"Gently now. We must make her ready for the archer. He will surely want to take her." I gathered enough to understand that for the archer, whoever that was, to "take me," was a good thing; the nymphs smiled with pride and satisfaction, not satiation, though. They kept sneaking fingers inside me and over my clit, and rolling my nipples when they thought the satyr was not looking. I could see that he was, however, and that he was stroking the length of his huge, throbbing dick, that club-like, hairy cock that I suddenly wanted again, in my mouth, deep in my cunt, up my ass, anywhere he might care to put it. I reached out with one hand, and with the merest movement of my fingers, beckoned him to me. I was just about to lick a shining pearl of semen from the tip of his penis, when hunting horns pealed in the distance. I could almost see what he was thinking; can I let her suck me, just for a little while? I took the length of him in my hands, and swirled my tongue around, like I was eating an ice cream cone. His deep, rumbling groan vibrated to my toes. The hunting horns sounded again, much closer, and he pulled away from me. He pulled on my nipple chain, so that I had to rise to my feet, and after one last suckling for each, and one last fingering, he turned me around, with my back to him, And though I could feel his cock throbbing against my ass, and though I arched back toward him in blatant invitation, he pushed me away, albeit squeezing my ass cheeks at the same time. .....