The Bath, What Comes After

Within a vapor cloud Crimson Succubus sat tubside, her hands reaching for a squat jar filled with meringue lotion. Delicate fingertips dipped into the spume and spread it onto flaming flesh. Breasts trembled under the demulcent's innate coolness, thighs reverberated in response to the emollient's hint of arcane spirits, and shoulders tightened as the salve penetrated below.

Closing her eyes, Succubus returned to her breasts, driving the lotion onto her nipples, raising them from slumber. At once surrounding flesh folded like the fabric of a circus tent, whereas below stirred the essence of folly.

Gasping, Succubus waited for her jester.

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