"Fuck me, Taa!" she moans.

Taa eased Fang off from his body, still watching as a dribble of his white seed trickled down her gloriously green chin. When she was far enough back to stand, the goat-legged satyr rose from his comfortable sprawl on the pillows, his 8-inches wagging in front of the half-orcs face, and got up to his hooves.

"Here," he said to her softly, not quite in a whisper, and reached down with a human-shaped hand to help her up onto her feet as well, "I would like to see you naked. You have a beautiful body."

He had never seen a green-skin blush before. The blood rose to Fang's cheeks, and they turned a darker shade, but she did what the Whisperer of Grum'tak asked of her.

Regarding the satyr closely, her eyes torn between the reaction on his face and drifting back down to that monsterous cock which erupted up from the blend of animal fur around his legs and up to his waist, Fang began to strip. She had already taken her boots off after he had begun to whisper those lovely, sensible and sensuous promises to her and so the half-orc adventurer began by wriggling out of her tight breaches. She opened her waistband up and peeled the trews down her legs.

The half-orc's thong came off next. Fang's underwear wasn't fancy, wasn't sexual, it was little more than a strip of cloth to keep her comfortable in her travels, and it pooled in an unremarkable bundle around her ankles.

"Fuck me, Taa!" she could hear her the lust in her voice. She had never taken a cock quite as massive as his and never any man with quite so much fur but her heart was beating so quickly in her chest and her pussy so wet. She could barely stand it.

The Whisperer trotted forward, standing hoof-to-toe with the sexy young half-orc, his cock a solid rod of flesh that throbbed where his body pressed against hers. He didn't kiss her. He didn't say another word. Taa turned Fang around, facing her away from him again and bent her forward over the table he had pushed into the corner of his temple office.

Fang's ass was everything the young satyr had imaged it to be. Pert, firm and athletic. The half-orc leaned forward obediently for him, pressing her chest as flat to the table as her breasts would allow and raising her hips to push her backside up into the air.

Taa stepped forward again, placing his goat-hooves between Fang's legs and one hand firmly on the small of her back. In this position there was very little she could do to stop him fucking her until he was thoroughly exhausted.

The satyr guided his cock downwards and to Fang's now dripping slit and pushed himself in with a single stroke. His furry legs bashed against her tight green skin. His thighs slapped against her backside.

"Aaah!" Fang exclaimed in surprise and delight. She could feel his girth inside her body. He was huge, but she was so wet now Taa's mighty penis slid easily inside of her.

The Whisperer bucks his hips, pulling his cock backwards and nearly out of the tender young half-orc body bent forward in supplication in front of him and then dove forward again. And again,

Fang felt her body rock forward with each thrust, the table wobbling beneath her, her breasts cushions against each impact from the horny satyr-priest taking her from behind.

The half-orc's climax gripped Taa's cock, muscles tightening around his 8-inches of fuckmeat, but he was a satyr and Grum'tak and built him for this role. The Whisperer wasn't even close to being sated.

"Hnnnng! Fuuuuck!" Fang shouted into the office, squirming below the pounding satyr, her body caught in the throes of delight. Sweat beaded on her forehead and he gasped for air. The half-orc spread her arms out over the table, trying to brace herself more firmly against the incoming piston thrusts of ann 8-inch animal-man dick that filled her with each stroke.

"Taaaa!" she moaned again, a haze settling in her thoughts as a second, or was it a third, orgasm wracked through her body again. She could hear the wet squelching and slapping noise her body was now making each time the young priest pounded into her. The table rocked beneath her. It had moved while she was fucked, shifting forward from where it had been lazyily pushed up to the wall to now firmly being pressed up against the wall, knocking chips out of the paintwork each time her body lurched forward in response to each cock-thrust.

Was this priest ever going to tire of her? Would she pass out only to wake and find herself bent over this table with the best cock she had ever felt still fucking her from behind? Fang wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not. Fang wasn't even sure she could think clearly or not...