They never do make it to the bedroom

Hilda screams in ecstasy as her man repeatedly plunders her pussy.

She wraps her arms and legs around his body, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Her eyes are half-closed and her sopping wet cunny is trying desperately to milk his manhood for all it's worth.

Guttural grunts, whorish moans, and the unmistakable, sloppy, wet, slapping sounds of lusty, animalistic, utterly unhindered fucking echo through the halls of stately Brandt Keep.

But they aren't just from Hunk and Hilda.

The orgy that originated in the bathroom is spreading to every person in every room of the old building as all of the remaining sexual tension finally boils over and the remaining workers, peasants, guards, and various other hangers-on cast their inhibitions to the wind and give in to their most basic needs and desires.

It's as if a madness, albeit a sexy madness, has overtaken them all, and the only cure can be found in each others... *ahem* ...arms.

Frankly, it's a miracle the keep is still standing by the time dawn finally breaks over the exhausted, sweaty, sleeping residents of Hilda's ancestral home.