<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/06/Mongol.jpg)</div>Xanaov Itugen was starting to get a bit disheveled.  Indeed, he was more than a little sweaty, and the bangs he’d so carefully arranged before coming to the festivities were now clinging to his forehead at odd angles.<br/><br/>Reflecting on this, the young man smiled and pondered that—when he was finished here—he should adjourn to his chambers briefly for a shower and some attention from one of his maids…<br/><br/>He puffed out a few times, then breathed steadily.  This was to keep control of his hips, for they were gyrating in a curiously steady motion.  His expensive black leather pants were down ankles, and his manhood glided languidly in and out of the channel of a girl bent over in front of him.  Thanks to cunning makeup, the shapely girl’s skin looked to be made of the same gold as her collar, but the pendulum motion of her full, round breasts—like the heat coming off of her wherever he touched, proved that she was very much flesh and blood.<br/><br/>As with any woman, flesh was weak, Xanatov noted, and smiled smugly.  The girl’s silent defiance was wearing slowly away.  He’d known she would surrender to him eventually ever since he’d first begun enjoying her with expert fondles that forced her nipples to stiffen and her petals to moisten ‘til her channel was enjoyably damp.  That same channel was sopping now, to the point were her arousal slid trickled down her inner thighs.  Her tears had washed down her cheeks earlier, but his patient attentions got her past that point.  Better still, she was starting to move her hips in time to his thrusts.<br/><br/>Oh, yes, this conquest was sweet.<br/><br/>Xanatov closed his eyes and gasped again, letting his thrusts get harder.  This was his third conquest of the evening—he’d interspersed them with the niceties of social politics on the dance floor, smoozing with business partners and dancing with friends and the sister’s of other friends.  When he was younger, Xanatov would have rarely left the orgastic delights of the outer walls of such an event.  By twenty five, the young lord had grown displeased with the drugs he used to keep himself potent, virile and uninhibited.  These days he preferred to do without such aids.  He found that five conquests with a clear head were fare sweeter than fifteen wild races to empty his seed into a shrieking slave girl.<br/>