“Clem,” he growls, “you don’t know what you’re getting into. It’s shock making you act this way.”
I shake my head. “No. No, this is not shock. This is… what you do to me, and I—I don’t want to stop.”
He pulls back, his gaze searching my face.
“Whatdoyou want?” he asks huskily.
“I want you to make love to me,” I gulp out.
His eyes widen and he lets out a husky groan. There’s answering longing in his features. And yet, damn the big green guy’s self-control, he still holds back.
In a flash, I sit up and roughly tug the t-shirt over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, that was one thing Tippy omitted to bring, and my tits sit up, my nipples hard like they’re begging to be touched, straining toward him.
He crouches back now, kneeling in front of me on the mattress, almost in supplication. His eyes roam over my tits, turning a deep burgundy.
I take his bunched hand and, unlocking his tight fingers, splay them around one breast. I let out a ragged little cry as his thumb pad flicks over my hard nipple, knowing exactly what to do. Then he bows his head and sucks that hungry nipple into his mouth.
The sensation goes straight to my clit. Honestly, I could almost come just with him stroking my tits.
I let out another ragged cry, arching into him as his other hand kneads my right breast. His tongue flicks from one nipple to the next, and my pussy spasms wildly. I pull him down on top of me and when he’s finished with my breasts and I’m writhing and panting, he moves down lower, until that big green head is right at the apex of my thighs.
His breath is hot against my folds.
I’m fucking desperate. I lift my hips and push up into his mouth.
With an expletive in orcish, and one swift move, he’s pulling down my panties, and then he rips them off with a tusk and drops them to the floor. The skirt rides around my waist and he literally rips that off too with his tusks.
It’s an unbelievable turn-on.
“Now yours, please,” I beg.
He moves back, shucks off his shirt and pants.
I stare, my mouth slack.
Naked Otis is a god. His skin is like green velvet encasing his rippling muscles. His cock is bigger than any human’s, the head a deeper shade of green. The slit oozes silver pre-cum and it smells delicious, musky, sweet, and masculine.
My eyes sink lower. At the base of his cock there’s a massive swelling, just above his balls, two perfect ovals. The base of his penis is double the size of the glorious glistening head. It sure would massage all the right places.
Nothing human here. Hallelujah!
With little mewls of pleasure, I pull him down to me and we embrace. I ride his huge thigh, rubbing my clit on the thick, roped quads, feeling that huge cock bobbing against my belly. I reach down as we kiss, and my hand circles his girth. I shuck up and down it to the same rhythm as our kiss.
His tongue is wide, adept at forking into my mouth. His tusks ride either side of my face, smooth, their tips ruffling my hair.
When we come up for air, I beg, “Oh gods, Otis! Yes, more like that.” I am about to explode just from our exploring hands and our kisses when he breaks away, crouches back, and buries that big green head between my legs. His tusks rest against my inner thighs, pinning me open, and his fingers do the same, gently parting my labia.
With a husky expletive, he blows on my clit.
I almost come, every internal muscle convulsing. My head flings back, my eyes rolling back in my head and stars bursting behind my eyelids.
Then his tongue laps along my seam, into my entrance, swirls a deep path right to my G-spot and somehow manages to dive deep inside me, his tusks curving back and around my butt cheeks as he presses his greedy mouth deeper into my cunt.
His hot hands knead my breasts and pinch my nipples with just the right amount of pleasure/pain.
I’m going to explode, implode, whatever the word is for the best orgasm of your entire life.
I, Clem Summers, am literally done for.
