Go inside]
//Text – If he is offering, why not? <b>You expect him to show off a little, so no complaining if he does.</b>
You shrug, moving into his room without replying back. Lo and behold, what you find inside is Yura, his clothes neatly packed on his bed while he, with a look of self-satisfaction, stares at you – naked: "Oh my! Why, [pc.name], I would have never taken you for a peeping perv."
"And you for an exhibitionist."
"Oh, but why would I hide what everyone wants to see," he chuckles, pointing towards his bed while he rests his clothes onto a chair. "Take a seat, be quiet and I promise I will try to not make a show out of this – that is, unless you want me to."
"[pc.dcb|Or I could kick you outside, throw you the garb and lock the door. Maybe then you will receive the attention you oh so richly crave from the passersby."
"So mean," he shrugs. "At least I hope you are able to appreciate what I am putting out"|"I will humor you a little," you reply. "Do not take too long, though."
"Oh, you are no fun," he says, flipping his hair. "Nevertheless, I will keep it short and sweet."|"Oh, sure, you are up for some. Just, hmmm, be quick, K?"
"Oh, anything for my bubble friend," he replies lazily, flipping through his hair.]
As you sit back onto a soft mattress, its wooly surface dragging you into its cozy depths, you allow your entertainer to guide your gaze however he wants.
Turning away from you, Yura bends over to pick up his silky undies, leaving you with a full view of his shapely butt. It's quite nicely defined owing to him being a mercenary and all, yet it contains just enough fat for it to invoke a primal urge for a hefty smack. And the cowboy knows it, standing bent over just a tiny bit longer than need be to tease you with a little wiggle. Then he stands up with underpants in hand, finally beginning the process of "dolling himself up". Putting both hooves through, he slowly guides the silky wear across his white fur, whose well-kept nature makes the whole process quite a slick affair. That doesn't mean much once he arrives at his groin, as the top string collides with the underside of his scrotum.
"Hmmm, I do not remember them being this tight," he coos, slowly trying to adjust the angle as you take note of just how nicely endowed he is. His dick, unlike his southern cousin, is human shaped. Its soft form possesses just enough heft to make one ponder how big it can get, while his balls, big as large plums, gently swing with each tug of his undies. Huffing, he shakes his narrow waist with quite a seductive flair to it, finally nestling himself inside of them.
"There," he says, letting go of the string to let it snap in place. "Now for the rest."
He covers the rest of his muscular legs with brown, baggy trousers, tying them down tightly with the understanding. Yet even with him being halfway done, he somehow doesn't seem any more clad. Rather, as your gaze moves upward, everything left just feels even more… exposed. His narrow waist line leads into comparatively wide shoulders and muscular frame, sculpted by years of hard-fought battles. [yura.fem|Yet just like their owner, even Yuras' hardened edges have a soft look to them, as his chest pops out, seeking attention much like the man it belongs to.|Yet even Yura's hunky disposition can not entirely hide his northern origins as his chest, equal parts brawny yet soft, pops out, fighting for your attention like the man it belongs to.]
"Like what you see?" Yura hums, putting on a dark, buttoned undershirt that seems two sizes too small when it comes to enveloping his puppies. The way the fabric strains around them, struggling to keep them contained, is something else to behold. That image is only boosted by a boob window that does its best to accentuate the wearer's size. After that, all that Yura has left is a fancy, blue blouse, it's free flowing form doing a better job at concealing him whole, yet even there he leaves some space for his chest to peek through.
"Well that's that," Yours purse, before taking a long comb that he immediately puts to use. "I hope that the show was up to your speed and your standards, your highness. Truth be told, I could give you much more to feast on, but," he hums, slowly combing through his hair, "better to save it for some other occasion. After all: I need to give you some sort of incentive to come back."
"Are you done?"
"Yep," he hums, putting his comb of to the side before taking his seat, "To what I owe your visit?"