"And what of their parents?"
He shrugged. "Free to go their separate way, like I said. You don’t have to worry about that, Bluebell, I’m not going anywhere. This is a lot of baby talk, darlin’," he purred, the heft of his enormous member against her belly sitting a bit thicker. "It’s enough to make a manfeelthings. I can just imagine how beautiful you’ll look carrying our baby, all rosy and ripe . . ." Back and forth against her, Lurielle tilted her hips upwards so that she was able to press up against him, trapping his cock against the heat of her tingling sex. "Is this what you’re thinking of, Lurielle? Me filling you with a strong, Orcish son?"
"Again with the strong son business."
"Pumping you full is the point." The first push was always the one that made her breath trip, his foreskin pulled back to reveal the shiny pink-edged glans, spreading open her lips and opening her walls, pressing the air right out of her lungs as he fed his cock into her slowly. "I can just imagine how sweet you'll look. But gettin' there's the fun part."
She wished she could say he was wrong, but she would be a liar. She had often tried imagining what she would look like, swollen with an orc baby,hisbaby, which was the important part, the thought never failing to bring a flush to her cheeks. The weight of his balls slapping into her excited her now, the thought of him draining them inside of her thrilling, regardless of how often it had previously happened or how anatomically incorrect the notion was. Putting her ankles up over his shoulders never failed to make her see stars, and he did it then, making her wheeze.
"Once you say you're ready, darlin', this is what I’ll do to you every day. Fill you up with this big cock and pump you full of my seed until you're swollen with me. That what you want me to do? You want me to pump this pussy full until we have a whole brood?"
She had been careening towards a shallow orgasm at that point, the angle at which he bent her shortening the length he had to thrust into her, putting pressure on her g-spot and clit both, but at his words, the moment was broken.
"Tell me you did not just say that like it's supposed to be sexy," she huffed out, laughter overtaking her pleasure, laughing even harder at the way his face screwed up.
"Bluebell, what are you tryna’ do. You wanna turn this dragon into a windsock, you keep it up. This ain't the stage for your comedy routine."
She was cackling by then, squealing when he dropped against her, flattening her for a moment under his weight. "I don't ever want to hear you say the words ‘seed’ and ‘brood’ together again, unless you really are bringing me home chickens, you understand? Are you gonna want to move back home after we have kids? Because that's not something we talked about before."
"Lurielle, you think we can dill this pickle first? If seeing your mother is going to have you madder than a mule chewing bees, I understand. But this squirrel can't bury this nut alone."
She had begun to laugh again, wrapping her legs around him, using her heels to knead into the swell of his prodigious ass. "Well, you'd better start pumping. This gas tank isn't going to fill itself."
"I'm serious," she murmured once they were finished and cleaned up, back beneath the sheets. "You never said that you wanted to move back home."
"You're right about that, so I'm not sure where you got the notion."
She was quiet for a long moment, listening to this thump of his heart, flattening her cheek to his chest. "It was just something your brother said when we were down there. A few other people were talking about it, and they made it seem like it was a foregone conclusion that we'd move back when we had kids. After all, they had to be raised by the clan."
"And how do you feel about that, Lurielle? You're asking a lot of questions, but you're not giving me any answers."
She thought. "I like Cambric Creek because things like clan don't matter. There's Elvish community here, but they keep to themselves and they don't matter to the rest of the town. I don't want my kids to feel ostracized because of what they are."
"Bluebell —"
"No, don't bluebell me. I know how elves are. You know how orcs are. If had a dollar for every person that said something about how little I was, or how you probably keep me in a box under the bed with the other sex toys, or what a fluffy little novelty I was while we were visiting, we could've taken another vacation. You've met my mom now, you see what I'm talking about. She isexceptionallyawful, but don't think for a minute that every elf at the club in town wouldn't think the exact same thing." Silva had said something to her about her strange fae boyfriend, a brief anecdote he'd related to her one evening about being turned away from his Orcish clan as a child, never even meeting his father. She knew that every story had two sides and the truth was likely somewhere in the middle, but knowing what she knew of elves and how similar orcs were in their superiority complexes, she didn't doubt the veracity of it.
"Darlin', when my granddaddy died we were all there, all around his bed. One by one everyone got a chance to sit with him alone and say goodbye. I was the last one there with him, and he took my hand with the little bit of strength he had left and he told me to get out of there and go make something of myself. That he didn't want to look back on me from the other side and see me still there, in the same town with the same mine that had killed him. Didn't want to see me working in some low-paying accounting job with all my schooling. Didn't want to see me raising my kids with the same expectations. Now you can think that's putting on airs, I know a lot of the folks at home think I do, some of my own kin included. But I was fortunate enough to have a good start in life, and I didn't intend to squander it. I wouldn't bring our kids back there to grow up thinking they have to stay in the same place their whole lives just because that's the way it is."
“I’m absolutely not continuing the K name dynasty, so you can get that idea right out of your head too, while we’re at it.”
She wrapped her arm around him as he snorted in laughter, content when he'd folded her in his arms. "I'm glad one of us had a good start in life, because you can see how fucked up I am. Now I just have to get past this party without having a nervous breakdown."
Now they were there, and her breakdown felt imminent.
The ballroom was draped in pink. Pink chiffon swags, pink table linens, pink uplighting. Enormous vases of pink and white flowers graced each table, and the birthday girl herself was dolled up like a poofy pink cupcake. Lurielle loved her great-grandmother dearly, and was thrilled that they were able to celebrate her two hundred and fiftieth birthday at all, but Nana’s choice in decor was reminiscent of something a princess-obsessed preschooler might have chosen.
She watched in amusement as one of the waistcoated servers made a wide arc around the table where she sat with her boyfriend, the tray of hors d'oeuvres he carried completely unmolested by disinterested elves. Beside her, Khash grunted in frustration.
"Now you know he’s doin’ that on purpose," he grumbled, balling up his pink cloth napkin in frustration, as Lurielle snorted into her drink. After all, she had tried to warn him.
"I thought I asked you to order food while I showered?"
Khash had scowled at her in the mirror as he expertly twisted the long ends of his silk tie into a large windsor knot, earlier that evening. "Bluebell, you know we don’t have time for that, we need to get ready. You mean to tell me there’s not going to be food there? At adinnerreception?" He’d rolled his eyes at her reflection as he pulled on his suit jacket, an endless expanse of expensive grey wool, and fussed with his contrasting pocket square.
Lurielle just shrugged.Fine.If he wanted to be a know-it-all, let him find out the hard way.
She had yet to determine if all orcs ate as much as Khash did. She'd tried to pay attention when they went out together, would look for other orcs in restaurants, trying to determine if they too had ordered two entrees and an appetizer at dinner. She’d once stalked an orc around the grocery store, surreptitiously peeking into his cart to scan the contents, and had once espied Silva's slender boyfriend through the wide window of his small restaurant one weekend afternoon, sitting in front of a laptop at the end of the bar, eating an apple. Lurielle hadn't noticed a steak dinner hidden beneath his screen, as she'd pointed out to Khash later. His nonchalant rebuttal had been that the other orcs in restaurants were on dates and were clearly holding back as they attempted to woo their intendeds, and that Silva's fae boyfriend didn't count.
