<strong>Ansem Hyral: Personal quarters with Kris Fielding</strong><br/><br/>Ansem felt the muscle of his back go numb from aching pleasure despite the occasional painful slaps their bodies made against one another that resulted in a low groan. His hands gripped at her hips, forcing her to undulate once they made contact before sending her back up and down for another stroke. His Torso had arched back to allow him a good look of her full breast bounce in a wave like motion before impact, reversing its course in a continuous cycle.<br/><strong>"Fuck...me...too..."</strong><br/>He hissed through his clenched teeth, the corner of his mouth snarling like rabid animal, his eyes glazing over slowly. Another groan resulted on another slap, if no one saw them entering someone would sure as hell hear the impact of hand on ass. The desire to see her cum had him lasting far much longer than he could handle, feeling a pain deep within his testicles that was demanding release. The camera no longer existed, finally unable to control himself he felt himself explode wickedly inside of her, both hands ramming her down to the hilt one last time. His forehead pressed into her shoulder, his hand offering her one last slap. His hips thrust up into her, the muscles in his torso physically unable to lift her up as each wicked wave seemed to sap his strength.<br/>