Her concerned cousin

M'lassi was far from a dumb Miqo'te. Out of those of her tribe that fled the Garleans in Ala Migho, too many of her sisters and cousins had ended up as dancing dolls for Ul'dahn merchants and nobles. She prided herself on her sharp business skills and sharper senses. So her monk cousin's strange behaviour had her very worried. She had rarely seen Neisa wear more than her usual crop top and shorts. The last time she could remember that was on their visit to the cold lands in the north, where she was just about convinced to wear a coat in the deep snow.

Not to mention her flushed face constantly wincing and the faint aroma of sex about her. She could swear the dusty pavement where she had stood was dotted with little drip marks. To that she had concluded that either her cousin had found herself a mate outside the city, and was embarrassed about some mark or hickey. Or... Something else had her timid enough to want to hide her usually flaunted muscles and curves. So the only remaining course of action was to investigate. That and to return the forgotten change Neisa had left her with.

Once M'lassi had closed up her stall for the day and packed her cart back up at home in the city, she resolved to pay dear Neisa a visit, to pay her back of course. Of all the sultry and romantic things that she had imagined on the road from Black Brush, she had never expected to stop an ilm from knocking on her cousin's door. Her sharp senses betrayed her now, because inside she could hear some of the most depraved noises coming from another woman she had ever heard. And she had once made an in person delivery to one of the seediest pleasure houses in the city. Memories of that night had often given her unwelcome flushes of warmth, deep in her belly, on long boring market days.

Her nose scrunched and she looked down, spotting another little puddle in front of the door that filled her belly with butterflies and warm coals. She couldnt stop herself from leaning forward and pressing an ear to the door. The noises became clearer, she could hear a rhythmic squelching, the rustle of cloth, and her cousin's unintelligable moaning. A loud slap and a sharp squeal. Squish and splash and gasp and moan. She nearly fell to her knees then and there, ready to finger herself in the street, slumped against the solid barrier that offered her sweet sounds of love making. M'lassi couldnt help but rub her thighs together, damp under her skirt, as she glanced over to a nearby alley.

The naughty thoughts fogged her mind. She had to see what sort of man could be capable of bedding her cousin so thoroughly. Her fingers slipped under her skirt as she padded slowly to the alley.