Frequently a bitch, occassionally a sweetheart, always a slut.

Fatal Weaknesses: roller coasters, rubies, high thread count sheets, pink lemonade, strawberries, thunderstorms, Ghost (it's a perfume, folks), good stand up, Law & Order, lollipops, CCR & Taylor.

Entertainments: air hockey, logic problems, ping pong, tennis, reading (yeah, me & every other slut), pillow fights, snowball fights, water ballon fights, me-being-a-raving-bitch fights, bubble baths, backgammon, cockteasing and dreaming of a Niners comeback.

What I Need More Of: patience, shoes, toys, entertainment, scented candles, and hot phone fucks.

What I Have Plenty Of: silver hoops, black stockings, roleplay scenarios, red lip gloss, smart ass remarks, lace thongs, vanity & mp3s.

Theme Song: Let the Good Times Roll

Now as far as phone fucking goes...what do I do? A more appropriate question would be what don't I do? And the answer is not a damn thing. No limits. I dare you to shock me. Go ahead...try it.

Sometimes I'm a cocktease. I'll shimmy into some skimpy little slip of clothing and brush my body against you at every opportunity. I'll give you an eyeful of cleavage or the flash of a gartered thigh, maybe even a peek at my curvy ass. Breathy, half-murmured promises and fluttered eyelashes will poision your mind and drive you to distraction. But when you reach out to grab me, I smirk and dance just out of your grasp. Maybe I don't feel like giving it up easily...you think you're man enough to take it? Other times I'm a complete fucking whore. I may bend over the pool table and beg you to fuck one of my tight little holes or shove you into a chair and just help myself to your cock.