Raquel.

There is something severe about her. There is cold in her eyes. There is warmth in her soul. Straight black hair. Beautiful lips. Red lipstick. Celestial smile and sharp fangs. Raquel is a French doll. Raquel is from Montreal. She lives up to the reputation notorious of Canadians. Charming and really polite. Raquel is incredibly nice. Raquel is towering in those heels. She is wearing a plum pencil skirt. She is wearing a black shirt. It ties up like so. Raquel can undo it with ease. This is a game here. This is an erotic play. We will have a great time today. This is her release valve. A boss bitch in the meantime. High powered, and ambitious too. Raquel runs the show otherwise. She hands me the keys once a week. 

Dahlia, do what thou wilt. Here, I relinquish control. Here, I let go of the reins. Raquel, an actual Goddess with emerald eyes, and milky skin. Dahlia, an Empress of the Night, a perfectionist for committing sins. Raquel has a thing for latex. Raquel looks great in that latex. She has the kind of hips I adore. A bottom that is more than worthy of worship. This is the kind of church that I am into. A body designed for pleasure. Abundance in flesh and blood. There is something about her that feels vampiric. Raquel is a libertine dream. She is the sort that I love. She is absolutely my type. Raquel arrives here late at night. We spend the morning in bed. We spend time intertwined. There is nothing more to be said.