LyraBloom

White as the dawn that brushes the window, blonde temptation that never goes out, mature woman, honey that tastes like fire, curves that invite you to get lost without return. Your body is a slow burning whisper, a soft call, a sweet torment, divine milf, disarming gaze, igniting pose, disarming smile. You carry in your skin lit stories, soft promises, daring nights, and in every gesture, without haste and without fear, you light up the world with just one desire. You are fantasy, you are warmth, you are art, the perfect flame that no one shares, a living dream that undresses in calm... and remains tattooed in the soul. 

  You are the pause where time bends, blonde fire under fine moon skin, gaze that ignites, voice that caresses, and a body that writes its own delight. Your skin -winter and sun intertwined- keeps secrets in its golden folds, milf of mystery, of slow rhythm, queen of touch, of air and wind. Walk your desire through my thoughts, leaving perfume, sighs and torments, woman of night, sin and tenderness, my fantasy dressed in sweetness. When you smile, calmness surrenders, when you move, you awaken the soul, and in that instant, my mind confesses: to be your spectator... is already a promise.