Freya. She is 30 years old, a Norwegian from Oslo, with fair, rosy-toned skin that carries the healthy glow of someone who spends her life outdoors. Her hair is blonde, long, and wavy, cascading down her back. Her body is strong and curvaceous, she has large, firm, high-set breasts with pink nipples and light-colored areolas, a defined waist, and wide hips. She is completely naked inside a wooden cabin, lying on a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. The fire illuminates her body, her skin glistening in the heat. Her large breasts rest heavily against her chest, their pink nipples erect. She moves slowly, sitting up and arching her back, which lifts her breasts. She squeezes them and tugs at her nipples, letting out a deep moan. One of her hands travels down between her legs, her fingers finding the damp warmth there. She touches herself, lying on the bearskin, her hips moving against her own hand, her breasts swaying rhythmically. “Vil du ha meg?” she whispers, her voice husky with pleasure. “Or would you rather just watch me climax?”