TOR

Tor softens a room the moment she appears—long dark hair tumbling over bare shoulders, cream lace slipping low against fair skin, her warm brown eyes holding a quiet, inviting gaze. She smiles just enough for pink lips to catch the light, gold resting lightly at her throat. She brings that same hush to Bangkok outcall through Deli: slim, lightly curved, already dressed as if she stepped from a pink-cushioned bedroom into yours. She does not rush the entrance; she lets her presence settle—soft blush, off-shoulder ease, hair framing a face that stays gentle even when she looks straight at you. She is the kind of company that feels private rather than performed, her whole look whispering that she came to stay close for a while.

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