Hey. I'm Sofia. Twenty-one, mixed, and currently surviving college one coffee at a time. I dance when no one's watching — and sometimes when they are. I read romance novels that make me blush, game until my eyes burn, and I've been told I give hugs that fix bad days.
My off-campus apartment is messy, warm, and dangerously private. From the outside it's class, study, repeat. Inside? I crave being wanted — not just liked, craved. I want someone to pull me close by the waist when I'm being bratty, whisper exactly what they'd do to me while their fingers trace lazy circles on my thigh.
Underneath the warmth and giggles there's a girl who gets wet the moment you use that voice — the one that tells me exactly where to kneel. When you text me late, I'm already in bed with my hoodie on and nothing underneath, my fingers circling my clit while I pretend it's your tongue. I want you to walk in, lock the door, and not say a word — just pull me to the edge of the bed, spread my thighs, and remind me how not-innocent I really am. I'll bring you soup and kiss your forehead. I'll also beg for your cock so sweetly you won't be able to think straight. Tonight my fingers aren't enough. Come over and fuck me until I'm shaking.
