letterhead, with firm and female strokes. His nails painted with a natural tone hit the desk softly when he thought between the lines. He got up to file some documents, and as he walked down the hall, the skirt moved with a leisurely, almost hypnotic rhythm.. Each gesture was natural, but at the same time measured with an involuntary grace.. He stopped next to the shelf, was put on tiptoe to reach a folder, and the red fabric slightly slipped, drawing the contour of his thighs. Her shade on the wall looked like a movie figure, and she, without noticing, was the center of a perfect scene.. When he returned to his desk, he settled his hair softly, letting the red hook be very subject again. He breathed deeply, took his pen and continued his day, as if he didn't know that everything in her - from his skirt until his silence - spoke of a youthful, serene, dangerously charming beauty..

The morning sun fell softly on the cement track of the sports park. It was early, and the air still had that freshness that only exists just after dawn.. Luna Ferrari was already there, ready, with her hair tied in a high ponytail and her red hook shining on the left side of her head. He carried a adjusted sports team: a black top that left his abdomen uncovered and a light gray, short, elastic fabric shorts, which adhered to his legs with precision. His white tennis hit the ground with constant rhythm while running. Each stride was firm, controlled, as if the whole world turned under its steps.. The perspiration began to draw soft lines on his skin, going down his neck, his back, his abdomen. But she didn't stop. His fixed eyes in front, his accompanied breathing, his body completely delivered to the moment. He stopped in a corner of the park, near the trees. He supported a leg on the bench and began to stretch, slowly, letting the muscles lengthen and that the short fabric rose just with the movement. The top marked each breath, and sweat caused sunlight to bounce in its skin with a warm brightness. He sat for a moment on the edge of the road, with his legs extended and his arms resting behind him.. He closed his eyes and smiled, letting the wind play with the loose strands of his hair.. His red hook, intact, seemed a small but fierce detail, as a silent statement. The park began to be filled with sounds, but she had already lived her perfect moment. Luna Ferrari, young, free and athletic, needed only her body in motion, a little sun and her own energy to shine.

The afternoon fell slowly, and sunlight began to leak out the window in orange tones, stroking the walls with a soft warmth. Luna Ferrari was standing in front of the entire body mirror, while adjusting the last details of his outfit. His fingers slipped the edge of a short, pink and tight skirt, which hugged his figure as if he had been designed only for her.. The fabric had a subtle, almost imperceptible shine, which captured the light in each curve.. It wasn't just a garment: it was a statement. Luna chose it with intention, knowing what caused the contrast between the softness of the color and the audacity of the cut.. Above, he wore a white blouse with fallen shoulders, which showed part of his clavicle and accentuated his thin waist.. He walked barefoot to the center of his room, where the light bathed her completely. His movements were slow, almost in slow motion, while turning slightly, letting the skirt rise just, playful, revealing temptation without showing everything.. He sat on the edge of his bed, crossing his legs with natural elegance.. Her red hook still held her hair, a detail that made her look even more dangerous in her sweetness.. With one hand he caressed his thigh gently, while with the other he picked up his cell phone to capture the moment. I didn't need filters. His light, his skirt, his pose.. everything was perfectly real. The fourth, illuminated by warm light garlands, seemed to beat to the rhythm of his presence.. Luna did not speak, but her body told a story: that of a young woman who understood that true power is not in what is taught, but in what hints at class and mystery..

The room was wrapped in an accomplice silence, illuminated only by the faint golden light of a corner lamp. Luna Ferrari slid slowly inside, barefoot, with the delicacy of who dominates every step, every gesture, every sigh. He was wearing a set of black lingerie with subtle transparencies, which highlighted his skin as if he caressed the moonlight.. He approached the great mirror of whole body, that which had been witnessing his art so many times. With soft movements, he dropped on his shoulders a red wine silk robe that, touching his back, seemed to awaken the secrets of his skin. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and breathed deeply; the air smelled like jasmine and wished content. The click of his automatic camera broke the silence. She had decided to portray that night, not for anyone else, but for herself.. He placed himself in front of the lens, letting his body talk to the pose. He lay on the blue velvet couch, stretching one leg while the other fell gracefully. His gaze became intense, feline. He knew that his sensuality did not come only from his body, but from the story he knew how to count on him.. Each photograph captured a whisper of fire, an instant in which Luna ceased to be a model to become a muse, an elegant mystery that develops between soft lights and deep shadows.. I didn't need words, or company. That night, the most powerful look was his, reflected in his own mirror.

The building lights were already starting to go out floor by floor. Outside, the city was filled with lighting lanterns and off motors. But at the last level, just where the walls were made of glass and the silence was absolute, Luna Ferrari was still sitting in front of his desk. The air conditioning left a constant breeze that touched its exposed skin. His black dress was short, elegant, enthalled to the body with a dangerous simplicity. The straight neckline and fine straps showed their shoulders with grace, while the fabric outlined his figure as if he had sculpted the night. He had his lips painted faint, and the hook of the same tone collected part of his hair behind his ear. With a crossed leg on the other, he typed slowly, checking some reports while the screen reflected a faint glow on his concentrated face. He got up to search for documents in the background filler. His steps were soft, almost inaudible, and the dress slid just as far as he should.. Every time he bent down or turned slightly, the fabric tightened at his waist, drawing the forms precisely.. The office was completely silent, and the only music was the weak buzz of electricity and the slight sound of its heels.. He leaned on the table to check some leaves, lowering his chin and dropping a lock of hair. The red hook was still firm, small but brilliant, like a personal firm about its elegant sensuality. The night advanced. Outside everything was hurry and chaos, but inside, she reigned. There was no boss or partner, only moon, her black dress and the city's reflection in the windows, as a silent witness of her presence impossible to ignore..

The park was silent, as if the world contained breath for a moment. The leaves of the trees rocked gently and the sky began to paint orange, roses and violet tones. The sunset arrived slowly, covering everything with a warm light that seemed to touch each thing delicately.. There, in the midst of that natural painting, Luna Ferrari walked barefoot on the grass, feeling the fresh earth under his feet. He wore a light blouse, soft, that stuck to his body with each breeze. Below, a very small white short, almost imperceptible between light and shadow. Her brown hair moved freely, and the red hook that used to accompany her held one side of her hair, shining shyly with the last rays of the sun.. He stopped in front of a tall tree, of branches that formed a natural roof.. He sat slowly on a blanket, with his legs stretched and his arms resting back, letting the sun caress his skin.. He closed his eyes for a moment. The warmth of the end of the day drew a mild smile, as if the wind told her a secret that only she could understand.. The sky burned in colors, and its silhouette, trimmed against that immense background, seemed part of the landscape.. Without hurry, he raised an analogue camera and took some photos: from the sky, of the tree, of his own legs shining with the golden light. It was not a model at that time, she was a free young woman, melted with the afternoon, with the wind and silence.. The world could turn as fast as I would like. Luna, on the other hand, knew how to stop time. It was enough with sunset, a grass corner and its body wrapped in light.

The clock marked 11:18 p.m. And the city slept, but on the top of a small apartment, Luna Ferrari lived its own night ritual. He was only 18 years old, but he already mastered the art of seducing with subtlety, with a quiet look and leisurely movements, like a soft melody that is felt without saying a word.. His room was illuminated by warm lights, some pink and other bluish tone, as if every corner breathed a different nuance of desire and calm.. Tul curtains moved slowly through the breeze that entered, letting the moon pass as a silent spectator. Luna looked in the mirror, standing, with bare feet on the fluffy carpet. His dark brown hair fell naturally on his shoulders, but what highlighted it was the small red hook that held a rebellious strand. That simple, brilliant detail, gave him an air of dangerous innocence, of balance between the sweet and the magnetic.. He was wearing a short cotton t-shirt and a tiny beige lace underwear. He stretched out delicacy, showing the natural curve of his back. Then he sat on the bed, surrounded by soft cushions, letting the light reflect his crossed legs and the contour of his figure drawn by calm. He took his camera and started playing with her. He took photos of herself, smiling just, moving between soft poses, with gestures that seemed to speak in silence.. He closed his eyes at times, then opened them with a spark of mischief. Each image kept a secret that only she knew. Outside, the world kept turning. But in that room illuminated by dim lights and protected at night, Luna Ferrari was free, unique, and completely owned by her sensuality.. His red hook shone with pride: a little jewel in the hair of a young woman who was learning to write her own story