His fingers continued to tease and manipulate her receptive body, igniting salacious charged sensations to run unbridled between her legs. His actions...were timed with precision, lifting her to different plateaus of erotic frenzy, each more intense and wanton. Her body always eager to becoming totally receptive to whatever licentious manipulations he desired. Then just as suddenly as it all started, he stopped. Cold air replaced the warm wetness of his hand on her enflamed vagina, as she was. Vennoa glanced at the front of the caravan, to see who was driving it. No one. Curious. This was a magical caravan of some sort.“Do you know when we’ll get there?” Vennoa asked.“The convention? Probably just after sunset,” the Barkas replied.The Adventurers’ Convention! Vennoa cursed under her breath. That strange man must be responsible somehow. He had been going on and on about the convention when they met that first night. Knowing that there was little more she could do, Vennoa kept her head. More

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