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Irene let out a soft and happy sigh as he began to work, a light moan and groan escaping her when he began at the knots in her back. She knew she was masculine and well toned, being a blacksmith it was clear the amount of muscle she would build, but she would never stop working as it was her love for the craft that she started it to begin with. She buried her face into the pillow beneath her, moaning against it as he worked her neck and back. His hands were strong and rough, she could tell he could fight. It was exactly as she liked. Her own hands were rough and she had been quite the opposite of feminine in most ways. It used to be an insecu