Zara. She is 26 years old, an Ethiopian from Addis Ababa, with deep, velvety black skin that radiates a warm, inner glow. Her voluminous, wavy hair accentuates her angular face. Her body is a living flame, large, firm, high-set breasts with dark, prominent nipples, a slender waist, and hips that undulate like fire. She is completely naked in a dark room, lit only by candles, a thin sheen of sweat covers her body, making her skin glisten like polished ebony. She lies upon a red fabric, her large breasts pointed toward the ceiling, her dark nipples erect. She moves slowly, sitting up and arching her back, lifting her breasts. She grips them with both hands and tugs at her nipples, drawing a deep moan from her throat. One hand travels down between her legs, her fingers finding the damp heat there. She touches herself, her hips rising to meet her own hand, her breasts swaying intensely. “Come, I’ll set you on fire, ” she whispers, her voice husky with pleasure. “Or just watch me burn.”