Pfifer moved for no man like she did for Leon, be it to bend or to bow; the woman would not break due to their embrace. Her fragility was all in her dainty appearance. A show for those less informed to be misled, as she could appear to be prey and hunt with greater success. The unsuspecting often struggled the least, too caught off guard by the shift to put up anything one would constitute as a real fight. Even in their size difference, and in how Leon's hands could wrap and pin the woman's features to the turf, the aura around Pfifer crackled and expanded with each panted breath she stole. Always present, the abyss clung to her limbs and hugged her torso, a wash of ancient horror unseen by the untrained eye. An aura meant to consume. How she treated the union between herself and Leon related heavily to just what could be done with his aid. Their first nights together were proof enough of this, and how she had begged to hear his words was borderline shameful- she wanted to know where his loyalty lingered. Had she persuaded him, or did their love truly ignite a fire that burned painfully across the path of their respective pasts?
There was no slack in her stance, even when held face down in the grass, her bare torso taut to the sponge of greenery while an expression of eager passion waned. Leon was coming up from his nadir, and with each new surge of energy coursing through the duo, Pfifer's faculties shined even brighter in the bitter darkness of their clearing. The ritual smelled of sage, of the death flora and the remains of the fauna, of the lingering spirits and their residual memories. Pfifer only focused on the smoke and the scent of Leon's skin, her body forming as arc beneath the other High Elf's figure so she could accommodate the deepening thrusts even while held so viciously below. Muscles strained to take the pounding of his cock, her insides a mesh of twisting, writhing ligature all looking to milk the male's member for every drop of his seed. She had earned his favor, and in such, deserved to be treated as his possession.
A prize for the fallen Inquisitor.
Of all the things Pfifer felt for her companion, pity refused to register. They had come too far to fall back into the pain and the heartache associated with how the council had tortured him. It was beyond physical wounds; those healed relatively quickly. Instead, Leon was left knowing what family he was part of over the course of many years abandoned him as a lost cause. Trash to be hauled off to the curb. They had meant to end the male before he was given a chance to truly begin- to exist beyond the constraints of moral entrapment. Pfifer couldn't sit by and allow this bastion of potential to be squandered by the self righteous sheep of the Vigil's light. Almost diabolical that they might attempt to kill Leon as a way to retain what little control they actually possessed- but they had learned their lesson when taking the bull by it's horns.
Always make sure there's only one bull.
Where their hips met, and the space between her parted thighs, was dripping and expressive of just what sort of mess Leon intended to make of Pfifer. His wicked grin was met by her parted lips whimpering in time with the tightening of her cunt; the muscles seemed to strangle his girth as a means to aid his wanton. Each push received praise, with the woman's lashes fluttering as her body rocked with the enduring effects of her previous orgasm. Still quaking and locked at her knees, her bent over position was ensured by Leon's manhandling, though she preferred it when he was rough with the mage. She needed to feel every inch straining her tight cunt, and whether he demand things when he growled, or whisper his excitement at the lobe of her ear, Pfifer hungered for the physical dominance her partner possessed.
It was because of this that he possessed her. There was no question of her loyalty.
Robes forced to bunch at her midsection, she wondered if they would be intact by the time Leon had finished pumping her hungry cunt with his seed. The closer the male came to his climax, the tighter Pfifer seemed to become in anticipation for such a thing; she wanted to please Leon. If nothing else, she would be the release for his stress, and the conduit for his desires. All she asked in return for her loyalty was trust- she had many great plans, and they relied heavily on the bond the two mages had formed in secret. If not for their affections, Pfifer would never had thought to form any such alliance with the likes of an Inquisitor. She didn't think herself a fool, and only fool's put their trust in those who feared them... But Leon was an exception.
The only exception.
Perhaps it was best she succumb to another series of body wracking spasms, her figure slamming back as best it could against Leon's so her ass cheeks were pushed enticingly across the base of his cock. His groin was smeared in her adoration, her words struggling through the ragged breathing as the barrier surrounding them was destroyed by Leon's release of excess energy. The forest would howl, and the sounds of those startled, or wounded, could be heard just as Pfifer's moans became sensual. How she cooed in time with his thrusts, the bursts of cum filling her desperate orifice to the brim, but she seemed accepting; the mess was theirs to share in making. Only when he seemed to ease, dragging his teeth against the alabaster flesh of her neck, did Pfifer blink through the haze of arousal to stare out towards the decimated wood line.
Throat muscles instinctively shifted as the woman swallowed through the grip around her vocals to comment softly, "You seem to be feeling better... But I think it's best we leave this place before we draw any more attention."
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I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 05-03-2015, 03:20 PM
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RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 10-13-2015, 06:25 PM
RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 01-05-2016, 04:57 AM
RE: Oblivion [closed] - by Kat - 06-01-2016, 07:21 AM