Presently, he found himself standing beside the anabiotic countess' huge four poster bed, whilst one of her chambermaids raised her mistress' depleted form up into a sitting position, the crone fluffing her pillows and clucking away moistly like an old turkey broiler.

"Leave us," commanded the countess weakly.

"But, My Lady," cried the old woman scandalised, "you! alone with this strange knight, in your private chamber!"

Vulkan resisted the urge to throw the interfering old cow out of the window.

"This strange knight saved my life," replied the countess and then with more authority, "wait outside the door and see that we are not disturbed."

As soon as the door latch fell behind the maid, the countess threw off the counterpane and hauled up her nightdress to expose her sex to him. Vulkan sat down on the edge of the bed and allowed her to unfasten his breeches whilst he dipped his fingers into her steaming hot vulva. Despite her obvious exhaustion, the countess arched her back in a violent spasm as soon as she felt his touch.

"I need you inside me now my prince," she hissed desperately as he forced his fingers up into her tract, feeling the incredibly hot and febrile tissues suck and grip at his digits as he slowly manipulated her, "I want to feel you everywhere, my cunt, my arse, please lover, pump me full of your gorgeous spunk," she purred lasciviously.

"Patience bitch," counselled the satyr, pushing her back into the pillows as she reached for him, "the time is not right, old Max is likely to call in after the meeting finishes and you're also forgetting the hag listening outside the door."

"Oh fuck him! fuck them all!" the countess whined, her tongue sliding wetly around her swollen lips, "I need you."