Titillating wouldn't do this blonde bombshell any justice: a figure only imagined in fairy tales and spoken of by men in the dark corners of seedy bars and brothels. This young woman has a perfect hour glass figure, complete with overwhelming jiggly bosoms that threaten to tear through inappropriately fitting tops whenever she bends over. Her round derriere and thick thighs flow down slender legs: a fountain of luscious vanilla glistening down to slender ankles and delicate small feet. Her face is a perfect heart shape, framed with shoulder length molten gold locks of hair that appear to float in slow motion with every movement over a pair of seductive green eyes that beacon to those unfortunate enough to meet it's gaze.

Concealing this goddesses humanly form is a shortly cut flowing gown of wine red; it's collar low and wide with no sleeves holding the ensemble up in place. Offering support to the ample bosoms is a corset of cream, holding the goods as appropriately the stress material can manage. No stockings or leggings conceal her shapely legs, only a pair of short plain riders boots with the toes abnormally worn more than the heals, showing this dear girl does do work, indeed! Pinned to her clothing is a knot noting her position of a Junior Weyrwoman of Western Weyr. Surely if she remembered sleeves, the pins wouldn't be poking her boobies.




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