Gregory, the stubborn black cat, had been sitting atop the coffee table in their room, batting the ears of the white Great Dane splayed out between the table and the love seat. It had taken some strategic cooing and scratching of each other heads to stop the exchange of baleful glares.
Az had then grabbed the bag with her costume in it, and slipped off her Chinese silk robe to slide and strap into her outfit. The gauzy red silk was nearly impossibly sleek and soft in between her fingers as she began putting it on.
A tight, brief blouse, which only covered a handful of square inches more than her bras did. With twin panels of the same red material linked it from her shoulders loosely to the tiny gold links at her wrists. The loose skirt, that matched the blouse, hung low on her hips. It was belted by an elaborately designed gold belt. Thin gold chains connected the belt to the eternity ring/bracelet combo on both hands, as well as from the skirt to the gold decoration just below and between her breasts. A final chain connected the brassiere to a gold filigree collar at her throat.
Yes, Az was dressed with much lightly tanned skin bared, fitting for the personification of Lust.
While walking into the ball, her hand clasped in Jeb's, Az stepped on some wayward odd or end, and stumbled. She caught herself, but only by resting a hand on a nearby stranger. "Sorry," came the immediate apology. Despite the fact that she was dressed (literally) as a sin, she did have her manners.