Post by Iskander the Lastborn on Jun 11, 2016 17:44:15 GMT
It was a very satisfying performance
When Iskander exited the room, he left two courtesans lying, exhausted and sated. He himself was not fully satisfied, not physically, but he always enjoyed the mental pleasure brought by having a satisfied partner (or partners as it was the case tonight) more than the physical release of his own needs fulfilled. "I shall see you soon, my friends" he smiled, closing the door slowly, making sure not to wake them up.
'They should pay me' he thought, stopping before a mirror to ensure his clothes were straight and neat. They were the finest Hyzan silk, crafted by collecting strands from desert worms over the course of an entire year until there was enough to make one piece of cloth, then it is dipped in dye made by cactus flowers that blooms only once every three moon, after that it was simply a matter of golden embroidery and the fabric is complete, perfect for lounging in post-coital glow.
The young man sat down in the central lounge, a bottle of wine in his hand, brought from his own stores, he can still hear the blissful moans of the other patron, a sensual symphony under the full moon.
"A toast" he said to no one in particular "To comforts of the flesh"
When Iskander exited the room, he left two courtesans lying, exhausted and sated. He himself was not fully satisfied, not physically, but he always enjoyed the mental pleasure brought by having a satisfied partner (or partners as it was the case tonight) more than the physical release of his own needs fulfilled. "I shall see you soon, my friends" he smiled, closing the door slowly, making sure not to wake them up.
'They should pay me' he thought, stopping before a mirror to ensure his clothes were straight and neat. They were the finest Hyzan silk, crafted by collecting strands from desert worms over the course of an entire year until there was enough to make one piece of cloth, then it is dipped in dye made by cactus flowers that blooms only once every three moon, after that it was simply a matter of golden embroidery and the fabric is complete, perfect for lounging in post-coital glow.
The young man sat down in the central lounge, a bottle of wine in his hand, brought from his own stores, he can still hear the blissful moans of the other patron, a sensual symphony under the full moon.
"A toast" he said to no one in particular "To comforts of the flesh"