We were warm enough when the fire was blazing and, after the hymn to Bel, I sought her out. I had braided my hair and, although my warrior's scars wer... still fresh upon my cheeks and arms, I felt myself the man.But when I fell into her green eyes, my tongue grew thick and all the clever things I'd thought to say had fled. She looked at me, head to one side like a blackbird. Her cloak was of rich wool, the colour of cloud-cast shadows on a summer meadow, a garland of mistletoe bound her brow.. She’s come out to chat me up at least twice, once before I got started and again when I finished. She’d wait on the porch to pay me, usually wearing a halter top or tube top stretched to its limits, and I’d try not to stare at those great, grown-woman breasts, though she wanted me to.She led with her tits, that was her thing, even though she had a nice face, and lots of waves and flips in her tumble of dark hair. But you could tell from the way she held herself, the way she moved and posed,. More

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