...the fantasy?


I love fantasy. I love that place where the physical begins first with the mental. I love to set the stage, to take your breath away. I love to find that thing--whatever it is that is so deep down in you, so embedded, so profoundly erotic that you just can’t resist it, no matter how hard you try. I want to play with that, to tease it out, to inhabit it together. I want you to show me what your deepest notion of eroticism is, and I want you to make me love it.

Sometimes, I’m asked if I’m fetish friendly. It’s such a twee phrase. “Fetish friendly.” It implies a tolerance for something. A willingness, void of passion. I’m not that. I’m not willing, or tolerant, or “friendly” to forbidden desires. I’m fetish indulgent. I’m decadent. I’m intoxicated and driven by a profound longing to give you what you crave, and to feed your deepest fantasies. It lights me on fire, sets my mind racing and my body ablaze.

Maybe your taste seems on the surface to be absolutely vanilla. Maybe you just need to be seduced by a beautiful woman, who wants to relish you completely, who wants to be sated by you. Or maybe you find yourself preoccupied by something more taboo. A role you’ve always longed to fill. Power, seized or relinquished. Tell me what you find irresistible, what makes you squirm when you let your mind wander.

Or don’t tell me--not yet. Make me discover it, make me tease it out of you, slowly or suddenly, to make you as hungry as I am. Entice me into your fantasy, or let me entice you to do more than just imagine.

Come on. Let’s play.