He asked more about her career, holding his heart and pretending to swoon when she admitted she was an engineer. Lurielle didn’t often talk about work; people made awkward assumptions about women in STEM positions, and she’d demurred about exactly what it was she did the previous evening, only mentioning that she was here with three work friends. Khash only opined that she had beautyandbrains, and that they clearly had power couple potential. She choked on her wine at his words, relieved that he was placing their dessert order at the time.Just a piece of meat, just a piece of meat…
When the decadent looking berries and molten cake were delivered to the table, he insisted she take the first bite, cutting into the gooey cake to let the thick, syrupy center flow out. “This is sinful,” she sighed, letting the chocolate melt on her tongue. “A+ ordering skills, sir.”
“It’s not the only sinful thing...”
His thick, drawling voice made her shiver as his big head lowered to hers. His tongue seemed to move in slow motion as he licked the corner of her mouth, catching a trace of chocolate there before capturing her lower lip between his teeth, sucking slowly. “Mmm...this might be my new favorite way to eat chocolate.”
They had been feeding each other bits of the rich cake, with Khash’s forkfuls deliberately bumping her lips, giving him a reason to lean down to lick and nibble the chocolate from her mouth, when Lurielle realized she’d be leaving the next day, back to her humdrum life, away from this, away from him and the way he made her feel. Khash took the forkful she held out to him slowly, savoring it with an exaggerated sigh and she giggled again.Handsome, successful, and funny,she thought, not for the first time. If he were an elf and she actually spoke to her family about such things, her mother would already be planning the wedding.
“And what do your ancestors think about dessert?” He’d placed his big hand at the back of her chair some time ago, and she shivered at the whisper-soft touch of his fingers at the back of her neck.
“Oh, it is a cacophony in here, darlin’. They areecstatic. ‘He got the porterhouse, the chocolate cake,andthe pretty girl?!’ The horn of Grunush is being blown in our honor, Bluebell.”
She didn’t know what the horn of Grunush was, but as he leaned down to kiss her again, forgetting that it hadn’t been her bite, Lurielle was certain she could it hear as well, rattling through the dark restaurant, as loud as her heartbeat.
♥♥♥
The air had already been thick with smoke when she’d finally made it down to the field where the bonfire party was taking place. Ris was surprised by the open landscape, having envisioned the bacchanal taking place somewhere more secluded, like the Ostara festival she’d attended a few years earlier. Held in a clearing in the Applethorpe Wood, she’d not expectedthatobservance to end in an orgiastic revel, but had enthusiastically joined in the celebration, despite barely knowing anything about human witchcraft at the time, finding herself being taken by a satyr she thought she’d recognized from the grocery store.
The field housing the orcs’ bonfire party, by contrast, was open on all sides, overlooking the scenic valley and ringed in pedestrian footpaths.They don’t care about privacy, obviously. Although it’s not like anyone here has much to hide…She could see the outline of bodies against the indigo skyline already pressed together in compromising positions, her eyes following the movement of one orc’s thrusting hips as she neared the fire.They don’t waste time, either.
In all the times she and her friends had giggled over visiting the commune and her private suppositions over what the experience might be like, her imagination had never accounted for the presence of other women crowding the scene, there for the same thing.
Instead, she’d imagined a bevy of sexy, handsome orcs, all lining up to lavish her with attention. She’d pictured one kissing her feet, another moving his hands over her small breasts, while a third knelt between her open legs, pleasuring her with his tongue, the others patiently waiting their turn...she could see immediately that those daydreams were rooted in pure fantasy. The number of other sightseers scattered through the grass had not been accounted for in her imagination, nor had the greed of the men involved in the situation.
She watched a tall, muscular form striding up to a circle of his fellows, his erection bouncing with every step, stroking himself as he waited for the circle to open to receive him. As Ris moved closer, she saw what it was he waited for: two goblins knelt in the grass, their full breasts heaving as they gasped for air, taking turns as they orally serviced the orcs around them. As one orc finished, another took his place, a never-ending circle for the girls, and Ris shuddered. She was hardly naive and knew species mattered little when lust clouded judgment, and she certainly couldn’t judge the goblins: her raison d’etre for the weekend was to be the filling in an orc sandwich after all. Still, the gap between her imagination and reality was startling.Time to get your head in the game if you want to go home bow-legged.
There was no sign of her handsome poet from that morning, regrettably, but as she scanned the crowd, she spotted the orc from the previous evening, who’d invited her to the bonfire. He’d chuckled when she had appeared before him in the resort's lawn, asking where she was running off to at such a late hour. She wanted to meet someone who respected her, who held her interest and excited more than just her body...but she knew how to handle men who were only looking for one thing. The orc had grunted in pleased surprise when she’d trailed the tip of her long nail down the dark trail of hair at his navel. Up and down, up and down, she made several passes over his skin before his cock had responded, and she’d dropped to her knees, the shadow of their balcony providing scant cover as she knelt in the grass.
Now he stood on the opposite side of the massive fire pit, watching a curvaceous hulder being taken by an orc with stone-colored skin. There was a cluster of other sightseers, Ris saw as she approached: hanging back, working up the nerve to take the plunge. She wondered if they too were finding the reality of the situation a far cry from their fantasies, but decided that wastheirissue to grapple with.Shewas going home with a story to tell. She wasn’t sure if the orc even recognized her as she placed herself in his line of vision, but he’d reached out to take her outstretched hand all the same.Just a piece of meat.Lurielle’s question from that morning floated back to her as she found herself impaled on his giant cock a very short time later—she’d never learned his name, and if he’d told her, she didn’t remember.What does it matter?His chest was broad, his skin a deep forest green, and his cock was thick enough that she’d felt the burn of his entry, despite her arousal.What more do I need to know?
♥♥♥
She tasted like the amber-colored alcohol she drank: a sharp edge with hints of vanilla. Elshona was her name, and her hands seemed to be everywhere, as they reclined on one of the sofas in the little back room. Silva learned she was a chef, had lived in the village for several years, and that she was divorced, which wasdeeplyfrowned upon in Orcish culture, evidently.
“We were friends growing up,” she’d shrugged, swallowing another mouthful of the dark amber drink. “He did all of my tattoos, has himself a little shop in the town we’re from. It was just…a bad decision. On both our parts. But that’s why I’m here, so. When you’re an outcast, you find other outcasts.”
Silva didn’t stop her when Elshona leaned down to kiss her, enjoying the slight scrape of tusks and the feeling of hugely muscled arms when she’d pulled the much smaller elf to her lap.
“Soft as satin,” the orc whispered against her skin, lips trailing down her lavender neck and over the tops of her breasts. She was so distracted by the pressure of Elshona’s tongue ring moving against the inside of her mouth that she scarcely felt the hand that slipped beneath the hem of her dress, not until fingers lightly caressed the front of her dampened panties, making her jump.
“Are you sensitive there, little lamby?” Fingertips stroked against the pink lace again, and again and again, until Silva gasped against her lips, wantingmore. “Mmm, I think you’reverysensitive there.”
She made no resistance when the kiss deepened, hungry and demanding, nor when a finger slipped beneath the edge of the lace, gliding through her folds to rest at that little bundle of nerves that made her squirm against the bigger woman’s hand. She arched into the delicious pressure of that wide fingertip against her clit, and when it began to circle lightly, Silva whimpered against Elshona’s mouth.
“You even make noises like a little lamb. Already so wet...I can make this little kitty of yours purr...would you like that?”
Silva bleated in pleasure and need, the room spinning as long fingers continued stroking her, dipping into her until Elshona asked if her friends out in the bar were going to come looking for her. “I-I’m here alone,” she gasped, pressing herself against the caressing digits, seeking more contact. “I was waiting...Tate...I was waiting for a guy I met yesterday…”
Almost instantly, the finger that had been rubbing pleasurably at her clit pulled back, as well as Elshona’s kiss. “Tate? You’re not with those girls at the bar? You’reTate’s?”
Elshona leaned back even further, looking Silva over as though there might have been a lighted placard around her neck, one that she’d missed in her hurry to get into the adorable elf’s delicate underthings. The orc’s eyes narrowed in consternation as she retrieved her phone from the back pocket of her skin-tight shorts.
“Oi...you headin’ to the Pixie? I have a little lamb here, says she belongs to you, pretty little elf…’m I allowed to play with her?”
Silva twisted in frustration, desperately hoping the answer wasyesas she squirmed against the orc woman’s lap. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about being labeled as someone’s property; she should have been wildly offended, she was sure. Instead, it sent a tremor of excitement up her back when she belatedly realized whom Elshona had called. Tate was on the phone,herTate, possibly on his way there right that moment! She bit her lip, wondering what he would think, if he’d be disgusted. She had a feeling the situation would make that sharp smile gleam, but she wasn’t positive…
Silva watched Elshona’s eyes narrow before widening comically, looking Silva over with a scrunched brow. “Yes, pretty little elf, like I said. I mean, yes,obviouslythat’s what I mean...yes! With her! Have you gone daft? Why do I need to keep repeating myself? Why are you laughing?!”
