Enchantress of the Hallsbroeck

Graf Friedrich Von Salm was looked a little subdued and still glassy-eyed in spite of all of the congratulations going on around him over having bagged the biggest stag, as proved by the photo on his cell phone and the number of points on the stunned stag's antlers.

He took on a stunned look himself when his eyes rose to meet Erika's as she approached the table.

"Egerie?" he muttered. He'd recognize those bronze-flecked green eyes anywhere. And that glossy black hair, and those two perky . . .

Erika just smiled at him, dispensed the steins of beer around to his comrades, and then sat in his lap. Her lips went to his ear, "You were promised a sign, were you not? You can recognize it, can't you?"

His trembling reflected that he indeed recognized the sign—a woman who was the spitting image of the family Knospe—the wood nymph, Egerie. Those distinctive eyes could not lie. Nor the glossy black hair, nor the two perky . . .

He just sat there, humming quietly, nodding and smiling when Lutz or Bodo or one of the other club members addressed him, trying to keep his hands from going to those perky tits. But all of his senses going to the small hands working in his lap under Erika's buttocks as, adroitly, without drawing attention to herself, she managed to bunch up her skirt, open his codpiece, crown his cock with a condom, and settle on the cock.

What an enchantress, he thought, his eyes dreamy, his breath coming in little gasps, as she moved ever so slightly, languidly in his lap, side to side and forward and back. He groaned, his knees feeling like rubber, his hands grasping her waist tightly, wanting to grasp her tits instead.

When Sigrid appeared to clear the empty steins and provide another round—now, irritatingly, being left to cover the service all by herself—her mouth turned down into an ugly scowl as she viewed Erika in Friedrich's lap, Erika gently swaying, and both Erika and Friedrich with beatific smiles on their face. Sigrid looked up and down the table, thinking what a bunch of donkeys these young men were. Was she the only one not the least bit fooled by what the two of them were doing in the midst of all the beer hall partying? It was like all of these jackasses were under a spell.

As she turned and walked back toward the bar, she snorted, "Both medievalists and environments. Yeah right. The enchantment of the Hallsbroeck Forest. Get real. Just randy boys who would fuck anything that moved." But the noise level in the hall was too loud for anyone to hear her—or, probably, to care even if they could.

Lutz and Bodo had both risen from the table and were following Sigrid toward the bar—and the back of the hall. It wouldn't be long before all thoughts of the enchantment of the Hallsbroeck Forest would have evaporated from whatever Sigrid was thinking as well.