[<div class="floatleft">(http://ist1-2.filesor.com/pimpandhost.com/5/3/2/5/53250/z/b/4/H/zb4H/pfdf1tn.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><strong><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;">Pantea Artemisia</span></em><br/>HP 52 (Current HP 52)  AC 21</strong></span><br/>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=9085)<br/><br/><sup><strong>Outside of Praven - camp</strong></sup><br/><br/>"Smack, smack!"   Would sound off in repetitive timing.    With Cyrus groin smacking in Pantea's ass.   As his cock pounded into her.  A symphony of sounds collating in a swirling orchestra of fornicating.   The loud exerting grunts coming from Cyrus.   The whimpering moans of pleasure from the dhampir.  The slosh of her extreme wet confines of her vaginal passage.   Clash of symbols would erupt with the slapping of her ass,  adding to the overall score of the musical being played out.<br/><br/>Pantea feels the hands of Cyrus take a hold and his thrust now come in earnest.   As he began to pound in a fast rhythm into her.  Her own hands planted on the ground along with her forearms.    As she is driven to collapse her arms.    Sweat glistened over her body from the cast of the nights campfire.    The rush of cool night air that caresses her skin is not felt in the heat of the moment.   As she burns up with passion.    Time is lost,  how much time did they go at is not realized.    A eternity or simply a few scant moments.  It would seem the latter to Pantea.  For when one felt such extreme pleasure it always seem to short.<br/><br/>But regardless of such,  each successive stroke would bring her closer.  An then the dam is broken,   as her orgasm hits washing through her so very fast.