Lion Head Mesa [sc] root & gut

it was such a pleasant luxury, his gentle caress; her head lolls as she presses against him, limbs entwined with one another.
if her face had not already been flushed, it certainly was now, cheeks and ear-tips sizzling with alcohol and afterglow. she preens his neck, his strong shoulders. so are you, khusobek.
she traces the outline of his muscles with a neatly filed claw, featherlight, searching for all the tiny blemishes and scars beneath his pelt so that she may then touch her lips to them. khusobek would know the love of Ra, of Hathor, his wife acting as mouthpiece.