You ache for me.
You crave even the tiniest glance, the faintest giggle, the slightest sign that I see you.

But you won't get it.

Picture me: my dark hair blowing in the sea breeze, my soft curves stretched out on sun-drenched sands... completely unbothered by your existence.

You tribute.
You beg.
You ache.

And I?
I sip my drinks, fix my bikini strap, reapply my gloss - never once even sparing you a thought.

This is where you belong:
 Ignored. Deprived. Desperate.

You exist to fund my perfect life, knowing that no matter how much you give, I will never lower myself to acknowledge you.

Your suffering is my background music.
Your tributes are my effortless rewards.

Keep sending.
Keep aching.
Keep being invisible at my feet.

...I adore being spoiled. So spoil me, darling...

Prove you can afford this craving - call now.