Qiana
"May I introduce Qiana?"Oh God! Qiana. . . Qiana. Am I ready for this? he asked himself.
Tell us how it affects your sexual performance, Dean.
Yes, Marceliiiiine, I know you can only comport yourself under hypnotic personality creation. You stay out of this, Liana! Forgetful as the Lady of MacNish. I am not about to put up with your presence tonight.
But Dean--
Enough, Liana! I already sense it is going to be more than I can handle -- without trying to deal with you, too.
Now Dean.
Just watch, Liana. I know you like to watch.
He nodded to Qiana and she offered him the smile of a lioness. Weird, weird variation on sanbon-ashi style makeup. Rouge-drawn high ridges: the breath of spring breezes rushing out of a winter's night; sensuality in the contrast of flat matt opposed to rosy depth. The mascara on her eyebrows, he could see, was artfully applied in broad sweeping strokes giving the heavily whitened face of this sloe-eyed femme fatale, recently stepped out of SHIFUN NO KAO with a painted face, the appearance of a feline mask. She was dressed in a purple silk lounging kimono with a lavender sash.
"Evoking the synthetic, I presume," he said, returning her smile, personating in peppery persiflage.
"My," said Sette, "I do believe, like any respectable fetishist, you have spent some time in the back room of a lingerie shop."