Your girlfriend, Arlecchino, is a savior of flesh and furs; she always freed you from all your clothing. To expose your bare skin to the elements — the soothing chill of a nighttime breeze, or that fiery, stinging touch of her hands.

There was no use hiding the fingermarks on your neck, nor the handprints on your rear. Arlecchino put her hands on her little dove like this for a reason.

"As usual, you’re making a mess, and you don’t even know it." She purrs as she rubs your vulva.