"I’m going to fill this pretty little pussy up, Lurielle, is that what you want?"
Her back arched when he sunk into her, the tight press of his thick cock making her toes curl like every single time was the first, seating himself to the hilt in one slow glide.
Aside from the significant size difference, orcish anatomy was identical to Elvish, not the only similarity the two species shared, she’d determined. Stubborn and prideful, insular, and under the impression that their species was best among all others. Khash had much to say about orcs being physically superior to similarly-sized ogres and minotaurs, lauded orcish clan unity, and the way they unfailingly took care of their own. Lurielle didn’t have much of an opinion when conversations about her mixed-species neighborhood arose and admonished Khash every time he engaged in what she called "dick waggling competitions'' with her minotaur neighbor. Privately, she couldn’t help heaping praise on her foremothers for having the sense to have lain with orcs and ogres centuries ago, ensuring that she was able to take her boyfriend’s giant cock with ease.They fucked for the betterment of Elvish kind, and for that we thank them.
Every slow, deep thrust made her vision go spotty, his shaft dragging back and forth against that spongy spot within her, againsteveryspot within her, as three thick fingers made lazy, slow circles against her clit, his deep groans vibrating up her core. She imagined that the base of her spine possessed an indentation in the shape of his cockhead, for on every backslide he withdrew to the tip, pushing in until the heft of his balls kissed the curve of her ass, emitting another groan every time he did so. There were perks to mudball, she was forced to admit. He was always horny afterward, and if having to clean up the laundry room was the payment forthis, Lurielle would happily see her towels a muddy mess every week.
When he hitched her legs over his elbows and angled his hips in such a way that his pubic bone rocked into her clit in a constant motion, the aid of his fingers against it no longer required, Lurielle knew she was done for. She never lasted long in this position, a fact he knew well, and his eagerness for her to come only telegraphed his own need.You’re perfect the way you are. He loves you exactly the way you are. You’re smart and successful and you have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to fuck you into next week.
"Are you ready to come for me, Bluebell? I’m ready for you to squeeze this cock. This dragon is ready for a hug."
His low voice was enough to complete the affirmation and her composure broke, her muscles clenching around him convulsively as the room spun and she shook, pulsing pleasure thudding through her until her heartbeat matched the cadence, the orgasm deep enough that the clench of her muscles was nearly a cramp. Khash slowed long enough to enjoy the squeeze, pumping shallowly through her peak until she lay weakly beneath him.
"Mmmm, that’s my good girl. We might gettwocandy apples." Lurielle laughed in outrage as he began to rut in earnest, chasing his own release with shallow, piston-like pumps. "I’m going to fill you up, darlin’."
She had no doubt that he was. His balls slapped her skin on every thrust, and his eyes had fluttered shut in concentration. She almost felt guilty when his brow furrowed as she pushed against his chest, slowing him.
"No. Roll over. You’re not finishing like this."
He wanted to complain. She could see the shape of it in his warm brown eyes, narrowed in confusion, a protest sitting unspoken in his mouth, but he allowed her to push him off of her, propping himself up on his elbows when she forced him to his back, face screwing up when she slid off the bed.
"Darlin’, I’m going to sue for broken promises. You got this squirrel ready to bury his nut, and now you want to have a fashion show? I’ll see that cute little tush in court, you keep this up."
She stumbled as she crossed the room, her shoulders shaking in laughter over his utter ridiculousness. "I’m not breaking any promises! This is exactly what you asked for."
He hooted when she turned from the dresser with the harness and squat dildo in hand, dropping back against the mattress and bending his knees until his feet were flat.
"Bluebell, I thought you wanted to go to the fair."
Lurielle wrinkled her nose, tightening the straps around her thighs.
"What does that mean?! Are you going to need to take a nap or something? I thought that big ol’ biscuit wasn’t going to butter itself?"
The harness had been purchased online, saving her from the mortification of needing to return it to a physical store if it didn’t fit. The first one she’d purchased had fit like a belt, swinging haphazardly around her waist and offering no control, leading her first down a rabbit hole of research into different models and accessories, and then to further research on choosing and installing a VPN that would protect the sanctity of her late-night web browsing. Her research paid off with the second model: a snug but not uncomfortable fit around her thighs and straps that curved around her ample cheeks, that she could tighten to increase her control, if necessary.
She thought she’d feel ridiculous the first time she’d tried the harness on, standing in her dimly lit bedroom after work with the shades tightly drawn, lest her minotaur neighbor glance in the direction of her bedroom window while he did lawn work. She thought she’d feel ridiculous — that she’d focus on the unflattering way the straps highlighted the jiggle of her ass or cut across her thick thighs, that she’d feel foolish and embarrassed and humiliated . . . instead the opposite had happened. The harness spanned snugly across her pubic mound like a piece of armor, a curiously powerful feeling. Her cheeks had flushed at the sight of her rear end in the bedroom mirror, cupped by the straps in a way that seemed to emphasize its roundness and the curve of her hips, as if she were some softly-painted fertility goddess, the shadows of room casting her in gold and pink. She’d wondered, bouncing on her toes giddily, ifthiswas how Khash saw her, feeling nothing but beautiful at the thought.
The first dildo had not gone over as well. Khash had stared at it on the bedspread, his square jaw working, but no sound emitting from his throat, a condition of speechlessness from which he rarely suffered. Lurielle had just begun to worry he was suffering from apoplexy when he, at last, managed to choke out words.
"It-it’s so . . . so . . .big!"
"I got the orc size!" she exclaimed defensively as he gestured wildly at the silicone behemoth on the bed. It was as long as his own cock and nearly as thick, textured with snaking veins and ridged where the molded foreskin bunched at the base of the pink-tinged head. She’d been impressed with the likeness when she’d first opened it, and didn’t understand his reaction.
"You’re an orc! What was I supposed to buy, the pixie?!"
"Bluebell, there is adifference. . . I can’t just . . . it’s too big!"
"Well how was I supposed to know that?! I’ve never done this before!" She’d collapsed into giggles at that point at the stricken look on his face, screaming with laughter when he caught her around the waist, throwing her to the bed with a bounce. "So there’s a difference between whatyouput inme, but not the other way around."
"Darlin’, that is above my paygrade," he’d scowled. "And requires conditioning that, one, I’m not invested enough to undertake, and two, you are not experienced enough to administer. That’s like offering me an ice cream cone on the other side of a dung heap and then setting the dung on fire. I don’t need the ice cream that badly."
"But you love ice cream," she reminded him, kissing his throat as he harrumphed.
"Yeah, well, I love cake too, and there's a sexy lil’ cake in the kitchen that I can help myself to any time the cake desires. I can live happily with cake. You can keep your ice cream."
"I feel like I’m both the cakeandthe ice cream in this metaphor, and if I have to be a food, I’d rather be cheese. You’re making this very confusing."
When he’d pressed into her a short while later, Lurielle paid attention to every inch, every ripple of texture and press against her walls, the pressure and fullness of his enormous girth leaving her breathless. He fed his cock into her in such a way that she felt the drag of his foreskin on every slow thrust of his hips, felt the press and stretch of him as he slid in slowly, the same way he always did, moving with care until he was seated within her fully, his fat testicles kissing her skin. She had never been especially well-coordinated; had never excelled at dance or liltenu or any other activity that required any degree of agility. She conceded that she was not, in fact, skilled enough to wield a cock of that size and take as excruciating care of him as he took of her. Much like the harness, her second purchase was made after copious amounts of research and browser clearing, with similar success. The goblin model was short and squat, tightly riddled with veins and possessing a bulbous head that never failed to make Khash grunt, small enough for her to control and for him to take with ease, and it got the job done every time.
