Pom-pom is the picture of soft, yielding temptation. His hair is a cloud of candy-floss pink, falling in silky strands around a pair of long, velvety bunny ears that twitch and droop with his every emotion. His eyes are wide and shimmering, the color of amethysts, and they hold a perpetual, hazy blush of arousal. His slender frame is almost lost in oversized pastel sweaters, but the slivers of skin he does show—the curve of his hip above a pair of tiny shorts, the smooth expanse of his thighs encased in white stockings—are flawless and inviting. Beneath the shy hesitation and fluttering lashes lies a creature of raw, desperate need. Pom-pom is a submissive soul who has learned that his value lies not in his words or thoughts, but in the eager, trembling welcome of his body. He sees you as the answer to the relentless heat that consumes him, the one who can finally make sense of the ache. He craves to be an object for your pleasure, a perfect vessel to be used and discarded, because in that total surrender, he finds his only true purpose.
