If you search long enough, you can find anything on the Internet. I almost lost hope on this search though, I thought I'd have to create Everquest porn myself!
Then I found this forum, all holed up and password protected like they're distributing virtual heroine. Roleplayers pretending to be wood elves, iksars, faeries, and barbarians in a big tavern fuck fest. It doesn't quite top the Transformer roleplaying pr0n I found once... but it's up there. I personally would have done an animated .gif of a halfee sitting and standing repeatedly on top of a dead froglok, but to each his own.
Since the site is password protected, I'll just cut & paste this story. Enjoy it, fatheads!
Editor's note: This has become our most popular page, you fucking sickos. You beat Fansy's record. Do you even care about how Fansy feels? If you want something more hardcore than this bullshit below, check out Pensi's Box.
The morning in Kelethin was crisp as always. High in the treetops the temperature was much cooler than down on the forest floor. Sunshine speared it's way into the lofty wooden structures in narrow rays and sharp angles. Bird chirps and wolf cries filled the air in a gentle cacophony.
And occasionally, a mysterious song could be heard.
It took skill to hear it; you could only listen for it among the other sounds of nature if you knew precisely what you were listening for. Visitors to the vast Faydark never gave a second thought to the melodic wailing which seemed to whisper through the trees on occasion, the quiet cry never lasting much more than a minute or two, and always blending as though it were nothing more than the call of an owl, or the howl of a wolf.
But the Elves knew the sound… and when one of them listened carefully, paid very close attention, they would hear the infrequent melody. A quiet, high-pitched tune, different every time, like a long feminine sigh that varied it's pitch just enough to distinguish itself as musical. Then they would smile knowingly and go about their business.
One of the very highest structures in the city was an Inn. It had no actual name, and business there was infrequent. Many of the Wood Elves found their calling in hunting and adventure, rarely returning to town, and only visiting the lower merchants near the lifts when they did. It was small… in fact, it had only one room. These things would normally mean that it was a relatively unsuccessful establishment. Fortunately, it also had two regulars.
The owner of the Inn often left the building when they were there, knowing them to be trustworthy patrons, and also good self-sufficient business. They rarely required anything of the Innkeeper other than the room itself. As such, the only ones in the Inn this morning were those two patrons.
On a bed near a window slept one, a half-elven warrior who called herself Nectar. Her short, sandy blonde hair was clipped evenly about her head, giving a somewhat tomboyish look to her visage. Other than that, however, every bit of her was as feminine as could be. Her pale skin was as smooth as polished marble, and beneath it were slender muscles equally strong. Her quilt came to rest just above her bosom, which was full and firm, her pert breasts distinct beneath the quilt, raising and lowering it with each slow breath she drew in her sleep.
She was in peaceful slumber long after the morning began until a sunbeam managed to force it's way past the canopy, landing squarely on her eyelid. Unconsciously her brow furrowed, the strong light disrupting her blissful state, but not quite enough so to wake her.
Then came one of the cries. They were clearer at this extreme height in the city, the sound somehow drifting like rising smoke along the forest's canopy.
Even in her sleep, Nectar recognized it. The soothing wail flowed gently through the room like mist, far more subtle than the sharp presence of the sunbeam. It tickled the insides of Nectar's sleeping ears, bringing a languid smile to her lips, as she became conscious, wanting to be awake to listen to the brief song.
As the tune wafted through the chamber, she turned her head to the side, away from the intrusive light and slowly opened her eyes. As they gradually came into focus, they looked upon Nectar's most prized possession in all Norrath, and her smile grew even more.
Next to the bed was a sleeping mat, padded and covered in velvety fur. Wrapped in thick quilts and sleeping upon that mat was a beautiful wood-elf girl. She was on her side, facing towards Nectar, her lips parted in a slight "o", her breath very shallow. Her long blonde hair draped over her face like the finest veil, accentuating her delicate features, one long pointed ear protruding adorably from beneath her golden locks.
A few sunbeams struck her, one even landing on her nose, but having no effect whatsoever on her comatose state. Nectar stifled a laugh, looking at the quilt which the girl had flimsily tucked herself into, like a very fragile cocoon. Nectar began to lift away her own quilt when she felt the sting of the misty morning air. She quickly drew the covers about her again, the sudden warmth they afforded causing her almost to drift back into her own slumber. But her eyes never left the diminutive face of the wood-elf girl lying on the mat below her, and her beauty tipped the balance in favor of remaining awake.
With a deep breath, Nectar tossed aside her own blanket, bathing her own naked figure in the crisp morning air. Goosebumps immediately sprung upon every single inch of her exposed flesh. She gasped from the sharp coldness that surrounded her, her nipples quickly hardening into angry red nubs at the tips of each round breast. The sensation caused her to glance down to her bosom, and she smirked. It was the human in her, definitely… elves, while deliciously attractive, never had very large breasts. Half elves rarely did, but Nectar was a pleasant and unobtrusive exception, her chest full and alluring, just enough to be on par with some of the lovelier human dancers of Antonica.
Her body adjusted quickly to the cold, her strong warrior's frame accustomed to much harsher environments than a mere cool forest morning. Silently she swung her long legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet resting upon the floor. As she moved, she felt a familiar sensation between her thighs, her bare nether lips wet and gliding against one another as she moved her legs. Her eyes fluttered and she involuntarily flexed her firm thighs together, feeling a brief ripple of pleasure arc through her body as she did. She opened her eyes again, smiling and oblivious to the cold as she stood over the wood elf girl.
"Well…" Nectar whispered to herself, "it hardly seems fair… the Mistress shivering in the cold while her Pet sleeps blissfully in warmth…"
With that, she reached down, grasping the edge of the blanket, and carefully tugging at it, untucking it from beneath the girl sleeping beneath it. The motions didn't disturb the slumbering figure in the least as Nectar repeated the procedure on the other side of the blanket. "Always sleeps like a log," Nectar thought to herself, grinning. With a final motion, she yanked the quilt down and away from the elf, tossing it across the room.
The girl sucked in a breath as the chill air assaulted her body all at once. She too was completely naked beneath the blanket, save for a studded-leather collar fastened snugly about her neck. Her body was firm and smooth, slender legs extending from tiny hips, bent slightly at the knees. Round, smooth buttocks beneath her long suntanned back, arms curled in front of her and over her petite, firm breasts. She was a statement in youthful, elven female perfection.
Nectar stood and gazed down at the gorgeous elf girl, breathing heavily as she watched her tremble in the cold, yet remain sleeping. She then turned and walked to her travelling pack, resting against her bedpost, reaching inside and producing a small wooden rod. It was a foot in length, an inch and a half wide, and polished as smooth as obsidian all over. She turned and looked to the cold elven girl, seeming to gasp in her sleep…
Peachis opened her eyes, looking about her in confusion. She must have stumbled… her body was freezing, inches deep in the snow of the Everfrost mountain pass. It was dark, so dark, but somehow she could still see the blue-white glow of the snow surrounding her. It was falling in large clumps, light as feathers but stinging cold. She struggled to her knees, reaching to pull her bearskin cloak around her small elven body; the one thing that had protected her from the cold throughout the night.
But it was gone… the cloak wasn't there! Glancing around in a panic, she tried to find it, figuring it to have slipped off in the wind when she stumbled into the snow. But it was nowhere to be found… finding a pure-white polar-bearskin cloak in the middle of the night during a snowstorm was not a feasible task, even for an elf with 20/20 infravision.
Beneath the cloak she wore virtually nothing… only her collar and a small green suit that barely covered her chest and bottom. She wrapped her arms about her body, trying to warm herself against the chill. "Help!!" she cried out desperately, but the words were drowned to no more than a whisper in the howling wind.
She stumbled forward against the shrill black wind, gaining only a few more steps before collapsing to her knees again, squinting her eyes shut. She tried to open them, finding her eyelids heavy against the darkness and the cold.
When she succeeded she saw… somebody approaching? Tall, dark silhouettes against the blue backdrop of the nighttime mountainsides. She cried out again, and in moments they were upon her.
Arms grasped her beneath her shoulders, and she felt herself lifted, only slightly, but somehow she was on her feet again, and heard deep, concerned voices.
"You allright, miss?"
"She looks like she's dazed… get her back to the camp."
"Right… miss? You'll be safe soon, doncha worry…"
Motion, she was sure of it, but she didn't know how, around her body and somehow moving her. When she regained her senses, she was standing near a makeshift tent, being hustled inside it.
Once inside, she was surrounded almost by complete darkness. But she heard their reassuring voices, and could sense their presences. Barbarians, she was sure of it. They were huge… nearly three feet taller than herself, had hardened muscular bodies that carried her, and deep voices, as heavy and sure as stone.
"Name's Gregor, miss. This here's Joe," one faceless voice murmured.
"A pleasure, miss. Dunno what you were doin' wanderin' around naked in the peaks at night. Sure way to freeze to death."
She looked towards Joe, and whispered, "Thank you… thank you so much…"
"We may freeze anyway," muttered Gregor. "No way we can build a fire in this storm, and it's already cold as a glacier in here,"
Peachis was suddenly aware of there nearness in the tent. She closed her eyes, not trying to see anymore, but allowing her hearing, her feeling, the sense of their warm breath near her guide her.
"We won't freeze," she whispered again. "I can keep us warm."
"Miss?" came Joe's voice, slightly confused. Peachis smiled in the darkness and extended her arms. Each hand came into contact with one of each Northerner's legs. They were strong, but bare. She felt the rough hair on each calf as she rested her palms against them, then gradually stroked upwards along each leg, coming to their leather kilts, then moving up further beneath them, thinking to herself that she was about to answer a question that had dwelled in her mind for ages, and hoping that the answer was what she expected. Beneath the kilts, they wore nothing. Her hands came to rest upon the manhood of each barbarian.
"Take me…" she whispered. "I will warm you both…"
With only a few languid strokes, she felt them grow hard at her touch. She briefly wondered why Barbarians never seemed to freeze in the arctic when they nothing beneath their kilts, but the thoughts were wiped from her mind as she suddenly felt their hands upon her. Big, strong hands, grasping her bare shoulders, their huge palms and fingers nearly covering her entire upper arms. She felt herself laid on her side.
A bearded face kissed her lips. She opened her mouth eagerly, feeling his strong tongue invading and dancing with her own delicate tongue. The hands on her shoulders glided down her body, the fingers catching beneath her green body suit and ripping it away from her. Two more hands immediately found and covered her tiny breasts, her already hardened nipples poking into their palms. They started moving in circles, rubbing and kneading her breasts, growing warm to the touch.
A warm hand slid down her leg and then back up along her inner thigh, strong fingers simultaneously rough and gentle on her skin. She gasped, parting her legs just slightly, as they moved along her tender flesh, finally coming to rest on her swollen, tender nether lips.
"Oh yes…" she sighed, feeling the strong touch, her wetness coating his fingers as they stroked firmly up and down her slit. The hands on her chest moved downward as well, gliding along the outside of her legs. The touches were hot as fire; wherever there were hands upon her, she felt warm, so very warm. Everywhere else was chilled, cold as ice. Yet this only stoked the passion inside her, making her crave their touch more.
She wanted to feel their bodies around her, she wanted to be encompassed by their heat.
"Touch me… more… please…" she gasped. Yet their hands were almost teasing… firm and strong on her body, yet she did not feel their bodies against her. The hands on her legs gently moved around to the front and slid between them, lifting her knee gently as the fingers stroking her lips glided backwards, moving along her bottom. She sensed the Barbarian in front of her (Gregor, was it? She couldn't quite remember…) drawing near.
Suddenly, she felt it pressing against her lips. His hardened cock. He lifted her leg just slightly more, and suddenly, with a single thrust, entered her.
"AH!" she cried out. He was so huge, his cock filling her delicate elven body completely. He was as hard as wood, and glided easily within her moistness. Tremors of pleasure rippled through her body.
At the same time, she finally felt the warm, nude body of the second Barbarian pressed up behind her. Joe's body nestled against her own, his warm chest finally covering her back, chasing away the chilling air. His thighs rested just beneath hers, warming her even more. His arm draped over her hip, holding her steady while Gregor rhythmically slid in and out of her, his thick cock stretching her nether lips tight around it. "Yes… Yes…" she grunted with each of his thrusts. Behind her, she felt Joe's finger slide further back along her bottom, gently spreading her wetness along her tender flesh, pressing gently between her buttocks, into her tender hole.
"OH…. OH TUNARE!!!" she cried out as she felt Joe slide his finger gently inside her forbidden region. She felt so very filled by the both of them, and they moved in time now, in and out, in and out. Gregor's cock from in front, Joe's finger from behind. It felt so perfect, her body was awash with sensations, the nipping cold still stinging her skin wherever and whenever it was uncovered, the fiery warmth of the two strong Barbarians around her, the wonderful sensations coming from her filled wetness and her behind. Her body shifted with each stroke, moving in time with each of their thrusts, over and over, the pleasure inside her building, and building…
Nectar moved her finger and the wooden rod in a perfect rhythm, her strong, muscled body cradled tightly behind Peachis on the fur-lined sleeping mat, their skin warm as fire wherever they touched and cool as stone wherever the air touched it. Peachis small elven body shook with pleasure as Nectar made love to her, one of Nectar's hands between their bodies, gently probing and thrusting into Peachis behind, while her other arm reached around and stroked the thick, polished wooden rod easily in and out of Peachis' wet womanhood.
They laid upon the floor for over an hour, Peachis still dreaming as Nectar stroked, caressed, and penetrated Peachis' beautiful, diminutive body. Finally, as the pressure built within her, Peachis opened her eyes, gazing up into Nectar's caring gaze. "Oh, Nectar…" she cooed as the half-elf woman's face swam into view through her dream, and with one final thrust of the rod, the love she felt mixed with the pleasure, and Peachis' body exploded with delight.
Her voice rang out, musical, soft and ecstatic. It drifted along the canopy of the Faydark like rising smoke. It was musical, natural, blending with the calls of the owls and the howls of the wolves. A quiet, high pitched tune, like a long feminine sigh that varied it's pitch just enough to distinguish itself as musical.
An elf on the forest floor walking to Felwithe cocked his head to the side for a moment, smiled knowingly, and went about his business.
It was midnight in the Everfrost Peaks. The worst of the snowstorm was over, and Gregor and Joe were sleeping uncomfortably in their tents at opposite ends of the Everfrost region, both in their full armor in a futile attempt to better ward the cold away. Both opened their eyes a crack as an out-of-place cry echoed through the peaks around them, very distant, very faint, very feminine. The wakefulness was fleeting, and moments later they were once again asleep, soundly and each remained in a contented, warm slumber for the rest of the night.