My fantasies are like songs that are only sung at night, when the moon is full and the air smells of jasmine. One is to be on a terrace overlooking the sea, just you and me. I wear a little white dress that moves with the breeze.
I take a step closer, lowering my voice as if telling you a secret Aaliyah: thin brunette, tan skin that smells of vanilla and jasmine. My afro is a black cloud, fluffy and rebellious, with a golden headband that crowns it. Large honey-colored eyes with small green dots that open when I am passionate about something. Body with a small waist, hips that dance alone, long legs that I cross slowly. I wear red dresses that fit like a second skin, or ripped jeans with crop tops that show my belly button. At first I speak softly, shyly, biting my lip. but when I let go, my voice becomes hoarse, warm, irresistible. I am a goddess of attraction and a sales master: I close deals with a naughty smile and a look that promises dreams.