A Dance Of Freedom

As Asher and Lysandra became one, time seemed to fold into itself; minutes blended into seconds, hours into moments.

Trapped in the fiery embrace of desire and intimacy, they were a tempestuous amalgam of emotions and sensations, their united bodies forming a symbol of pure passion.

In the throes of this very passion, large, powerful, wyvern-like, leathery, ashen wings sprouted from Asher's back, mirroring Lysandra's own magnificent dark silver set. 

Gripping her wings tightly, he continued to drive into her as they ascended into the air, his fervent thrusts matching the rhythm of his beating wings. 

Their lascivious dance set the cavern aglow as the motion of their intertwining bodies lifted them off the moss-laden ground while thick, hot semen continued to drip off her feet.

"Ahhn!~ Haaann!~ Heeun!~..."

"Nngh! Ungh!..."

The air was filled with husky panting, seductive growls, and carnal echoes reverberating off the damp walls.