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Had it been any of those things, she may have felt less guilt, for each were weaknesses which afflicted her subhuman race. No, their corporeal communion was as basic and primitive as a bear snapping a buck's neck. They fucked out of necessity, because they were both young, and neither was particularly unattractive, and both had gone far longer than anyone their age might normally go without touching someone else.

That was the whole truth of the matter.

When he was done with her, he spent himself inside of her. With his powerful embrace, he held her still and growled as he emptied himself deep within her trembling, warm, clenching loins. It must have been particularly intense, because he did this for a long time, and when he was done he lay against her barely awake. She waited beneath him, breathing hard and coming down from her post-orgasm high. She waited until the wind blew so much that her cheeks hurt, and she waited until she felt his seed dribbling down her ass to the ground, and she waited until it was hard to take deep breaths with him pressed atop her.

"I want to sleep now," she said, quietly.

The mercenary opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. Dull eyes. No life there, no poetry in the network of synapses that formed his basic mind. Only instinct. He put his face in her neck again and started with small, nibbling bites, and she could do nothing but squeal in a tiny voice, childlike and restrained.

Then she felt his cock stiffen again, inside her. It was a peculiar, shockingly intimate moment that she would never forget. Terribly aroused, she bit her lip and stared in his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers once more, and she wrapped her legs around him, and they continued where they left off. He was clutching her so tight in his arms that she felt his taught biceps against her sides, and she could feel his abs against her soft stomach, and his thick fingers dug into her back. Completely at his mercy, she climaxed very quickly under his barrage of angry thrusts. The area was loud with her angry-sounding grunts, and the sound of their flesh colliding again and again.

He tore this orgasm from her, made her suffer through it with eyes rolling back and toes curling and ankles crossing tight against his back and fists balling up and her pussy clenching down on him hard, as if to stop him. This time they came together, and as he pumped her full of his seed she saw more colors, more strange imagery, more conjured visions of her dear creator.

In the end, he rolled off of her, his energy completely sapped. She wasn't half done, and she had the strongest urge to mount him and finish the job, pressing her lips to his and sucking away his life force until he was an empty corpse resting forever among the leaves. She could have used him up entirely, a vampire of souls rather than blood, and she could have taken the horse and rode back into town and sought out a man who might entice her desires much less.

But she didn't.

She covered herself up again, and she rose and found her panties and after much hesitation pulled them back on, like a man in a desert who knows he must close up his canteen despite wanting desperately to drink up all his water right there. She found his bedding in that sea of leaves, and she took the cloths and shook them clean, and then she covered him up and slept beside him until morning.

When she woke, he was already up. He stood over her, rolling up his bedding, adorned in his dyed armor and with his sword about his waist and his heroic cloak draped over his shoulders. He looked down at her, showing no proof in his face that he remembered anything of the night before.

"When you're ready," he said, and then he went to the horse where it lay and got it up, and he took it through the trees to a nearby pool of water where he let it drink.

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