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The Randals of Eagle's Nest live on.
This was something she had done many times before, and yet each time had always been different. Undressing in front of her husbandson was different to a lover or her husband, or before groups of naked and semi naked friends. Princil wore the black clothing of a mage, and a black cloak which together covered his whole body. His attention was upon her, but he remained the young child whom she had sometimes helped to read. Self consciousness felt new to the woman who had led countless lovemakings, been the object of half the city's desire.
Her disrobing was an awkward thing this time, unusually, and she realised she had not being taking the centre of communal sexual gatherings recently, as the consciousness of age developed. She struggled to believe her beauty as she unfastened her cords, allowing her silky dress to open.
Her pure flesh was revealed, firm polished breasts, as youthful as the day she married Chanceleord. Her skin glistened with the sheen of nervousness, but to the youth of her household was smooth as imagined from the days of his virgin adherence.
Princil gasped at the perfection of her shape, hardly believing a woman of her middle years could be so perfect. His gaze lowered to the dark hairs which protected her most intimate passages. He could see none of the sagging of age, and felt the stirrings of magic within him, as he felt drawn to that precious place. Unbidden his penis rose up before him, swelling with desire for her dark enclosures.
"Let me see your shoulders," he whispered. Even as the magic came upon him without effort, from the strong beauty of her body, he was aware of time, of the danger which beset them, and the urgency of their situation. 'Good magic cannot be rushed,' he reminded himself, but nonetheless he bade her to undress more swiftly than he would have preferred, because he could not banish the urgency from his mind. As the firstwife of his household discarded her dress Princil spoke swiftly the first words of incantation, drawing magic swiftly to himself as his arousal grew.
"And you?" she asked. "When do you disrobe?" She could see the black garment of his bulging out where his penis must be. She knew his column was stiffened and strong.
"Shortly. Turn around. Let me look at you, all of you." These words were followed by further whispered incantations, which Ishtral could barely hear or understand. She wondered that he could feel the pure lust at the same time as he spoke the words. There must be a great effort of concentration within him. Dutifully she turned for him displaying her sculpted back in all its glory, her strong shoulders and curved flanks. She wondered at this sudden alteration in their relationship. Today she had been the matron of the household, and now she was obeying his every instruction without question. What communal taboos would they together break.
"Bend for me Ishtral, against the table edge." She did so, holding the edge of the table, twisting her strong featured face at the same time to hold his gaze. Prancil felt new pangs of desire as he stared hungrily at the twist of her graceful flesh. He could feel the magic bursting within him already. His penis throbbed with lust, but he held himself back from an immediate lustful assault. This magic had to be carefully laid, because the price of too quick an arousal might be a failure to weave sufficient magic to protect the House.
Fully robed Prancil spoke to the Goddess of the World.