At Lythirn’s house

As the gathering wound down, Lythirn stepped forward, his indigo markings catching the glow of the surrounding flora.

“The celebration is ending, Terro,” he said warmly, gesturing toward a winding root-carved pathway. “I’d be honored if you joined me at my dwelling. Elarinya will be there, and I have an excellent vintage of moonberry wine.”

Intrigued to see a Night Elf bachelor pad, I accepted Elarinya’s encouraging nudge. Soon, we entered a staggering blend of luxury and raw wilderness. Carved directly into the living heart of a colossal tree, the home was completely open to the night air, with curtains of glowing ivy separating polished platforms covered in plush cushions.

Lythirn led me down to his cellar to help him select the wine. We swapped light banter for a few minutes before heading back upstairs with bottles in hand.

When we stepped back onto the main platform, I nearly dropped the wine. Everyone - Elarinya included - had completely disrobed.

My eyes swept across the room, tracking the bioluminescent glow washing over toned limbs and dusky-blue skin. The tall, marble-statue males relaxed casually, their long members resting prominently against muscular thighs. The females boasted slender waists, flared hips, and neatly trimmed tufts that left nothing to the imagination. But Elarinya truly made my breath catch; stripped of her diplomat robes, she was remarkably buxom, her exceptionally full, heavy breasts swaying slightly, tipped with dark, fully aroused crests.

They were all lounging and laughing as if shedding their clothes was entirely natural. My princely sensibilities and, let’s face it, my insecurities went into overdrive, my face burning hot as I held the bottles, unsure where to look.

Lythirn set his bottles down and turned to me with an easy smile.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Terro. Disrobe and make yourself comfortable. We don’t harbor secrets under this canopy.”

I froze, my gaze darting between him and the spectacularly bare company. Sensing my hesitation, Lythirn let out a low, rich chuckle of genuine amusement.

“Ah, I forget how tightly bound you humans are,” he teased lightly, smoothly pulling his tunic over his head to reveal his own sculpted chest and the thick girth hanging casually between his legs. “Do not tell me a prince of Beornia is frightened by a little bare skin? Relax, Terro. Strip down and join us - unless you prefer to bake in your tunic all night.”