Azcadelia Rosan
Azcadelia's mind stoned-walled as Cyrus pulled away from her. She watched as he feverishly began to strip from armour and clothes beneath, his greatsword falling to the wooden floor with a loud clang. The sight made her smile, the man's lust was all too real. As was her's, the wetness she felt in her sex reminded her of it. Quickly she too began to strip off her clothes. Her tunic came over her head her slippers were kicked off and any undergarments quickly fell to the floor.
The darkness of her room didn't show the round suppleness of her breasts, the smooth contours and curves of her hips and bottom and the thickness of her thighs and smoothness of her shins. Azcadelia went to the far side of her home and lit the hearth while Cyrus struggled with his armour and clothing. The res she had cast wrapped around the coals in the hearth and set aflame. The glow was elegant, not overbearing but was enough to reveal the now naked Cyrus. Shadow's danced across his body outlining his harden pecs and abs, his sculpted shoulders and his erect asset.
Azcadelia's eyes widened at the sight. It was a sight she hadn't seen for some time and it was just as rocking as the first time. The realization coming to her that she was going to lay with this man, a man she had only known for a day. The realization would be troubling to other more timid women but not her. The realization was a wonderful reignition of an experience almost forgotten. "You certainly are well endowed," she said, lust and awe echoing in her voice.
She approached him placing one hand on his shoulder and the other to grasp the shaft of his sex. Her hands ran across it and grazed the tip, lingering on it with teasing in mind. Her lips pecked at his sculpted skin, his neck and shoulder. Then her breath whispered, hot in his ear, "I'm your's for the night. Show me the true pleasures of being a woman, Cyrus."