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Maybe she’d prefer my apartment so she could leave if she changed her mind, or if she decided not to sleep in my furs. That would be less awkward than her trying to come up with a nice reason for kicking me out of her own apartment. Intimacy among orcs who were not married did not always involve actually sleeping together, but I was unclear how human culture treated this matter. Should I check the internet? Text Dylan? It was probably a bad idea to ask the human hockey player advice on sleep after sex with Abby, and it absolutely was a bad idea to pull out my phone during our dinner to search social media and articles for the answer.

I couldn’t quite remember what we spoke about, but Abby tucked her hand in my arm and pressed herself against my side as we waited for the human to bring her car from the parking area. Then I gave her directions to my apartment, my hands sweaty with anxious anticipation.

What if my hands were too calloused on her skin? What if the pressure of my tusks was not enjoyable? What if my hand-axe was too big, or too small? What if….

I opened the door to my apartment. “Here we are. My den is not as large or as nicely furnished as yours, but I have been trying to–”

She pulled me down to her and gently kissed my mouth. “Bwat, I’m not here to critique your interior decorating skills.”

No, she is here to critique my skills in the furs, I mentally squashed the horrible thought. Abby was kind and warm and a lovely person. She was not the sort of female who would score intimacy on a rating scale. This was not a contest, it was not a performance, it was not a job interview.

This was me, showing how I felt with my hands, my mouth, and my body.

“I am very nervous,” I confessed as I led Abby over to my sofa and sat down, pulling her to the cushions next to me.

“I was too until I saw how nervous you were.” She laughed. “Kiss me, Bwat. Just kiss me. We’ve got all night, we’ve got days and weeks and months and years. Just kiss me, and see where it leads.”

I kissed her. We explored each other’s lips and mouths, our tongues tasting and teasing. Then my hands traced gently along her jaw, behind her ears, and thought her hair. With a small noise, she leaned closer, pulling up my shirt and slowly running her fingers across the muscles of my chest and abdomen, then around to my back.

We took our time, removing each other’s clothing one at a time, moving feather-light hands across naked skin. I memorized each freckle, each curve, each swell, and when I felt my hands knew her body better than my own, I let my mouth lead the way. Her breasts. The sensitive skin of her waist. Her silky thighs. And the warmth of her garden. There I lingered, noticing every shiver and gasp, enjoying the way her fingers gripped my hair, the husky edge to her voice as she said my name. When her breathing grew ragged and her legs trembled, I brought her over the edge, savoring her pleasure.

I savored her pleasure many times that night. And I know she took just as much joy in the pleasure she brought me. When we finally made it to my bedroom and actual furs, we were able to do nothing but collapse in each other’s arms and sleep.

Until the next morning, when we brough each other to ecstasy again.

31

BWAT

The whole team stood before a bald human male with a silver-streaked dark beard and dark eyes that seemed to be casually assessing each of us.

I felt a strange mixture of gritty-eyed exhaustion and bliss. Last night and this morning with Abby had been paradise. We’d hastily showered and had breakfast. Abby had driven us to the arena wearing an odd assortment of wrinkled clothing from a gym bag in her trunk. And when we’d arrived, she’d kissed me, patted me on the butt, and told me she would see me for lunch.

But now I wasn’t sure if lunch with Abby would happen–not with the arrival of the team’s coach.

“I’m your new coach, Bill Rencovitch,” the bald human announced. “I’ve been watching videos of your games, and I’d like to try something a little different today instead of your usual practice. We’re going to divide up as if we’re two teams and play against each other. I’ve got mesh pinnies in two different colors and have assigned each of you to a team and a position. Get on your skates, and I’ll meet you on the ice.”

As we entered the locker room, we saw a basket full of red and blue vest-like shirts. Next to the basket was a roster. We crowded around the sheet, each of us looking to see what our color pinnie we were to wear and what our role would be this practice. With a quick glance I realized that there weren’t enough positions for twenty orcs, which was probably why some of us had a letter A or B after our name.

As expected, Ozar was the red center, and Ugwyll was the blue center. Surprisingly, Eng was marked down as a goalie for the blue team, with Knax acting as goalie for the red team. I looked down the list, worried that I wouldn’t be on it, feeling a wash of relief when I spotted my name toward the bottom. I was to be a left wing on the blue team and would be swapping my position with Pug.

Once we were on the ice, the coach called the A team to play first. I took my position near Knax and watched as Ugwyll took the puck in the drop and shot it toward me. Widening my stance I positioned my stick to receive the puck. It never made it to me as one of the red team defenders managed to intercept it first. I remained in place, not sure what I should be doing as the puck and the action moved down the ice toward Eng and our goal. In the videos of human games, the wings moved down the ice to support the defenders, but I was unsure of my ability to get back to my position in time if possession of the puck changed to our team.

Eng blocked a goal attempt and Coach Rencovitch blew his whistle. All action stopped, and three orcs fell over as they tried to halt their forward progress.

“Eng, nice block. Wings, you need to be working with your center in strategy to set up your attack. Communicate with each other. Watch each other so you can read body language and signals to know where the puck is going. Bwat, when a pass is coming your way, move forward to intercept it, especially if you see the opposing team’s defense closing in. If you just wait for the puck, it’s going to get snatched away.”

I squirmed, knowing the criticism was valid and wished I had more skill on my skates.

“Wings, move forward to the blue line when your goal is under attack so you can help support defense, but still remain on the edge to quickly switch back to offense if needed. And blue defense, be more aggressive about regaining the puck and blocking shots. You hung Eng out to dry there. Don’t let your goalie do this alone. You’re a team. You need to start acting like it.”

We were all suitably chastised, but Ozar was the one who spoke up. “Bwat has shown us some formations and battle strategy used by human hockey teams, but we are unsure how to implement these. Can you guide us?”

The coach smiled. “Absolutely. We’ve got a game this Friday and I’d like us to focus on defense first as far as strategy and team-play goes. Then we’ll do lots of shooting drills to improve handling and see if we can’t manage to get a few shots into the enemy’s net. Let’s switch to the B team for the next round. A team, don’t just be picking your butts on the sidelines. I want you all watching and learning.”

I made my way to the bench area, wondering if human players routinely picked their butts and what exactly that meant.

The next few rounds went much the same as before, with the coach shouting commentary and advice. We tried our best, but we were all disheartened by the time we’d finished our practice and cool down. A very solemn group of orcs walked back to the locker room where we showered in silence.