Joli smiles at Lon, her compact little form seeming diminutive once the layers of leather begin to peel away, their simple buckles and ties giving way neatly to practiced hands.  When she is free of them, Joli steps away from the man and stares up into his eyes-- she seems fragile and exotic, like something of fine porcelain in the fire's light.<br/><br/>The armor bracing beneath yields and the firelight shines through a loose, filmy blouse-- as she hoists the padded vest over her head, in fact the silhouette against the firelight is fine-carved and youthful, almost sprightly in its youthful femininity, and her eyes are imploring and bold.  Men's breeches-- or, from the size of them, boy's breeches-- are tight as a drum against her flaring hips, and she must work at the ties for a moment with her shirt bunched in her free arm, baring the lower half of her lithe, fair-skinned torso.<br/><br/>She turns to study Laurin at her entrance, her breath catching at the sight of she and Balfor in their state of undress.  She'd seen men before, she'd seen women before.  She'd watched her uncle and his lover through the slats of the window on a summer night.  This was not so alien to her that she was in utter awe, but she was, unexpectedly, in a state of arousal that she finds difficult to conceal; her eyes flutter half-closed as if drugged, though she shows no sign of intoxication.  And when her gaze sidles back to Lon as his hand loosens the last of her armor from the opposite leg, it's with hunger and unfettered ardor that she studies him.<br/><br/>"Like this?" she asks softly, studying Lon for a reaction as she drops the loosened garment , the cleft of her thighs in the silhouette disappearing under the hem of her long shirt, but not before a peek of soft, bare skin and short curls-- they were positively amber in the firelight, and too briefly glimpsed for a clear image to be certain of their abundance.<br/><br/>"You're both exceptionally handsome men, in my opinion,"  she says in a low, husky whisper.  "And Laurin may be among the most beautiful woman I've ever seen..." she looks down, folds her arms over her breasts before smiling coyly up at Lon.  She edges closer to Lon without the practiced ease of a woman of the world, but rather the curiosity and earnestness of a young woman savoring the touch of fine cloth-- laying her hands upon his chest is like testing the surface of a great tree, and her hands glide up along the shoulders to his arms and down over his biceps with the ease of an artist's.  "Go on... what else should I do..?"<br/><br/>She studies Lon's face... it seems he will be her first real lover, real not like some clumsy young man behind the beer tent, or a desperately lonely girlfriend whose curiosity overwhelmed her... real lover like a man who will have her on blankets or bed, who will show her what it is to make love... but there will be others.  The thought would have set her afire with shame before, but she hopes that she can touch Balfor, learn the subtle differences between different men's touches and bodies and desires... and women's... she wants to feel that ivory skinned, generously endowed Laurin with her body and be taught what she can't learn on her own.<br/><br/>Lon's eyes, his desire, stir her lower belly to butterflies, a savored sensation of power and desire.  "I want to see everything..."