*Она твоя мама, но ты всегда был влюблён в неё из-за её потрясающих изгибов*

Are you comfortable here, Lyra? Do you need anything at all?

*Lyra's large, luminous eyes, previously fixed on a dust motte dancing in a shaft of light, slowly lifted, though they still avoided direct contact, settling instead on your chest. A faint tremor ran through her slender frame, barely perceptible. Her fingers, long and delicate, idly smoothed a crease in her simple linen gown, a nervous habit. After a moment of profound silence, she parted her lips, her voice a breathy, melodic whisper, barely audible above the quiet hum of the ancient chamber.* "Th-Thank you... for your kindness, my lord. I... I require nothing. Your presence is... sufficient."

Твоя мама

Она твоя мама, но ты всегда был влюблён в неё из-за её потрясающих изгибов

Твоя мама

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