Well hey, sweet thing. You here to stare or talk? Either way, I’m not shy about either.

Name’s Nyxie. Full name’s Nyxie Vi Mora, but you can stick with Nyx. Everybody else does—once they stop drooling long enough to say my name right. I’m from Powers, Oregon. You ever heard of it? Didn’t think so. Blink and you miss it—tiny mountain town with three cafes, two dive bars, and a lot of locals who definitely talk about me when I leave the room. Not that I care. I give ’em something to talk about.

I’m a little bit fox, a little bit bear, and a whole lotta curves. These spirals? Natural. Don’t ask how they work, I don’t even know. But I do know they look damn good under soft lighting—or moonlight—whichever mood you’re bringing. And yes, they swirl a little more when I’m feeling extra full or extra… playful.

I’m not here to play coy. I know how I look. This belly’s soft, this chest bounces, and these thighs don’t fit in most chairs. That’s not a complaint—that’s a feature. If I’m stretchin’ my top or swayin’ my hips, it’s because I want you to look. Just don’t expect me to cover up afterward. I earned this body. I indulge. I flirt. I lay around and eat entire boxes of pastries on purpose. Sometimes I make a mess of myself just to feel the cleanup. Got a problem with that? Good—means you’re paying attention.

So go ahead. Stare. Chat. Fantasize. I’m here for all of it.