The lights dim and silently go out. A roar like thunder rises as the mostly-black clad audience begins to absolutely lose its shit. Streams of silvery white light flare to life from the theatrical arc lights high above, while heavy drums begin to pound like angry warhammers.
Pyrotechnics alight the stage in a fiery explosion as the headline act thrashes its way into a soaring, full-throated guitar solo.
The metal gods are pleased with this glorious tribute of song and thunder.
You have waited for this particular show for the last year. The headline act is a European band of pureblooded metal royalty, a band whose very name had once been damned by the holy-roller moral crusaders up in the Capitol. Churches had burned their albums en masse, calling them ‘the sounds of Satan’. They were later inducted into the Rock N’ Roll Hall of Fame for those same once-reviled songs, however that was easily some twenty years ago.
Today the band is a group of five aged men old enough to be your grandfather, but they still provide no less fine a performance as they did in their younger years. Rarely if ever do they come to the States, and you were first in line on the website when the tickets went on sale.
You are wearing one of their vintage band shirts, a rare alternate logo featuring flames, a thunderbolt, a red dragon, and several humanoid skulls bearing sharp fangs. It took you a while to find it, but someone posted it on an online auction website for far less than what it was actually worth, especially to you.
Soft, well-broken in blue jeans and a pair of black leather motorcycle boots complete your ensemble; even your earrings are a pair of tiny silver thunderbolts, yet another reference to your favorite band’s album art.
The scream of electric guitars and pounding drums are in your veins; in spite of the screaming, thrashing hot mass of humanity surrounding you in the near total darkness of the audience, you are at peace and in your element.
The band finishes their first song, a victorious, soaring song of thunder and fire. You recognize the next song up, it’s a violent thrashing of heavy drums that gets often played during shootout scenes in action movies. It’s clearly a crowd favorite, and it amps up the entire venue.
The aged yet still handsome black clad and black haired lead singer raises his big hands up and out towards the crowd like a priest conducting a service; he smirks as he wordlessly gestures a swirling circle.
The crowd’s collective roar reaches a fever pitch; almost instinctively they know what he wants them to do.
Form a circle pit, now.
Like soldiers in a battlefield, the violent throngs of humanity flow outwards from the center of the room and eventually form two walls of fleshy bodies, which quickly reshapes itself into a wide open circle in the dim auditorium.
Men and women alike fling themselves one by one into the open center, each one thrashing and swinging violently, sometimes colliding headfirst into each other or slamming limbs into shoulders or fists.
Each entrant into the circle pit moshes for a while, and eventually gets either bumped out or reabsorbed into the living body-wall, or visibly tires and bounds out, cheering triumphantly as they exit.
Lights flash and flare in the darkness as a melee in miniature begins to break out in the circle pit. Violent drums pound out the pulse of everyone in the room.
A man’s lip is accidentally busted in the happy fray. Red blood is splattered across the dance floor, but the man seems not to care. His white teeth grin out bright between the streams of crimson, and he laughs like a drunken fool.
The onlookers cheer for the wounded man, and his dancing becomes more vigorous in response. A shoe sails overhead, and a hat lies randomly discarded on the floor.
Steeling yourself and roaring a battle-cry, you abandon any sense of self-protection, give into the adrenaline of the moment and fling yourself into the pit. In the moment before you are tossed into the sweat-stained, bloody tempest, you realize the pit is growing and encompassing ever more of the venue with every drumbeat.
An elbow almost immediately catches your left shoulder, as your right shin takes a hard boot. Both of these hits are hard and will surely bruise, but you dance and laugh anyways. You’re a tough little bitch, and you’ll not take shit from anyone, especially not tonight!
This is your night!!
Your feet and fists fly, your heart is pounding wildly in your chest. Adrenaline is thumping too heavily in your veins for you to feel exhaustion or minor injury. Stinging hot sweat runs into your eyes, surely ruining your carefully applied eyeliner and flat-ironed hair, but this ‘dance’ is a war-tribute to the metal gods singing high above you.
All fashion faux pas incurred in battle are forgiven for those brave enough to mosh in the pits.
As you dance/fight, you keep accidentally hitting the thick collection of other moshers in the pit. It is getting full, hot, and heavy with thrashing, dancing bodies.
Other people accidentally hit you as well, but now it is getting hard to even lift your arms without hitting another person. Slowly you become aware that one side of the circle is somewhat more open than the other, and you thrash your way over towards it.
Now in your new position in the huge auditorium, you note that the air is fresher and a little bit less stale from the exhalations of thousands of very warm people. You can actually move a bit here, however you are no less sweat-slicked and gross than you were a moment ago.
A second wind hits you like a blessing from Valhalla; you are reinvigorated, and begin to dance and mosh violently once again with a cheer.
The roar of the drums deafens you. You can hear nothing but feel everything; the volume and reverberation from the soundwaves in the air is so bone-penetrating and intense that ‘feel’ is just as good a description as ‘hear’ at these triple-digit decibels. Strobes pulse overhead like lightning strikes through the night sky.
You close your eyes, and just dance your heart right out.
Suddenly your swinging left arm impacts something solid - and curiously – somehow both cold and wet in this place of very hot and sticky. You also have the distinct feeling of having hit something very hard and sent it flying away.
You open your eyes and see something you were not exactly expecting to see; a man.
An Orc man.
A very big – he was possibly the biggest one you’d ever seen - and very green Orc man... standing exactly within your careless arm’s reach.
Orcs were not explicitly forbidden from attending concerts or visiting the same public places as humans - thanks to a controversial ‘freedom of equal access’ court ruling a few years back - but they were not particularly ‘welcomed’ anywhere.
They were still very much considered second class citizens; often stereotyped as stupid, half-feral, ugly, or dangerously aggressive by an unfortunately still-too-wide slice of human society. These days at least, slurs and open discrimination was frowned upon in good company.
In bad company however, an Orc could at best find themselves in jail, escorted out by security, or in the emergency room, or at worst... no longer amongst the living. It was still considered murder to kill one, although the question of the validity of their ‘humanity’ was still being argued back and forth in the halls of Congress.
Orcs weren’t allowed to hold public office, vote, or even drive, but you could have one as a coworker, a neighbor, an employee, or even as a platonic friend (anything further than that WAS still definitely against the laws).
And this one man was the only one you had seen all night.
And by all appearances, you had just knocked his large plastic – there was no glass allowed for obvious safety reasons in concerts of this type – beer cup into the air and to the ground, spilling the entire contents across the floor in an amber toned puddle.
His plain black t-shirt, dark denim blue jeans, and gigantic black leather boots were splattered with the white foam of his spilled beer. Gold rivulets of his drink ran down his wide green arms to the floor in big drops. His tusked mouth hung slightly open in shock, his eyes downcast and partially hidden under a shaggy mop of shiny black hair.
You fucked up good, dingus.
Then, as if in slow motion, his head began to lift up with an exasperated sigh. His green pointed ears poked out from the sides of his black hair, indicating that they were slightly lowered down from the usual upright position common of Orcs.
Without even seeing his face you could tell that he was visibly annoyed, disappointed, and surprised in equal measure. The big Orc’s entire demeanor oozed a hurt, somewhat melancholy body language that just made you feel truly horrible for what had happened to him.
Before you could apologize to him, a pair of deep golden honey-brown eyes met your equally surprised ones. The Orc’s bright eyes flew open wide and sparkled liquidly in the flash of the strobes and the firelight from the pyrotechnics.
The large green man’s body stiffened awkwardly upright as he froze in what appeared to be terror... but since his expression was frozen in time in some sort of weird, Sphinx-like half-gasp, you weren’t sure if ‘fear’ was exactly the correct description for his current emotional state either.
Standing now at his full height and peering at you from underneath his long surfer-styled swath of feathery, ebony locks, the big green man stood easily some 7’9 or 7’10 tall.
He was absolutely huge, broad-chested and thickly built, with powerful looking forearms, a massive body-builder’s neck and thick, wide thighs and calves, and - rather incongruously on somebody with such an otherwise muscular build - a bit of a pudgy belly and rounded, chubby, rather boyish cheeks. A small, wide-set nose with a rotund end sat squarely in the middle of his smooth, moss-green face.
Four thick, ivory-colored tusks, two of them very large (probably some six inches long and very dangerous looking) and two small tusks (quite like canine teeth that pointed up and not down) jutted upwards and out from inside his plump, light green lower lips.
He was clearly still young but definitely a fully adult man, probably whatever the Orcish equivalent of your own age was. You noticed that his once lowered ears were now bolt upright, like visible green exclamation marks half-hidden in his fluffy dark hair.
And he looked back at you like you had just hit him in the face with a truck.
A sudden peal of laughter from nearby broke you both from your momentary paralysis.
Several random onlookers apparently had witnessed you knocking the poor Orc man’s drink all over himself, and now had burst out laughing and pointing at him.
You distinctly heard two male voices rise above the din of music and drums shouting ‘Stupid greenskin lost his beer! Hah!’ and ‘Ha ha, let’s see if he punches her lights out for the party foul!’
The Orc snapped his head towards the laughter with a start, realized a moment later that it was definitely directed at him and his situation, and visibly deflated with a ‘this is all too familiar to me’ type of frustrated sigh.
His pointed green ears drooped downwards in humiliation, and his shining, golden-brown eyes turned sadly from you and back towards the floor. The giant man chewed his lower lip uncomfortably, appearing to be silently wishing himself into a dark little void of nonexistence.
If you had felt horrible about knocking his drink all over him before, the mocking laughter and racial insults now being thrown at him because of your fuck up made you feel physically ill.
You rushed forward and grabbed at his arm – but stopped just before you touched his skin, for fear of inflicting some unknown cultural insult or sin upon the poor guy by touching him - when the sudden movement made him look up at you again with a sad, dejected expression.
“I’m so sor-“ Nope, that was way too quiet.
Nobody would hear your words in here, certainly not this close to the twenty plus deep industrial speaker stacks.
You stopped and leaned in closer to his face while readjusting your volume to scream directly at him in order to try to be heard. “I’m so sorry!! I totally didn’t see you while I was dancing!! I totally fucked up and hit you!! I’m so sorry, man!! Please let me get you a new drink!!”
You offered a sincere, apologetic smile to that as well, hoping that your kind expression would convey the intent of what the drowned out sound of your words might not.
The Orc flicked his bright eyes left and right nervously, trying to suss out the mood of the now somewhat hostile atmosphere around him before answering you.
“I...” he stammered out awkwardly, before realizing that he too would need to shout in order to be heard. His face drew up into a grimace, lower lip pulled high above his upper lip in a sort of frustrated pout.He seemed reluctant to talk to you, let alone shout at you in public.
Eventually instead of shouting a response, he simply shook his head in a sad, universal ‘no’.
You frowned. You had to make this better for this poor guy. Orc or not, you had likely just ruined this poor young man’s fun by being a careless dumbfuck. It was your duty to make it right again for a fellow metalhead.
A funny smirk crossed your lips as an idea burst to life, and you nodded ‘yes’ enthusiastically back to him with smiling eyes.
The tall green man looked panicked, as if somehow you hadn’t understood him correctly. He suddenly threw up both of his hands up defensively – you noted that he had very big, soft looking hands with very large - but notably neatly trimmed - human-shaped, light colored flat fingernails, and palms that were a shade lighter green than the rest of his skin - as if to say ‘no’. To try to make sure you that you understood him this time, he shook his head no once again.
Feigning again that you were a complete idiot and didn’t understand him, you grinned wickedly and nodded ‘yes’ in response. You then swooped down, picked up his empty plastic cup and walked around him, motioning for him to follow.
Another nervous glance around the room – you saw that his hecklers had all dispersed or had continued moshing and singing and ignoring him again - and he quietly did.
Moving away from the stage itself took several minutes of weaving around the throngs of amassed humanity in the dark. You generally knew where the refreshment bar was, which of course was at the ass-end of the opposite side of the huge indoor venue from the main stage. At that distance, the volume of the band was still omnipresent and loud, but the decibels were down to where normally spoken conversation could be had.
You approached the refreshment bar in the back, sat down at a stool with no other patrons nearby, and turned back around to make sure that the Orc was still following you - he was, however he lagged behind and remained some twenty-to-thirty odd feet away from you. He also looked somewhat bewildered, out of place and confused.
You leaned your back up to the bar, and patiently watched and waited for the big Orc to finish making his reluctant arrival.
Instead however, he shuffled to a stop a weirdly long distance from you, and began nervously rubbing his forearms and head. You noticed that it seemed that he was desperately trying not to look at you, particularly at your face.
Suddenly, the Orc seemed to become aware that you were indeed staring at him. You flashed him a reassuring smile that indicated you meant no ill by it, and merely that you were watching him because you were waiting for him to come over.
In response to your smile, he swiftly spun on his heels and became quite fascinated by an unmarked mauve wall, an out of date and partially torn off old cellphone service advertisement poster, an errant sticker placed on an electrical panel, and an overflowing litter can.
People passing by simply ignored him (in spite of his size and random placement in the room); the various people milling about did not appear to be the source of his weird and rather awkward behavior. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, feigning interest in anything but you.
Maybe he was still mad at you for spilling his beer? Nah, he never seemed ‘angry’ with you about the beer incident.
Disappointed and humiliated? Sure. But not angry.
To be honest... if he were a human guy, you’d think that he was acting like he totally had the hots for you. Did Orcs even see humans in that sort of way?
You didn’t know.
The huge green man stuck his hands in his pockets and squirmed visibly – suddenly he noticed that you were still looking at him - and he turned immediately away to intensely study a sign nearby, which read ‘LACTATION ROOM’.
Panic struck him like a lightning bolt, sending his big hands flying out from his pockets in utter horror at what you had just seen him feign interest in. The adjective ‘uncomfortable’ couldn’t even begin to pay the postage on his embarrassed body language at the moment.
You snickered quietly at his hilarious (over)reaction.
That such an almost comically oversized, strong and dangerous looking guy could be so utterly awkward under your gaze was downright… cute.
Then, almost as if on cue, the pudgy-bellied, awkward, young Orc man finally made the mistake of making full-on direct eye contact with you.
Seemingly realizing that he could not escape from actually talking to you, he gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes upward in resignation. His big cheeks blew up into a huff, sending a tuft of black hair fluttering upward like a long feather.
Your cheeks blushed pink as a stupidly girlish giggle escaped your lips.
He was pretty damned cute, wasn’t he.
You smiled your friendliest smile and motioned for him to come closer. Time to get this mess over with and fixed up, then get you back out on the concert floor living it up.
After a brief pause and another quick displacement activity/glance at his own feet/the floor, the Orc quietly walked up and stopped maybe four feet away from you. His big green hands were once again stuffed deep down into his jeans pockets, but you still could see his thick fingers fidgeting frantically away despite the heavy denim fabric in the way.
As if suddenly aware that you could see his nervous fidgeting, he snapped his hands out of his pockets and placed them flatly against his sides.
‘He-hello’. The timid half-smile returned.
You smile back, warmly. “Hi. I’m y/n. Y/n, L/n” You gesture at the bar with an inviting, expansive wave. “Tell me what it was that you were drinking that I knocked across the room like a dumbass, and I’ll buy you a new one… that’s assuming I don’t accidentally spill it on you again.”
Sigh. You were not smooth, even in friendly conversation.
The big green man looked sheepishly at you again (yeah, there goes those fidgeting hands of his). If his large fingers could’ve tied themselves into knots, they would have.
“I’m… K-Kurosh. Kurosh Ironblood. And it was a beer… but… I don’t… I don’t really drink.” His voice at normal volume was deep, resonant and wonderfully masculine; sort of like listening to a bear, or a thunderstorm, or an oak tree talk.
You were now pretty sure that you could listen to him stammer on about absolutely fuck-all nothing for hours with that lusciously dark, rumbly voice of his.
Kurosh peered down at the suddenly very interesting bar stools and continued. “I just figured since everyone else I saw was having one, that I should try it too... that it was just kind of the thing to do here. I usually just drink soda or coffee… I... I love caffeine.”
The faintest suggestion of a smirk escaped his soft green lips. “I hadn’t even tasted it, I was just carrying it around all full like an idiot. No wonder it got spilled on me. I guess I was just asking for it. I’m such a dumbass. I don't even know what I'm doing here, I shouldn't have come...”
Even him merely telling you what his order was delightfully awkward. This guy was a hoot and a half.
You laughed softly in response. “It’s ok, I'm glad you're here Kurosh. Besides, the crappy beer they sell smells like piss anyways. I think they just run the urinals through the taps around here.”
Kurosh snorted and pulled his lips back from his big teeth in an obviously humorous way. He looked like he was stifling a laugh.
A laugh! That was definitely a new goal of yours - get him to laugh. You totally had to hear it. You bet it sounded big and magnificently thunderous.
“Do you want me to get you a soda instead, Kurosh?” you asked with a smile.
The big Orc finally looked you in the face – but just for a moment. His pointed green ears were stiffly upright; he looked genuinely surprised by your offer to buy him something just because he had said that he liked it. “You really don’t have to! I… I’m fine. Really. Really fine.” He still seemed incapable of looking at your eyes or face directly for more than a whole second.
Why was he so weirdly nervous around you?
Maybe he thought you stunk.
Might that be why he was avoiding facing you so strongly? You had always heard that Orcs possessed a much stronger sense of smell than humans; maybe humans just smelled like ass to them?
Nah, that didn't seem right. He wasn't holding his breath, in fact his chest was rising and falling at a surprisingly rapid pace. He just seemed... uncomfortable.
You ignored his discomfort and simply smirked wickedly in response. “I know you’re really fine, but do you want a Coke or a Sprite?”
Kurosh’s face turned up in shock and flushed a deep shade of pinky-green, and suddenly the cold tray of sliced lemons ten feet away became the absolute center of his visual universe.
After a miniature eternity of awkward, uncomfortable silence: "...Root beer. I-if you insist. P-please," came the smallest whisper of a reply from his lips.
You were beet red and for the first time, truly grateful for his awkwardness and general distaste for looking you in the eyes.
Without speaking further to Kurosh, you wave the bartender over and place an order for a root beer - to oddly be served in an empty beer cup - and soon an ice cold soft drink appears in front of you.
You pay, tip the keep, pick up the drink, and make a tapping rhythm on the edge of the bar counter to attract Kurosh’s attention (who was still not looking at you until you drummed much louder than you had wanted to... but hey, it totally worked!) and motion him to come with you to a distant table with two folding chairs.
As you walk, you question to yourself why you are continuing to bother and interact with this awkward - but obnoxiously cute - Orc-man, instead of just giving him his damn replacement drink and going back to the circle pit and the show. This was your dream night after all, your band, your happily violent mosh pit... but instead you are choosing to sit in a dark corner table in the bar area with a big, beer-soaked Orc dude who seemed to be carrying a fairly heavy social anxiety issue along with him.
Kurosh politely follows you, and gently sits his giant bulk into the small metal seat. The seat creaks and heaves under the strain of 300-350 (400? the dude was BIG) pounds of Orc body. Clearly the design was designed by and meant for human use, and not the generally wide and generally heavy form of Orc people.
You hid your quiet shame over the weirdly racist tiny chair, and slid the root beer over to Kurosh with a reassuring smile. "Here you go, just keep it away from me... because... " - you smiled wickedly again and motioned elbowing the hell out of something, which judging from your feigned speed, would have sent the ‘something’ that you would have impacted into low orbit.
Kurosh smiled for the first time - actually smiled! And yes, there was way too many big teeth in it so he looked like a giant green puppy trying to smile, but hey, it was really damned cute when he did it. "Th...thank you, y/n. You really didn't have to do this for me," he muttered softly.
You shook your head. "Nope, I definitely did. What happened was totally my bad… I mean come on, your clothes are still all wet from it! I fucked this up, I fix it. That’s how it works with me."
You puffed yourself up humorously. “I’m y/n, unfucker of all things fucked up. Even if I am the usual cause of the fuck ups in the first place…”
The big Orc grinned again for an all too brief moment at your silliness before he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a long draw off of his icy cold drink.
A soft smirk slowly perked up along his green lips, exposing more of those big, pointed, ivory colored - but notably, meticulously clean - teeth. "This at least doesn't taste or smell like piss." His face makes an ‘I’m definitely not drinking pee’ face, and you bust out laughing.
So someone DOES have a sense of humor after all! You just gotta get him to laugh. It will be great, you just know it.
He smiled playfully at your boisterous laughing, seemingly more at ease with you repeatedly showing him your sense of humor, and perhaps because he was somewhat hidden away from everyone else and concealed in the dark corner.
Kurosh’s long black bangs hung far down into his face, dancing like animated crow feathers as he moved slightly... and just then you noticed he had a little silver stud earring nestled into the soft green lobe of his right ear - it was a tiny thunderbolt symbol.
You pointed out your own earrings of similar design, and indicated his. "Look, we match."
Kurosh shook his head and shrugged playfully. "Huh? Oh, the thunderbolt? I got mine because I nearly died a few years ago from electrocution. It was a stupid breaker box that nobody told me was still hot and connected to the damn power main... "
You winced in pain and clutched at your earlobes protectively. "Electrocution?! Holy crap, I definitely didn’t get fried to get these, I bought them online!"
Drawing up your face in a wounded grimace, “How bad did it... hurt? When you… got zapped?”
The big Orc grinned proudly. "It was AWFUL. Threw my big butt right across the room and blew a stream of sparks that nearly caught the whole place on fire. Knocked me out for two days and I woke up in a hospital with the worst headache ever and swelling in one lobe of my brain.”
A large green finger suddenly pointed skyward for added emphasis. “That was my first AND my last day as an electrician's apprentice! And it totally sucked ass."
Kurosh relaxed back into his too-small seat and took another sip of his drink. "But really, it worked out in the end though. Losing that stupid job put me into a position to learn coding."
An Orc... who programs computers?
You’d always heard that Orcs weren’t particularly technologically inclined as a race... but like most things involving rumors and painting entire races of people with obnoxiously broad brushes, it appeared to be composed entirely of bullshit.
"Programming? Like... computers, techy developer stuff?”, you ask.
Kurosh nodded affirmatively.
This new added detail totally explained his soft looking hands and slightly plump physique - he's a code jockey... a computer guy who drinks a lot of caffeinated sodas, not a breaking rocks or metalworking guy who chugs beer.
He’s... a big Orcish nerd.
Kurosh continued, totally unaware that you had mentally tagged his name now with the ‘nerd’ descriptive. “I'm a stay at home web site designer, code editor, and freelance game developer. I like herding ones and zeroes. It makes me happy to make things work that other people just can’t seem to figure out, and I’ve got a pretty good reputation in the industry for fixing jobs that are thought of as unfixable by almost everyone else. The fact that I do it from home, remotely, makes it easier for people to work with me over long distances and give me jobs when they don't..." he trailed off, suddenly aware again of his heritage.
"...know it’s an Orc doing it," you said, regretfully.
Damn racist bastards.
Kurosh was a sweet guy, Orc or not. He deserved to have his work judged by its quality rather than by the genetic make up of its creator.
He nodded and glanced down at his hands. They were wide and green, and he looked at them almost as if they felt heavier to him than they had a few seconds before. "Yeah. You... you get it. Nobody wants to know that they’re working with someone who... well... looks like me. The few times I’ve been forced to come on site for jobs I’ve been escorted out by security or sent down to the janitorial department. Nobody can believe I’m the highly recommended fixer dev that they hired when they see my face.”
Kurosh sighed softly as he swirled the cubes of his drink around with his straw. "Because of that I... I really don't get out much. Or talk to people - Orcs or humans... well, face to face at least. I talk to them all the time over the phone and Skype though, and I order most of my food and groceries online too. Amazon Prime’s my best friend these days."
He gestured to the band distantly playing. "Hell, I won the tickets for this show on a Twitch livestream thing. I've never even been to a concert before."
Your eyes flew open wide. "N...Never?!"
"Nope. Never," he shrugged nonchalantly.
Your eyebrows bunched together. "Do you know the band who is playing?"
Kurosh nodded again. "I do, but not super well. I'm a bit of a newbie to this kind of music too."
"Do you... like it?" you asked, hopefully.
He smiled softly in response as he glanced up towards the stage. "I do. It's got a good beat to it. I really like the lyrics too, and the lead singer is pretty awesome. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, just does his own thing. Wish I had the balls to be like that."
The big Orc suddenly looked side to side - he seemed to be always on the lookout for someone to mess with him - his anxiety temporarily satisfied with the relative privacy of our little dark corner, his face softened again as a broad smile bloomed across his lips. "But, you know… I'm – I’m actually very happy that I came here tonight. I just really wanted to see a concert live and in person, one time in my life."
His smile deepened, the creases around the corners of his eyes turned up, and more of his white, pointed teeth became visible. A soft blush of pink gently rose on his round green cheeks. "I never thought it would be anything like this though... and I'm actually really having an amazing time tonight, now that I... "
There was something else unspoken in his statement that was just left hanging and unfinished; but then again, he didn't really need to speak the words to fill in the missing portion; the big Orc’s shining amber eyes completely explained what he had left unsaid... and suddenly you understood that what you had interpreted as him being weird or awkward - although he was definitely those things too - was actually him trying to *hide* his eyes from you all night.
The truth was that Kurosh’s sparkling, golden-brown eyes couldn’t hide any of his inner secrets from you worth a good God-damn.
He was painfully too honest of a man; far too unpracticed in face to face conversations to even make an attempt to lie in person. When you made eye contact with him, all of his thoughts and secrets lay right on the surface for you to read, hidden in name only by the thin, crystalline veneer of his honey-colored eyes.
You now knew exactly what he was feeling at this exact moment... and he knew that you could, too.
With a silent flush of hot thunder that channeled straight through your spine to fuse your butt into the metal of your seat, you realized that your first guess had been 100% right...
…Kurosh totally had the hots for you.
You swallowed down a thick knot in your now suddenly bone-dry throat at this new, surprising revelation about your large, friendly green table companion.
You’d absolutely kill for a sip of that cold root beer of his right now.
Taking a view of him through this new lens of understanding, you realized that his fingers were visibly shaking. His pulse pounded in the veins of his neck, his breathing was rapid, discordant and rapidly escaping his control. Even his pointed green ears were telling you the truth; although they were still green, they were also pink and flushed towards the very ends. It was quite cute, and very flattering to be causing this sort of reaction in somebody else.
Kurosh was terrified, excited, and absolutely smitten...
Without realizing you were doing it, you found yourself smiling back at him and admiring how the glistening surfaces of his golden-brown eyes caught the distant flashes of white strobe lights. The flashes looked like lightning trapped in a rich, amber sky.
A deep warm feeling started burning its way through your flushing cheeks, fingers, and core, as he kept his beautiful, honest eyes fixed on yours for way too long.
You found yourself having to consciously remember to breathe, and wondering nervously if he could also see your thoughts through your eyes, or your heart pounding away like a trapped wild animal beneath the thunderstorm intensity of his piercing, but gentle stare.
You drew your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed it slightly, as you began to fidget with a stray lock of hair. The noise of the concert became distant background noise as the world began to collapse around you in electric tingles and volcanic fire.
Kurosh definitely noticed this, and a sweet smile spread across his handsome (…was he handsome, the big green tusky Orc dude? You'd never looked at an Orc in that sort of way before him... but yeah, after a half second’s more of internal debate, you decided that he absolutely was a handsome, attractive man) green face.
He hoped he wasn’t dreaming, that all of the weird faces that you were now making at him was because you were feeling something similar for him.
He was in fact, quite right.
You couldn’t remember when, if ever, somebody had made you feel all distracted, warm, and floaty like this.
You sat in silence, admiring the view before you and enjoying the fluttery feelings you were experiencing. Your eyes roamed around his heavy, masculine jaw line and clean shaven chin, his round baby-boy cheeks... even his funny little Orc nose was small and cute. You wanted to reach over and boop it and make him blush. You just knew he totally would, too.
Kurosh appeared to be lost in some sort of intoxicating, mesmerizing dream; without a doubt he was letting his now darkened eyes roam around your eyes, your body and your facial features. You could tell that he must’ve liked what he saw too, as he swallowed roughly through his almost imperceptibly trembling lips.
With cold flush of goosebumps, your brain sent a helpful reminder of that deep, delicious, velvety voice of his, of his big, soft-looking computer-nerd hands, and his wide, muscular thighs hiding inside those dark blue jeans...
A brief mental fantasy image of what you might find hiding beneath his clothing made you choke a second dry knot down your throat; his upper chest was broad and wide, and his belly plump and squishy looking... bereft of his shirt, would his pectoral muscles be as ripped and muscular looking as his forearms, or doughy and soft like his tummy?
Your greedy, inquisitive mind wandered farther down his body...
Would everything - EVERYTHING - on him be green? Like, was his butt green? Do Orc men even look like human men down there, or like something else...
...Wait, what in the fresh hell was this, y/n?
The Orc dude? Really?
You're getting all hot and dreamy and flustered over... a nerdy, cute Orc dud-...
...yeah you are.
And he can totally tell you are too.
You’re both falling fast - VERY fast - for each other. And neither of you looked like that hitting the brakes was going to happen anytime in your foreseeable futures.
This was a dangerous game that you were both dabbling around in, with actual potential legal ramifications if either of you decided to let these new little feelings grow and chase themselves to their eventual end.
You didn’t think you’d enjoy jail, nor would Kurosh.
Jail was never a kind place, especially to a cute, pudgy nerdy thing like him... even if he WAS an Orc. Actually, especially because he was an Orc. They’d kill him in prison.
You couldn’t let that happen no matter what.
This called for an emergency distraction, right now.
You choked down all the hot, fluttery knots burning in your stomach and leapt up from the chair with your hands thrown open wide.
A fully open-mouthed, toothy grin indicated you were intending on doing something stupid. Your next words totally confirmed it.
“Kurosh! Have you ever moshed?!”
Kurosh nearly fell out of his stupidly small chair in shock as you fired yourself up and shouted, his mouth cracked open in a surprised gasp.
You feigned sudden, uncontrollable excitement, as if this was the BEST and MOST IMPORTANT idea you’d ever had.
Kurosh drew up his face in a confused twist. His breath was quickly trying to unfuck itself from all of his very hot and bothered thoughts about you from a moment before. “No...? -soft pant- S-should I have?”
You grinned wickedly. Nobody has stupid sexy thoughts in the pit. You’re just hot and gross from getting bruised and thrashing and beat up by strangers, and when you’re done, you're too exhausted from the music and the adrenaline to think of all things hot and bothery.
You stand tall, face drawn up like a soldier preparing for war. “To the pit with me, Kurosh. Tonight, I will teach you how to thrash!”
Kurosh frowns, and suddenly looks quite concerned for your sanity.
You motion for him to stand up with a silly, grandiose rising gesture of both hands.
Kurosh however does not; he looks confused, maybe even a little hurt. He wonders how he was so wrong about what he was sure he saw in your eyes a moment ago, and it stings him in the heart.
Kurosh knows logically that it wouldn’t have worked out, mostly because you weren’t an Orc or that he wasn’t a human... but hearts aren’t ever logical creatures.
And neither are you.
You see the hurt in his eyes, and the same sting bites you, too... hard. You decide to force the initiation of Operation: Distraction From Illegal Sexy Thoughts by thrusting your open right hand up to his chest.
Kurosh stares wide eyed at your offered hand as if it were a sacred relic. He didn’t seem to know if he should, or even could touch it.
You shook your open hand at him. “C’mon Kurosh, it won’t bite. Take my hand and come with me.”
He looks nervously at your face, then hand, then back again. Still no movement.
Your mouth draws into an evil, mischievous line. “You aren’t afraid, are you?”
A low, loud snort leaves his flared nostrils. That got him.
Kurosh snaps his eyes to yours - he looks determined and offended, his lips drawn down at the corners and ears lowered - “I’m not afraid of anything,” he growled low and threateningly.
You gathered that being accused of being ‘afraid’ must’ve be some Orcish cultural point of pride insult.
You would REALLY need to read up on Orcish social etiquette later.
Kurosh stood from the creaky tiny chair, snorted with annoyance again, and engulfed your tiny hand into the vast wall of green that was his big right hand.
You looked down at the sight - the image of his giant mitt wrapped around yours was comical. It was just like your wrist was terminated at the point where his big green fist began.
Ok, well… that had definitely worked, you guessed...
You grinned again, and suddenly charged back towards the stage with your new giant green charge in tow.
You deftly guided you and Kurosh through the throngs of people, weaving around obstacles and happy, head banging bodies.
You made sure to keep an eye out for anyone being negative or giving you grief about Kurosh’s presence, or you for holding his hand, but few seemed to notice that he was an Orc in the darkness and the flashing lights until you’d already passed.
Even fewer noticed that you were leading him by the hand or together, and those that did didn’t look like they cared. For that you were grateful; you didn’t want to start a fight just to have a good time with your new friend.
You peered back to check on Kurosh as you weaved your way forward; for once, he wasn’t even looking at the crowd of humanity defensively. You watched his eyes studying the point at which your hands were held, and with a stinging electric shock, you were suddenly reminded that you were touching him skin to skin there.
You realized that you had never touched an Orc’s bare skin before.
Kurosh’s skin was smooth and soft; exactly like the skin on the palms and fingers of a human but several times bigger. He was so warm, like a smooth stone in the sun. You unconsciously smiled at the sight and sensation.
His honey-brown eyes flicked up and noticed you glancing back at him with a sweet expression writ bold across your cheeks; he then smiled back at you in a way that made you feel all hot and fluttery again.
You must’ve suddenly blushed or given him some other sign that his smile had affected you like that; because a few seconds after you looked back in the direction of your travel again, you felt his wide thumb press itself gently into the center of your hand, and rub a little tender circle in your palm.
You clenched your entire body and swallowed hard; there was something so very sweet and sensual about it, just a tiny little message hidden from view of anyone else and intended only for the both of you to know.
You took your pointer finger and traced it gently along the outside of his thumb, feeling all the soft, warm creases across his joints there. You could feel the subtle differences between the folds of skin on the joints of his thumb, the soft sides, and finally the raised ridges of his fingerprints.
You glanced back at Kurosh again to see his reaction; his eyes were dark, and he had his lower lip drawn into his mouth playfully. His gaze was locked hard into yours now, and he looked drunkenly lost.
You got the distinct feeling that the big Orc would follow you around all night long if you kept your hand in his... but that he would follow you around forever if you kept touching his skin like this.
At this moment, you kind of wished that you could.
However, before forever could happen, you reached the edge of the circle pit.
You weaved yourself and Kurosh right up through the throngs of humanity right up to the edge.
Kurosh grimaced; he suddenly realized that this was where you had been leading him to, and it looked... violent. Very violent. There were bloody shirts, random hats and shoes, a stray backpack, a few plastic beer cups in the center of a melee of fists, hand gestures, and flying feet.
You noticed his distress and with a grin, threw yourself in as an example.
The song currently playing featured a heavy drum solo, which you knew was coming up soon. The pit was thrashing and fists were flying, and so were you.
You proceeded to give Kurosh one hell of a show.
You closed your eyes, threw your fists high, and slammed shoulder first into a large human man, who reciprocated the friendly slam. You bounced back and forth a few times, before another ‘partner’ slammed you back, and you slammed them, all the while headbanging and bouncing vertically.
Your hair was flying, sweat was pouring, and you were screaming happy bloody murder as you thrashed.
You were back home in your element.
A wall of flesh slammed your shoulder surprisingly gently at a height taller than what you could have expected from the nearby audience members; you opened your eyes at the impact and saw the giant form of Kurosh, smiling down and thrashing along with you.
You gave him your biggest, toothiest, fireworks-going off smile and slammed your whole body into that big meaty Orc shoulder of his with gusto. He hardly moved in response, so great was the difference between your body masses.
Kurosh suddenly burst out with a laugh so loud that it was audible over the band and the twenty-deep speaker stacks. It sounded deep like thunder, and low like the roar of a jet.
It. Was. Absolutely. Fucking. Magnificent.
Mission accomplished, y/n! His laugh was absolutely worth the effort you had expended into obtaining it. You grinned like a fool and bounced up and down, slamming your shoulder and body into him exclusively.
Kurosh quickly returned your enthusiasm. He pushed back a little harder into you than before, and gently knocked you back a few feet.
Jesus, he was strong.
The drum solo in the song suddenly started up, and the pit went absolutely fucking apeshit. Fists and feet and shoulders flew as the strobe lights stuttered from darkness to white repeatedly.
Other moshers started slamming into you and Kurosh, and both of you started dancing with the crowd.
A few random people laughed as they slammed into the big Orc, and he slammed them right back with a loud shout. The couple of people who did mosh with him seemed not to care that he was what he was, they just seemed to be enjoying having a really big dude to thrash with them. People generally loved a big dude in the pit.
However, you noticed that several others moved themselves farther away once they figured out that their new mosh partner was an Orc; their furtive, nervous glances showed that they were somewhat fearful or suspicious of him.
The wall of onlookers however, didn’t seem to have the same reservations as the actual moshers who would have to physically contact him did. The crowd cheered when Kurosh would slam two or three people at once, and those same two or three people would rush him again for another round. The tall green man roared with effort as he playfully impacted people; the harder he went on them, the greater the cheering was in response. He was quickly becoming a bit of a celebrity in the pit.
Kurosh himself was laughing to the point where little silver tears were coming out of the corners of his eyes; he was absolutely LOVING this. You got the impression that he never got to really let himself loose in public, let alone physically, or with humans.
You moved closer to the wall of onlookers and out of the way of Kurosh and his new fans. He needed as much room to move his big body as possible.
As you thrashed along near the wall of stationary crowd members, bouncing up and down to the furious beat of the drums, you suddenly felt a clawlike hand grab your right buttcheek.
Your eyes whirled around - a light-skinned human man with a red bandana around his neck and dark, lecherous eyes had his hand locked onto your ass via the pockets of your jeans. His face had a big ugly scar across it, from his jawline to the top of his head, and his cheeks were pocked with many small red sores that you associated with methamphetamine users.
You grabbed his tendony wrist and shouted, but he was much stronger and your voice was lost in the drums and the roar of the crowds.
His alcohol-scented teeth glinted white in the strobe lights and he wrapped you up in his left arm, drawing you into an unwanted embrace and into the crowd wall. He was trying to drag you into the mass of humanity. The gross man squeezed your asscheek cruelly as you fought him back. You weren’t going down without a fight; you shouted obscenities into his ugly face and kept trying to hit and kick him. You swore you heard a lot of shouting coming down from the stage itself, but the music played on.
Suddenly an absolute freight train of a fist came flying over your right shoulder and into the left jaw of the man, who went down hard to the floor and backwards into several crowd members.
The owner of the fist grabbed you bodily and pulled you safely up behind his broad back; the massive shape of your protector revealed themselves to be none other than Kurosh.
Unfortunately, the ugly man was down, but not out. He leapt right up to his feet, and swung into Kurosh’s face. Kurosh took the blow square on his lower left jaw, but appeared to sustain no visible injury.
The big Orc swung back and missed as the man dodged, just in time to get his jaw popped again from underneath.
Kurosh was all raw strength and absolutely no skill, and his opponent clearly had much more speed and experience in fighting.
As their blows kept flying, people started shouting and fleeing as a full on fight broke out. Security had started making their way from the stage into the pit area, just as Kurosh’s big left fist finally made a lucky strike and found the ugly man’s face, sending blood all over as he busted the man’s lips and nose with one powerful hit.
Just as security arrived and separated the two combatants, the music stopped and a light shone down onto the scuffle from above.
The ugly man, still angry and very much conscious, snarled and fought against the security team’s hold on him. “Who the FUCK let this ugly ass greenskin motherfucker in here! LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO ME! Get his pigfaced ass out of here before he kills someone!!” he shouted over sprayed blood and spittle.
The lead singer suddenly spoke. “Oi, ya bloody fuckfaced cunt! I know you fockin’ heard me a second ago!! Yeah you, in the red bandana, don’t act like you don’t know I saw you! I saw ya putting yer bloody hands’ all over me little sister there, and yer wee racist tirade against the Orcish brother who saved her from ya is none such appreciated in one of my shows, ya pervy fuck.”
The tall, black-haired singer pointed at the security team, who awaited his command. “Security, let me Orc brother go, he’s done nothing wrong. Brother’s a right ‘ero! But I’ll have ya escort that utter fockin’ handsy bastard in the red bandana the fock out of me show!!”
In fury, the ugly man turned his hateful, drunken vengeance towards the lead singer now, as security team released Kurosh and began to drag him off. “Fuck you man, how can you side with this fucking ugly greenskinned pigfaced fucking animal over me? He’s not even human!”
The tall, black-haired singer spat hatefully back. “You racist assed motherfucker. Me own grandmum was a lovely Orcess, ye daft cunt!!”
You were as surprised as the rest of the audience with this revelation; the singer was known to be a very big, muscular man, but he looked fully human.
He’d never revealed this little bit of trivia in any of the thousands of interviews that he’d done before. He had no tusks, no pointed ears, he was pale skinned and not green; nothing about him would make you think he was a quarter Orc.
His long, pale pointer finger jabbed skyward in anger. “Me dear sweet grandmum spent her whole life avoiding and being hurt by racist cunts like yerself, and I’ll not be having you treating a green brother like shite, especially not in me show. Get the fuck out of my audience, and don’t ya ever come back!”
The man shouted another series of curses as he was wrestled down and hauled off.
With a laugh, the band’s silver-haired base guitar player shook his head and mocked the man with a crotchgrab and a raised middle finger salute, without ever taking the cigarette out of his mouth.
The lead singer aimed his finger outwards in a sweeping arc, “And tell your sexist, racist motherfucking friends they ain’t bloody welcome in none ‘o me shows either!!” Long hair fluttering in the lights, the singer remained tense and angry looking, as he waited for the man to be drug roughly off through a door.
Clutching his microphone and walking out to the edge of the stage, the handsome, aged singer swept his hand outwards in a grand gesture. “That goes for the rest of ya too! If any of ya out there are racist fucktrumpets who try to harm women and bring hate into my show; well, there’s the goddamned door, ya cunts. I got not the time nor the energy to deal with your hateful, hurtful shite, ya dirty bloody focks!!”
The audience responded with a deafening roar of applause and raised fists and horns gestures.
Going down to one slender, black leather clad knee, the old rock star extended an open palmed hand towards you and Kurosh, who had stood there dumbfounded and panting the entire time. “I’m sorry ya had to deal with that arsehole tonight, me brother and sister, but I’ll try me best to make it up to ya both.”
A wide smile broke across his chiseled, light-toned face toward the both of you; as his lips rose up into a very broad smile, you could now see that his lower canine teeth were a tiny bit too long to be those of a fully human man. He was indeed telling the truth of his Orcish ancestry.
Standing up again, the old rock star aimed his hands up and out like a conductor. “Me brothers and me sisters, all! Ya come here to rock out to me music? I ask only that ya not be a right hateful fockin’ bastard to others, be them black, brown, a woman, gay, or green. All ya’ are family to me fer life. All of ya!! Yer family to me, and family to each other! Yer me beloved brothers and sisters, and I love all’a’yah!!”
The crowd roared their approval in response.
He continued speaking, hands up and out high. “Tonight though, me and my boys up here are going to bring my family a special fockin’ treat. I’ve performed this song live only once before, and it was a long ass time ago when I did.”
His face pulled itself into a happy, lightly-wrinkled grin. “Well tonight, me beloved family, I’ll be singing that same song in honor of me little sister, who refused to take any shite from a right bastard, but also in honor of our brave green brother up ‘ere, I’ll be singing it in Orcish tonight!”
His sparkling, mirthful eyes looked down to you with a smile, and then he turned to Kurosh. “Lok’klah nos dohra, moh’nashi arahko lok’rah (In my house tonight, we honor you, brother).” A knowing smirk drew itself across the older man’s face as he bumped his fist against his chest in a gesture that you knew was an Orcish one meant to show honor and respect towards its recipient.
Kurosh looked on in wide eyed disbelief, like someone had handed him a million dollars and told him to blow every penny right then.
The lights dimmed, then slowly came back up on the lead singer, who was now center stage. He began quietly, crooning softly to the gentle strumming of a single acoustic guitar in the harsh syllables of Orcish. However coming off of his seasoned tongue and throat, the hard angles of the words melted like honey.
Suddenly the stage erupted into brilliant flames, as the unfamiliarly versed song burst into a full bore metal hallelujah. The glorious sound of wailing guitars and pounding drums echoed in the venue, as the singer belted out verse after verse in his perfectly tuned Orcish.
You had heard this song only from an old bootleg cassette tape; to hear and see it now performed live was fucking fantastic. It was a song about a warrior who fell in battle, but was resurrected by the Valkyries to fight one final time before ascending to the great halls of Valhalla. It was a tale of sword and steel and fire, and honor, even in death.
It was a fucking fantastic song, and in Orcish it seemed even more primal and natural, like an ancient tribal saga put to music. Maybe it actually was, you considered.
Your attention turned to Kurosh, who remained awestruck and silent; he was utterly entranced by the song. He’d never heard the native language of his people sung for an audience of humans before, and looking around the room, they were all cheering and shouting and dancing to them with happy abandon.
A single silver tear beaded up in the corner of each of his honey-brown eyes, grew fat, and tumbled down his round green cheeks into his long black hair.
Kurosh had always seemed to hate what he was, or treat it like a burden. He constantly was hiding himself away or apologizing to others for his very existence. In truth, he had wished he was not what he was more times than he could count.
Tonight though, a human woman had brought him out from the shadows and into the light with genuine kindness, the crowd had cheered for him there in the pit, the lead singer of the mighty metal band itself had revealed himself - in public! - to be part-Orc and called him a hero before thousands, and now he performed a song in Kurosh’s own native language to the cheers and delight of untold numbers of humans.
He had never once dreamed that such a thing could exist.
You watched his face, smiling, joyful, and at peace. His emerald skin was painted with the many colors of the special effects lighting, the brilliant beams and flashes danced across his sweat-slicked green skin like rainbows in a wet meadow.
You smiled as you pressed yourself into his side and slipped a single hand into one of his big ones. Upon feeling your tiny hand come to rest against the smooth warm skin of his palm, your hands clasped each other tightly. You squeezed him gently and reassuringly.
Kurosh slowly turned towards you with the most glowing, serene expression that you had ever seen on his face. His cheeks were pink, his eyes were wet and smiling, and his hair hung in long black strands, like a crow melting across his head and shoulders.
You would never, ever forget this night... and you knew that neither would he.
Suddenly a tapping on Kurosh’s shoulder made you both turn around; it was one of the main moshers from before, a skinny pale-skinned human man, who was missing a shirt that had been undoubtedly lost in the fray. He was smiling and pointing - a pit was reforming just behind you. The man grinned hopefully; he was inviting Kurosh to mosh again.
Kurosh looked at you as if to ask for permission to leave your side - you simply laughed and put both hands on his back, shoving him in towards the pit - and in he went again, laughing the whole way.
The pit seemed more energized and electric than before, with everyone getting involved. More people bounced into and slammed Kurosh than before; almost as if whatever fear they had had of touching him themselves had melted away and gone.
Kurosh LOVED it.
He would drop his big arms, bounce moshers off of them, leap up into the air and punch it, and pump his fists violently. The audience cheered and grew more furious as he danced ever harder for them.
Suddenly the lead singer on stage shouted something in Orcish to Kurosh specifically, and then ripped off his t-shirt and flung the remains into the crowd, who scrabbled for bits of the shredded fabric to keep as souvenirs. The singer’s tautly muscled chest shone back to the audience, his pale skin marked with several angular tattoos and many glittering necklaces that hung down from his neck.
Kurosh grinned from ear to ear, and braced himself. He then put both hands to the center of his chest, grabbed at it, and ripped his plain black t-shirt off in two, as he shouted the Orcish words back to the singer and roared - he actually roared!! - back a response that shook the auditorium.
Holy SHIT. That... that was fucking HOT with a capital H.
The moshers around him, suddenly aware yet again that they were in the presence of not just ‘a big dude’, but a nearly eight foot tall roaring, shirtless green adult Orc man, collectively paused for a moment, looked at him, then at themselves... then they all roared an imitation of whatever Kurosh had roared back at the singer, as they too ripped their shirts clean off.
Tattered bits of fabric flew in all directions as the army of now shirtless men - both human and Orc alike - screamed their war cries back to the stage like a wall of thunder as the mosh pit went fucking insane, with Kurosh disappearing deep into the center of the flesh and blood cyclone.
Shoulders began slamming, heads began banging, and pounding fists flew high while thousands of voices roared the same phrase over and over again to the stage in Orcish. You shouted it too, even though you didn’t know what it meant. Whatever it was, it sounded cool as fuck, and you flung yourself into the pit towards the center shouting the unknown phrase into the crowds.
As you moved closer to the area of the pit where you thought Kurosh was, you finally caught a glimpse of his dancing.
The handsome Orc writhing thirty feet before you was an absolute force of nature in motion. His broad, naked green chest sparkled with tiny beads and rivulets of sweat, like diamonds sprinkled on soft green moss. The young man’s pectoral muscles were indeed just as ripped looking as his forearms; under his baggy black t-shirt, Kurosh was secretly hiding a magnificent wall of smooth skin and beefy flesh.
Kurosh’s bare belly was indeed as cute and pudgy as you had imagined it to be, but when viewed all at once, it provided a soft, pleasing edge to all of the hard cut muscles that were stretched across his meaty frame.
With his long, black sweat-soaked hair slinging loose and free, his broad, square shoulders, his heavy thighs and wide calves shifting under the thin cover of his dark jeans, his chest and glistening muscles pulsing away to the thrum of pounding drums, he looked like an emerald-skinned god of war dancing an ancient haka before a screaming army of mighty warriors.
The sight took your breath away, and you suddenly found that you couldn’t move. Your mouth hung open, frozen in a soft gasp. He was a sculpted masterpiece, a beautiful work of art.
As the song finally faded out, Kurosh stopped dancing and thrashing about. As if in slow motion, you watched as he ran one of his big hands through his dripping wet hair, and turned to you. He saw the breathless expression on your face, and his shining cheeks flushed darker in the dim light.
He turned and approached you with long, aggressive strides, his eyes half hidden by long, sweat soaked black locks and fixed hard on yours with an intense, hungry look that sent hot electricity pounding through your veins.
If Kurosh was hard enough to resist when he was a cute, shy nerd with the hots for you, then him as a sweaty, shirtless, muscular metal demigod was damn near impossible.
Your traitorous knees immediately chose this exact moment to turn to fucking jelly. You fully believed that if you stood there long enough you would have liquefied onto the floor like a wax crayon in the sun; your entire body turning to liquid under the heat of his scorching gaze.
His crooked smirk and mischievous, sparkling eyes showed that he could tell that you really liked what it was you were seeing. It absolutely thrilled him to see that his oft-despised appearance could have that sort of effect on someone like you.
Kurosh came and stood before you, silent as a stone…. and quietly began showing himself off for your pleasure. He rolled both of his broad shoulders playfully, feigned the need to stretch his wide arms, and he subtly flexed his massive pectoral muscles at your eye level.
He then stood tall, flipped his wet hair away with one hand, and mischievously watched you with a lasers’ intensity to see your reactions to his efforts.
Of course you took him up on the opportunity to appreciate his gorgeous green gun show. There was no way you’d pass up a chance to take a good, hard look anything that he was willing to let you look at.
And oh, yep. 10/10, 5 stars, A+, 100%. You would definitely rate that handsome, masculine green body of his with whatever the maximum rating was that you had available to use.
You wanted to touch his hard muscles and soft skin, run your hands over his hot, wet body and draw patterns in the glittering spray of sweat beads that sparkled like tiny diamonds in the dim light. You wanted to do lots of things to and with that wet, hot, beefcakey body of his, and watch his face while you did it to him, too.
Kurosh suddenly found himself unable to resist blushing deeply under your very close inspection of his body; you could tell he wasn’t used to this sort of attention on his physicality, or showing himself off for others’ appreciation. But he did like the way it made him feel, too.
Really liked it, in fact.
As the lights remained low between sets, his breathing - which had calmed down to normal after his vigorous moshing - was speeding back up again. His nostrils flared wide, his pulse pounded, and his ears tipped themselves back. He stepped closer to you, far closer than he’d dared come before; he stood just mere inches away from you now.
With another jolt of white-hot lightning, you realized that you were actually turning him on merely by the lustful, appreciative way that you were looking at his half-naked body.
No, actually… it was definitely not just him who was being turned on by the glances currently being cast about.
You were being absolutely set on fire under his hungry, darkened gaze; a deep, burning ache suddenly flared hot from deep inside you.
Standing now before the most handsome man that you had ever encountered before in your life, your traitorous instincts had set your body fucking ablaze from the panties right on up to the roots of your hair.
You unconsciously lifted your hand up to touch the forbidden fruit…
Suddenly, you panicked and remembered jail time and prison beatings and losing your job and Kurosh dying and being excommunicated from all your friends and family...
…But that gorgeous, glistening green skin was so damn tantalizingly close; he was oozing so much body heat that even a few inches away you could feel the temperature rising against your bare arms.
You could hear his breathing getting rougher; you could smell the musky odor of skin oils, a clean, cedarish scented aftershave, exercise, and sweat. He smelled simply intoxicating; like an authentic, real version of what men’s cologne advertisements always offered to their potential buyers.
However, unlike the stupid cologne ads’ false promises of granting their users oodles of machismo and sex appeal - those were always drowned in way-too-strong notes of gross faux sandalwood to ever have a chance to work right in the first place - here stood an honest-to-God source of the real deal. His sweaty, emerald green skin seemed to be a natural font of the intoxicating scents of masculinity, animal instinct, pheromones, and lust.
Reality never needed advertisement, and neither did Kurosh.
You reached farther out to touch that sculpted, glistening naked torso... and instead, abruptly diverted towards the top of his right hand.
Saying nothing, you gathered up his hand and stepped back, pulling him along with you.
Obediently and silently, he came with you.
You carefully led him to a darker, quieter part of the venue, timing your movements so that your passage together was concealed by darkness and not illuminated by the flash of strobe lights.
Once relatively far from prying eyes and hidden by a distracting amount of activity on the stage, you pulled him into a triangular void created by two tall black curtains and a side wall.
A thin vertical beam of light was all the illumination you had within your little hiding place, but that was enough.
The music suddenly rose into a fiery crescendo of screaming guitars and pounding drums, as you stood before Kurosh in the privacy of the curtains.
In the thin, silvery stream of light, you watched him swallow hard and chew his lower lip as he looked at you with confused, hopeful eyes.
Wordlessly, you placed both of your hands against his naked, broad chest, and you stroked his sweat-slicked skin gently. He then softly placed his big hands atop yours and held them against his body like precious gifts. You could feel his powerful heart pounding away inside his massive chest.
His intense, golden-brown eyes were locked onto yours; he was nearly panting with excitement.
You ran your hands across his large, hot body; tracing your way across each knot of muscle and smooth curve of flesh. Kurosh shivered lightly beneath your touches, and purred a soft, pleasing, almost animalistic sound as you felt your way across the young Orc’s soft stomach and meaty abdomen.
Realizing that he was too polite and timid to reciprocate, you guided his hands to your body, inviting him to touch your stomach. As he did, you carefully lifted your precious vintage shirt up and off, revealing all of your upper body to him that was not concealed by your black bra.
Kurosh’s eyes flew open wide, his breathing was softly audible now even above the music. You could feel his hands shaking as he traced the curves of your body with his broad, warm fingers.
You smirked as you reached for your front closing bra clasp, and unfastened it. Slowly, and aimed within the beam of the thin silver light so that he could see every tantalizing detail, you pulled back the satin cups to expose your nude chest to his hungry gaze.
He pulled his hands back from you and stood there, hands still up and open, visibly shaking, mouth slack, eyes dark and wide.
You think he would’ve been less surprised if your boobs had been live grenades or rattlesnakes. How long had it been since the poor guy had seen a pair of titties?
Instead he stood there, too afraid to move, shaking like a leaf and completely hypnotized by your naked breasts.
A soundless laugh escaped your lips as you gently guided both of his big, quivering hands to your boobs. You kept your hands on his to give him reassurance that it was OK to touch you there, or you feared that his hands would have snapped back towards himself in a second.
His fingers slowly began to move around of their own accord; he almost imperceptibly squeezed your breasts simultaneously, then gaining confidence, a little more aggressively a moment later.
You then felt his fingers beginning to explore and test your soft skin and warm nipples beneath his smooth, hot fingertips.
You couldn’t see his face or eyes from the way he had his head drooped down to view what his hands were doing, but his ragged, weirdly hitched breathing gave you a good guess of how wrecked he was getting.
You placed your hands on his hot body again, and felt him shudder and squeeze your breasts gently in response. You let your hands feel their way from his navel to his collarbone before you leaned into him, stood on your tiptoes, and placed a gentle kiss into the broad V that was formed at the base of his neck.
Kurosh’s sweet purr beneath his breathing became a rougher growl, and he squeezed your breasts a little harder.
He must’ve liked it when you did that.
Following that response, you put your hands on his shoulders and patted him, trying to get him to bend down. At first he didn’t understand, but you squatted down a tiny bit and he was forced to follow in order to keep his hands where they were.
With him now bent down in a lower position, you stood nearly face to face.
Your guess was right; he was getting absolutely fucking wrecked by all of this hot and heavy touching. Kurosh’s pupils were blown wide and dark, his nostrils flared open, and his ears were tucked down low, laid almost horizontally down back alongside his head. He was panting and pink-faced; tiny glittering beads of sweat was forming on his forehead and trailing down his thick neck.
You ran your hands across his face, gently tracing your way across his soft cheeks, his black eyebrows, his smooth skin... you stopped at one of his big ivory tusks.
His eyes curiously followed yours as you pondered the second most obviously Orcish thing about his his face (the first one being that he was, you know, bright fucking green). He wanted to see and read your reaction to it.
You hesitated for a moment, not knowing if they were sharp on any edges other than the very tips. Very gently, you plunged a soft fingertip into the corner of his mouth, feeling for the base of his broad tusk at his gums, finding it and feeling around the base.
You then encircled it with two fingers, and tenderly ran both digits up alongside the long tusk, feeling its dry, slightly rough, raised surface and pleasingly warm temperature. Your fingers met in a pinch point at the very tip, and you felt how very needle sharp it was.
You made a mental point to be very careful with those pointed tusk tips; those things were not joking around and could actually seriously hurt you.
You wondered for a moment what purpose they served, since male Orcs always had notably larger, thicker, and more wickedly curved tusks than the females.
You’d never put much thought into the sexual dimorphism traits of Orcish physiology, until you were getting hot and heavy with one. A little late now to run that question through Google Scholar, you guessed.
Kurosh looked intoxicated and unsteady, his hands still absentmindedly milking both of your breasts with his hands. His sparkling eyes were half open and dreamy.
You studied the details of his face at close range for a few brief moments, before you leaned in and pressed your warm lips to his in a tender kiss. He tasted like the tang of salty sweat and the sweetness of root beer, and his plump moss-colored lips were just as soft as you had imagined them to be. You then closed your eyes and let your mouth explore his.
Kurosh panted roughly against your mouth; you could feel his whole body stiffen when you leaned into him and locked your lips with his. His desperate, heavy panting however provided an opportunity for you to slip your tongue into his mouth...
You suddenly felt his entire body lurch forward and engulf you into his, as your tongue slid into his open mouth.
Ok, he must've REALLY liked that.
You swirled your tongue around inside his mouth, feeling his teeth (he had both flat molars, humanlike incisors, and sharp, pointed canine teeth, your stupidly helpful scientist’s brain noted), his soft, wet, textured tongue, and the vaulted, ridged roof of his mouth. You stroked his tongue with yours, letting him feel himself a really good preview of the things that it was capable of doing.
Kurosh held you against his body as he suddenly pushed you up against the back wall. At first you could feel his tongue nervously exploring yours inside his mouth, but then abruptly, he poked it deep into your mouth right between your teeth, in an obvious imitation of what you had done to him.
His broad, wet tongue was fucking huge, and it filled your entire mouth. If he’d had a mind to, he could have stuck his big tongue halfway down your damn neck but didn’t.
Instead he tried to imitate all of the delicate, sensual movements that you had made inside his mouth, but due to the massive size difference between your mouths and tongues, he simply succeeded in nearly gagging you with it.
You got the very distinct feeling that he was a novice at the art of French kissing. Maybe this just wasn’t something Orcs did much, or at all. Maybe it was just that Kurosh as an individual had no idea what the hell he was doing.
You wrenched your head back away from his to cough repeatedly, which caused his overly-large tongue to retreat as well, but a moment later you recovered and swooped in again between his tusks for another furious round of tonsil hockey.
Gratefully, Kurosh didn’t attempt to reciprocate your tongue work this time. However, you definitely noticed that he was starting to lose his composure the farther you two went.
His heavy body ground itself up against you, hands roaming freely around your face, hair, and upper body while you aggressively worked his mouth over. The big Orc’s breath was raw and ragged, and you noticed that he had started to softly thrust and grind his lower body against yours.
Heat melted your legs, and your breathing became just as rough to match his. Your thighs had started to slide open to allow him to rub the core of his big body ever deeper against you. Like it or not, you too were falling apart underneath him.
And you fucking loved it.
You loved watching this handsome young man come undone and straight lose himself in your arms. You loved the little pleased grunts he made, the way his hands and body shook when you touched him, the timid way he first touched you, the taste of his soft lips.
It turned you on to see him so into you, and so into this... whatever this thing was that you two were doing and had so swiftly developed for each other.
The music playing in the background was reaching a furious conclusion; the audience was roaring and losing their shit. You secretly imagined that they were cheering you on.
Suddenly, you realized that you could feel an unreasonably large and very hard bulge up in the front of his denim jeans that he was rather pleasurably grinding against your crotch and abdomen.
He made no effort to hide its presence from you either; Kurosh’s sweet, polite, somewhat timid demeanor was giving way to a rough, instinctual, animal drive that sent shudders through your body… which he then felt.
Encouraged by your light shudders of pleasure, the big Orc pressed himself much more firmly up against your body, grinding himself with increasingly intense thrusts into you. Whatever he was hiding down there should’ve been classified as a weapon; it felt as big around and at least as long as your lower arm, pressed up high against the crotch of your pants. Only the thin fabric of both of your jeans and underwear were blocking you two from going further, but if this kept up much longer even those wouldn’t stop the inevitable...
You realized what this was going to lead to in a few minutes. Where you both very clearly wanted it to lead.
Were you going to let this happen?... were you just going to let Kurosh Ironblood - the Orc - fuck you? Here?
You wanted to. Sweet mother of all that was holy, you so, SO wanted to.
You wanted to unzip his pants right there and let that big handsome Orc give you all he’s got (which looked like a whole hell of a lot, given the utterly titanic size of the hot rod that he was rocking in the front of his jeans). You wanted to see if he would fit inside you, and if he could, if you would even be able to walk right the next day. You wanted to see what his fully hard dick looked like, how big it really was, and you wanted to see the look on his face when you touched it. You wanted to tie his big green arms up to your bedposts and ride him all night long, all the while hearing him scream out your name to a soundtrack of heavy metal music.
But... you were scared.
Not of him of course… but of prison.
Making out like this with Kurosh was enough to warrant a misdemeanor arrest. You’d already gone that far with him for sure.
However actually fucking him was straight up jail time though. Any sexual contact with an Orc was a serious felony crime. Years of jail time. They did not mess around with handing out harsh sentences for miscegenation.
That unfortunate truth was exactly what you faced... if you were caught, that was.
Everything is legal if you don’t get caught, however.
A nearby loud slam of a door that you didn’t know existed until now drove that last point home quite well, and with a new vengeance.
You both froze in place, terror pounding in your hearts as two armed security officers walked past your little light shaft, paused for an eternity or ten... and gratefully kept right on going.
Panic was writ bold on both of your half-naked faces; you both exhaled a soft puff of relief when the officers moved on. There would have been no explanation to have been offered for your half-naked, flushed-faced, giant boner-ridden selves but the truth... which was that you were a human chick who was doing some serious making out and heavy petting with a nearly eight-foot tall adult male Orc dude during a rock show.
Jesus that was close. Too close.
You couldn’t go back to either of your houses - you’d be caught by a neighbor or a roommate or a dog walker or a stupid Uber driver for sure. You couldn’t park somewhere to have your fun without risking a knock on the window by a nosy police officer or lot security.
There was only one place in the world that you could think of where nobody was going to harass you two... and that’s because there was nobody there.
You leaned your lips into his warm ear. “Kurosh, I want you to come with me on a drive out into the country, tonight. Right now. Let’s get away from all of these people… and have some time alone together.”
He nodded, absolutely scared shitless, but still hot, sweaty, and breathy. “I’ll go anywhere you want... just as long as it’s with you.”
After a few more nervous moments of holding each other and gentle, needy kisses, you broke from your embrace and put your clothes back on.
Realizing that Kurosh was still sans shirt, you darted out to the swag booth and bought a new shirt for him, who quickly put it on.
Your plan was to go out to your truck and wait in the parking lot, and a few minutes later, Kurosh would come out alone and hop in with you. You had to exit separately to avoid suspicion.
About twenty minutes later, Kurosh had slipped into the rear passenger door of your crew cab truck and laid himself across the entire back seat. You chucked a thick blanket over top of him in case a semi-truck driver peered in and saw him. It would have been kinda hard to explain why you – a human female - were driving down the freeway at ass O’clock at night with a great big Orc dude hiding out in the backseat of your truck.
You drove all night long. The secret spot that you were heading to was easily some six hours out, which was intentionally in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. When you stopped to get gas, you made Kurosh hide under the blanket and you stopped at the most distant pump there. While you fueled up and peed, you ran in and bought drinks and snacks for the both of you, enough for several days.
When Kurosh needed to pee a few hours in, you pulled over and let him go on the side of a freeway, hidden by your black truck. It was the most nerve wracking piss ever taken by a living person, but nobody so much as passed by on the lonely highway while he was out of your vehicle.
You two talked the whole way there, cheerfully battling over control of the Spotify playlist and happily discussing the events of the night, your likes and dislikes, the weird smells you would encounter, you pointing out interesting roadkill (Kurosh grimaced differently each time, much to your delight), all in between Kurosh hiding himself down in the seats every time a vehicle passed. You wished he could’ve sat up front in the passenger seat so you could hear and see each other better.
As he was able to, Kurosh held your hand or touched your arm the whole time. It was as if he feared letting contact with you end; he seemed afraid that once lost, it would leave him forever.
You had no intention of letting him go either.
Whatever you and him had together was something that felt as natural as breathing, like old friends or family reuniting.
During your long hours on the road, you realized that in spite of your very different appearances and upbringings - Kurosh had lost his family very early on, and had basically grown up alone, whereas you had a very close knit four person family that you lived far away from because of the job you had - just how much you had in common.
You could both sling classic-era Simpson’s jokes at each other like professionals (you both went back and forth through the entire ‘Steamed Hams’ routine with almost no recital errors), loved similar games (you were both huge fans of the Zelda, Castlevania, Final Fantasy, Pokémon, and Super Mario series, and you both hated first person shooters because you sucked balls at them and spent more time respawning than actually playing).
You even had similar tastes in food; you both despised cilantro, crappy ‘too sweet’ frosting that hurt your teeth, anchovies, ‘circus peanut’ candies (Kurosh remarked with a scowl that they tasted like ‘clown-ass’), and onions, and you both adored coconut, any kind of meat, and Thai food.
You two were definitely cut from the same cloth, but were stuck in just about the two most different looking bodies imaginable. Your brains just seemed to automatically sync into a natural mind-meld. Hell, just hours in you two had already started being able to finish each other’s sentences.
As the miles stretched on and the laughs and silliness only grew stronger, you realized that whatever this thing that you and Kurosh had was not going to be a furious one-night stand of illicit fucking in the dark, a weekend of passion, or even a sweat-soaked, summer love fling.
Whatever this thing was that you were forming, was something much, much more.
But ugly logic crept its way into that weird space of gray Jell-O that sat between your ears. How on earth could you make this relationship work out long term, in a world that would jail you for it?
He was an Orc. You were a human. And you couldn’t hide yourselves from the whole world forever.
You needed to think hard and long about this whole thing, and make some tough decisions on what you should do next.
Just before dawn, you arrived.
The spot you picked could best be described as the ‘absolute ass end of fuck all nowhere’. The nearest town was 30 miles away and only had 200 people in it, all farmers and farm workers. The nearest freeway was nearly 50 miles away. It took thirteen miles of off road driving to even get to it in the first place.
When you finally stepped out of your truck, the stars were still out against a deep purple sky, and the air was cold and sharp.
Kurosh had been rattled a bit by the rough riding road that led in. He was sleep-deprived and groggy when he climbed out of the truck and looked around.
With a start, he realized that was on the very top of a still twilight-dark canyon, overlooking a vast cliff face that dropped down some 1,500 feet and ended in a massive talus slope.
Broken concrete pilings and old twisted rebar poked up from random places. Sagebrush, red rocks, and tumbleweeds dotted the desolate landscape, while a hollow, dry desert wind blew.
You could see for eighty miles in all directions, until the curve of the earth itself stopped you from seeing any further. Distant freeway and farmhouse lights sparsely dotted the horizon, glowing like soft white or orange stars that had fallen to earth.
Kurosh seemed confused. “Is this... it? Are you sure?”
You were busy putting up a little tent and some sleeping bags that you had gratefully forgot to take out of the bed of your truck from the last work outing you’d been on. “Huh? Oh yeah, no, this is it. Awesome, isn’t it!”
The big Orc stretched and looked around some more. He seemed uneasy. “It’s so... open. There’s nowhere for us to hide.”
You laughed. “That openness is exactly why I picked it. You can see someone coming from forty miles away out up here. This is an old radar tower base on the edge of a wildlife refuge that’s closed to all recreation purposes; nobody comes up here at all. I chose it for the same reason they did back in the day… you have plenty of notice that someone is coming and can hide or defend yourself for damn near half an hour before they can even see you’re even here.”
Kurosh thoughtfully pondered this for a few moments as he admired the panoramic dawn time view. “That... is actually pretty clever. I would have never thought about picking a super exposed spot like this as a great place to hide.”
You turned on your headlamp and put your hands on your hips. “Worked well enough for them back in the war, it should still work well enough for us today!” The small beam of white light on your head bobbled as you laughed.
Kurosh placed his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sharp glare of your headlamp. “How on earth did you even know this was here, y/n?”
You started pounding a tent spike in at the base of a four foot tall crumbling cinder block wall, as you answered him between your swings. “Huh? Oh, I do peregrine and prairie falcon nesting surveys for the state while I study for school. Because of where most falcons live, I end up getting sent to some super BFE areas to search for nest activity. Ass end of nowhere kind of places like this. There’s actually a prairie falcon eyrie about 75 feet down off the edge of that cliff face over there. It’s not active right now, because it’s still a bit too early in the season… but they’ll be here soon.”
You smirked and pointed with your hammer. “By the way, please don’t fall off the cliff, Kurosh. It’s about two hundred feet to my left. You can’t miss it in the daytime, but at night you might wander off to pee and...”
Kurosh interrupted you. “Orcs can see in the dark, y/n.”
You stopped hammering and looked up at Kurosh with surprise. “Wait... what? Really?”
You grinned evilly and saluted him with a silently raised, single middle finger and a wink.
You could hear the eyes in his big Orcish head rolling without ever viewing them. “Yes, I can see that just fine in the dark.”
Kurosh suddenly smirked back and sent you two birds in response. “The question I now have for you is... can you?”
You turned toward him with the headlamp, illuminating his twin obscene hand gestures and wide, shit-eating tusky grin. You brought your second hand up and with an over the top flourish, saluted him with that one too.
A moment later you both started laughing hysterically.
As you started hammering again, you shouted “Dillhole!”
Kurosh shouted from inside the camper shell of the truck, as he gathered up blankets and pillows. “Buttmunch!”
Another tent peg hammered in, and you started pounding a new one. “MEETEETSEE!”, you called out between swings.
“LAKE TITICACA!”, came Kurosh’s answer as he hefted a few gallon water bottles from beside the truck bed.
You both straight up lost it, laughing your asses off again.
Apparently well-memorized exclamations from old ‘Beavis and Butthead’ movies and episodes were also a thing that you two dorks had in common.
As the milky-violet of twilight began to fade into the pinky-gold of dawn, you and Kurosh had assembled your worksite tent against a concrete wall, placed your camouflaged rainfly over the tent (just in case of a rare but drenching high desert rainstorm), dug a proper latrine, packed in enough water and food for several days, and piled a number of warm wool blankets and waterproof camp pillows into the tent.
The tent fortunately was an earth-toned four person ‘family size’ worksite tent, which according to the square footage, should have been big enough to accommodate both you and Kurosh. It still was too short for him to stand up in even bent halfway over, even though you assembled it purposefully in a way to try to make it taller for him.
Family sized tents designed for humans apparently were just not made tall enough to accommodate a single nearly eight-foot tall adult male Orc.
Kurosh crawled into the tent arms first, looking very much like a giant green Winnie-the-Pooh (from that scene where he gets stuck in Rabbit’s hole home after eating too much honey). You laughed out loud as he jammed himself into the absurdly small tent door - he paused his struggling for a moment to smirk at you and flip you off, which of course made you laugh even harder - and wiggled himself into the center of the flexible fabric shelter, where he - once seated - actually had a reasonable amount of room.
He sighed, blowing his fluffy black hair up and out of his face with annoyance. “Either I’m just too damn big, or stuff is just made too damn small. I feel like a cinder block in a world of marbles.”
You poked him in the belly with a single finger, which - to your utter delight - made him giggle softly like the Pillsbury Doughboy and clutch his hands protectively over his stomach. “I think it’s a little of column A, and a lot of column B.”
Wait just a minute...
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him, and poked him lightly again in the ribs and upper belly; this evoked yet another bout of giggles and big hands raised up high and protectively over the poked spot.
“Are you... ticklish, Kurosh??”
He looked deeply offended, and dropped his green ears down low. “No, I am most definitely not-“
Smelling total bullshit on the air and just before he could get the sentence fully out of his mouth, you descended on him in an absolute torrent of tickles.
Kurosh squealed like a child and slapped his big hands around his body trying his best to defend himself, but you were much smaller and faster. As the oldest of three children, you were an absolute master in the art of unwanted, annoying tickling.
The whole tent shook violently as if an unhappy bear was trapped inside as Kurosh struggled to get away from your onslaught. Tears ran down both of his cheeks, and he laughed until he snorted and wheezed. “You ass!! Stop it! STOP IT!!”, Kurosh whined between his uncontrollable giggling, which of course you heard as ‘keep it up, you’re doing great!’.
Seeing a moment to be a turd about it, and never being one to let a turdish moment pass by untaken, you doubled your efforts. “What was that you were saying? That you’re not... “
Kurosh was screaming and pink all over with laughter. “STAAAAHHP!! OH MY GOD STOP!! YES I’M FUCKING TICKLISH!!... HOLY SHIT, YOU BETTER STOP NOW, OR I’M GONNA PEE!”
Hahahahaha, mission totally accomplished.
You finally ceased your reign of tickling terror on the poor Orc, leaving him wadded up in the fetal position on the tent floor, gasping for breath.
“YOU... are an ass!!”, Kurosh wheezed softly from within his little self-protective ball formed of his own body.
You flopped back with a satisfied smile into the pile of blankets and pillows. “Next time just admit that your big butt is ticklish right off the bat, and I might let you live.”
Kurosh sat up, his hair a fluffy, disheveled mess. He narrowed his eyes and grinned with too many big teeth showing. “You tickle me like that again and I’ll fart on you inside this little bitty tent.”
You waved a dismissive hand. “Your farts don’t scare me, I’m quite sure I’ve smelled MUCH worse. Do you know how many dead, rotting animals I’ve had to do necropsies on to get my masters in biology? You smell one water-logged month-dead osprey with a full crop of mackerel in July, you’ve smelled ‘em all.”
The tall Orc’s face scrunched up into another one of his unique grimaces again. “That’s disgusting.”
You settled back into the pillows comfortably, closing your eyes and trying to begin to sleep. “So’s your threat of crop dusting us in this tiny tent and stinking us both out. You gotta rip ass, you can take that shit outside.”
Kurosh crawled over to you and flopped into the blanket pile beside you, causing your eyes to snap open at the suddenness of his movement. “No tickling me!”, he said smiling, with a finger held before your eyes for playful emphasis.
You grabbed his pointer finger and folded it down into his fist before forcing his middle finger to raise up into an obscene gesture. “Here’s my response to that.” you purred cruelly.
Feigning offense, Kurosh scooped up your entire body into his arms and laid himself on top of you to purposefully squish you flat. You flailed about like a tiny crab being smushed under a boot, but his bulk was too great for you to even begin to move him. He started snickering as he pretended that suddenly he couldn’t move.
Oh, it was ON, green boy!
You wriggled and twisted, and eventually managed to get a hand free out from under Kurosh’s weight. You figured out about where his tender crotch should be, aimed your claw-like hand up, and grabbed at whatever was in reach...
Kurosh howled in shock and flew backwards into the tent wall as you bag-checked his nutsack.
Much more surprised by your action than actually hurt, he put both of his hands over his crotch and sat there folded up on his knees, watching you with big, scared eyes and a quivering lower lip.
“Ow!! W-why did you do that!?”, he whined piteously.
You sat up and dusted yourself off, flashing him the stink eye as you did. “Your big butt was making it so I couldn’t breathe! Don’t squish me like that!”
Kurosh looked hurt, like a giant, scolded green puppy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was hurting you... I was just playing...”
Your stink eye melted into a warm smile. “You big dork, so was I. I just wanted to get your heavy ass off of me in a hurry so I could breathe again, so I grabbed for whatever I could reach… which just happened to be your balls.”
You actually looked sorry now. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I don’t think I grabbed hard enough to have actually hurt you...”
Kurosh whispered shyly. “No, you didn’t... you just scared me. I’m not exactly fond of getting my balls hit.”
You laughed. Dudes were always so protective of their junk. Even the big green ones.
With a smile, you laid back down in the pillow and blanket pile and motioned for Kurosh to come over, which he did. He still looked rather chastised and small, even though he took up well over a quarter of the tent by himself. You cocked your head at him. “You ok, Kurosh?”
He nodded shyly. “Y-yeah.”
Your expression softened. “C’mere, let’s get some sleep. We’ve both gotta be just about ready to keel over.”
He nodded again. “I am really really tired. I can’t remember the last time I pulled an all nighter.”
You encouraged him to lay down beside you in a little ball, and you cuddled yourself up between his big, muscular forearms and broad chest. You felt so small in his warm, strong arms.
You felt him cuddling closer to you in response, and you buried your face into his wide chest.
A moment later, you were both completely fast asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted from the long drive and from the sweaty night before at the concert.
You woke up around 3pm to the shrill, tinny cries of a pair of kestrels flirting with each other high overhead in the gentle wind.
Kurosh was still fast asleep, his chin resting on top of your head. You were buried deep within the center of his warm body, and could feel his lungs inflating and deflating softly with each deep breath.
You took a moment to gently peel the top half of you up from his embrace without waking him, and you sat up and watched him as he slept.
He looked so peaceful and serene, like an enormous, moss-colored carved statue. Even deep in sleep, he smiled so sweetly that it involuntarily made you smile back. How anyone could mistreat someone like him simply because of his physical appearance baffled you.
You were a field scientist who did her own thing in life, not a politician or student of social or soft ‘people’ sciences. You were aware of course of the societal problems and discrimination issues that the Orcs faced, but only on a merely surface level. Orc racial issues had always simply been out of sight, out of mind for you, mostly because you were a human.
You knew that some asshole humans had killed Orcs back in the day merely for being Orcs, and wars had been fought over and with them, but that had been well over a hundred years ago. You had sincerely thought it was better for them in this modern age.
You had thought that they were doing pretty good for themselves these days – they could go to the same grocery stores as you, take buses with you, their children could attend the same schools as you, go to the same movie theaters that you did… until now.
Now everywhere you looked you saw it; from the fact that basic metal folding chairs and ‘family sized’ tents were not fit for someone of Kurosh’s stature, to the fact that he couldn’t come into the gas station with you to pick out his own road snacks, or sit in the front passenger seat with you without having the police called on him. If something happened to you out here, both you *and* him would be trapped out in the middle of nowhere, because Kurosh wasn’t allowed to fucking drive.
Not because he wasn’t capable – surely anyone who plays that many video games and writes complex code for a living could manage hitting the gas, steering wheel, and brakes of a car in the proper sequence – but simply because he was born a big green man with tusks.
And that idea now chapped your ass raw.
Another stupid idea of yours burned its way into your skull. And like virtually all of your stupid fucking ideas, you of course, absolutely had to act on it.
First things first - time to wake up Sleeping Beauty over here.
You leaned back into Kurosh’s arms, and positioned your face directly in front of his. Your slight movements stirred him, and just as his eyes opened, you placed a tender kiss right on his soft, warm lips.
Kurosh’s sleepy eyes flew open, an equal mix of surprise and delight writ boldly across their honest surface. He cheerfully pressed himself into the gentle kiss, cupping the back of your head with his big hands and pulling you towards him.
After a few moments, you peeled slightly away from him, but remained very close. Kurosh’s cheeks were pink. “Why good morning to you as well, y/n.” He looked dazed and dreamy, as if he couldn’t believe you were still there, and choosing to kiss him of your own accord.
You smiled back. “It’s like 3pm, silly. It’s mid-afternoon.”
Kurosh turned away from you with a smile to stretch and yawn softly into the air. In the daylight, you could see how big his mouth was when it was fully open, and exactly how many sharp teeth he had. Your mind started making random scientific observations about how he had the standard primate arrangement of incisors, canines, and molars, but how convergent evolution had selected for almost gorilla-like size and shape to all of them but his tusks, which were gigantic, and almost porcine in appearance.
You made a note to ask him about their function later. Totally cool though, you thought.
“Morning, afternoon, it’s still good whatever time it is because you’re still here.”, he said, softly, with that sweet, dreamy smile still plastered across his light green lips.
However as he had turned his body away from you to yawn and stretch, you realized something else was also up.
A bump had knocked your left thigh and knee as something unexpected had passed by, and you curiously peered in the direction that it had gone to see what it was. It was, exactly as you had suspected it was.
Kurosh was rocking a massive, rock-hard rod of morning wood. There was absolutely no hiding it.
‘It’ was as big around as a can of spray paint and as long as your forearm. Even tucked away in his jeans, his member was huge and obvious, straining tight against his dark colored zipper fly.
Aaaanndd now he’s just caught you staring at it. Nice work.
Embarrassed, he whipped both hands over his crotch and rolled his body away from you. You could see his pointed ears flatten out alongside his head in humiliation.
“Fuck. I’m so so-sorry, y/n…”, his deep voice grumbled.
Why was he so awkward about anything downstairs? Poor guy.
You cuddled up to his back, rubbing his shoulders to soothe him. “Why should you be sorry, Kurosh? It’s just a boner, and it’s not like I’ve not seen one before, even on you. They’re just a totally normal guy thing.”
Kurosh muttered with annoyance. “Not for me it’s not.”
Alright, enough of this beating around the bush with him about this. He was hiding something, and not just his crotch.
“Why is a boner not a normal thing for you,” you inquired.
Kurosh blew a puff of warm, annoyed air out of his lips and into his hair.
“Do you have a problem with sex, Kurosh? Or is it that you have a problem with the idea of sex… with me?” you ever-so-bluntly asked.
Kurosh sighed in resignation. He knew he was going to have to tell you this at some point, but had not been looking forward to it. “No, I don’t have a problem with sex, and I definitely have no problems with sex with you. Sex however, has always had a problem with me. A big problem.”
Not exactly the response you thought you would get, but this was definitely a key to whatever it is that he’s been evasive about with you. “Go on, it’s ok. Tell me.”
Kurosh muttered softly under his breath. “Y/n, I... I have a-a... a um… thing... for human women. Only human women.”
Ok... strange, but not game-breakingly strange...
You shrugged into his back, trying not to sound as confused as you were. “What, like... a fetish for us?”
Kurosh kept his back to you and shook his head no. “No, I don’t think so. ’Fetish’ doesn’t seem like the right word for it, because it implies a preference for a thing. As if you have a sense of choice in the matter, with some just being better or more pleasurable choices for you than others.”
He continued, voice soft and whispered. “I don’t have a choice in this... whatever this ‘thing’ is. I’m just like this, and I can’t change it.”
Kurosh inhaled and went on. “I know I can’t because I’ve tried for years to change it. I’ve tried watching hours of Orcish pornography just trying to see if anything would do it for me. I’ve visited Orc dating sites and done a lot of browsing for photos and images, and went to a few Orcish strip clubs... I even once paid for what I was told was the best Orcish lap dancer in the state to dance for me.”
His voice was quiet, almost a shamed whisper. “I couldn’t feel anything for any of it. Couldn’t get hard or enjoy it at all. I just watched and was totally uninterested, like I was reading about statistics or watching some weird, kinda gross movie that everybody else just raves on and on about and loves, but I just don’t get the point of it. It does absolutely nothing for me. I can’t feel anything for women of my own kind, and it’s fucking stupid.”
Kurosh gave a weak, half-laugh. “Now, if you were to put a human woman in any of those same situations, you could use me as a fucking flagpole. Like clockwork.” He snapped his fingers loudly for emphasis.
You returned the half-laugh and hugged him closer. “Only human women?”
Kurosh snorted roughly in annoyance. “Yes, only human women. Definitely not men, human or Orc.” He half-laughed again. “Fuck, it would be SO much easier if I *was* into Orc men, to be perfectly honest. At least being a gay Orc doesn’t warrant a prison sentence. I’d just be another big gay Orc man.”
Huh. That made sense. But that begs the next question…
You hesitated for a moment to ask something from somebody who was so already obviously very uncomfortable, but then went ahead with it anyways because as in all things that required delicate social tact and grace, you were a proverbial bull in a China shop.
“Kurosh… are you still a virgin?”
And off you went, pulling the pin and chucking that big ol' verbal grenade squarely into the poor guy’s emotionally sensitive chest.
Just then you felt Kurosh meekly nodding a shy yes into your arms. “Yes, I am. I’ve never made love to anyone before. Before I met you, I’d never even kissed anyone before. I’ve never been on a date either. I’m kind of a loser in anything to do with love.” He exhaled uncomfortably, but with an added sense of relief that his deepest secrets were finally out.
You smiled gently into his hair at his honest response. No wonder he was so awkward around you.
He’s a nerdy virgin Orc code jockey guy, with a weird thing for human chicks.
Hell, he had probably overreacted to touching your boobs the night before because those WERE the first titties that he’d got to touch.
You hugged him tightly and stroked his hair lovingly. “You’re not a loser, Kurosh, you’ve got me here now. We can take this thing that we have at whatever speed you prefer. I can teach you how to do it, or we can take sex off the table for a while till you’re ready, or even entirely if you’re uncomfortable with it. I want you to be happy and comfortable with me, whatever we choose to do together.”
He squirmed in your arms, twisting to turn and face you at last. His face was still apologetic and downcast. You felt his fingers twist up into yours. “I’m sorry... I’m definitely not the sexually aggressive rockstar that you probably thought that I was last night.”
Those honey-gold eyes of his that always captivated you flicked up and locked onto yours with a downcast expression. “I’m just lonely, sad, weird, virgin… me. I’m just… me.” He exhaled loudly in defeat.
You pressed your forehead to his, and kept your eyes on his so that he could see that you were telling him the truth. You were not disappointed in anything that he had said. “And I love that you are you. You are who I like. You’re honest with me, even when it’s uncomfortable. You’re also funny, polite, sweet, cute… you’re just a big weird dork like me. And I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”
Kurosh looked up at you sheepishly. “Not even for a human version of me?”
You shook your head and smiled playfully. “Nope. I like you just the way you are, all big and green and all you. You’re just perfect to me.”
He still looked sad. “If I was a human though, we could-“
You cut him off with an abruptness that shut him up. “No. You stop that, right now. You are what you are, and I am what I am, and I like what you are. Wishing you or me was something else won’t change our reality. And I like our reality together.”
You moved a tuft of black hair out of Kurosh’s eyes and moved to meet his gaze again. “Frankly, I’m actually glad you are an Orc and not just another human guy.”
Your smile turned bright and warm. “You being what you are is helping me to see some of the things that I didn’t realize was going on right in front of my eyes. Things that I as a human, need to call out and help change.”
Kurosh peered down at you with actual confusion. “Like... what?”
Your stupid idea from before you woke him up suddenly returned to you with a furious vengeance, as a wicked smirk wrote itself boldly across your face. “…I’m going to teach you how to drive my truck today, Kurosh.”
And with that, every bit of confidence that Kurosh once had in himself just fluttered away into the warm high-desert breeze through his shocked, open-mouthed gasp.
Kurosh settled into the smooth cordura driver’s seat of your big black truck, his expression that of a condemned man standing before the executioner’s axe.
How had he let you talk him into this nonsense? Orcs don’t drive trucks!
Y/n was going to get him killed today, he just knew it. This was how he died, doing something fucking stupid. At least he’d go down the way he lived his life, he sighed in silent resignation.
You slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. You had drove your truck out to the bottom of the canyon and off into a wide, flat, firmly packed field probably two square miles wide and ten miles long. Nothing taller than a bit of slender rabbitbrush grew there, as the field was once long ago a giant paved airstrip. Its graded asphalt surface was now gravelly and rough due to the ravages of intense temperature changes, decay, and time.
Unexpectedly steel gray thunderheads were rolling in on the horizon; you could see the sheeting rain coming some thirty miles out. It would be at least another few hours before this lower elevation place would become a giant mudhole over ancient asphalt. But that gave you plenty of time to do some practicing behind the wheel.
You were excited. Kurosh was decidedly not.
You patted his right hand gently to reassure him. “You’ll be just fine, Kurosh. I’ve been driving since I was nine, and I taught my younger brother and sister how to drive. This truck is a reliable old beast and she’ll take care of you. We’ll take it real slow, ok?”
He gulped back a big knot in his throat. “I’m totally going to get us killed, y/n. I just want you to know that.”
You flicked off the darkening sky with a single raised finger and smirked defiantly. “The hell you will. My number isn’t up today, and neither is yours!” You pointed at the keys, still hanging idly in the ignition. “Crank ‘er on up, Kurosh!”
Hesitatingly and with a resigned sigh, the big Orc turned the key. The great engine rumbled to life from deep within the massive steel body of the well-loved truck. With the engine on and the electric systems engaged, you turned on your Spotify playlist and cranked up a song from the night before. You flashed a wide, toothy grin to Kurosh. “Recognize it?”
He nodded and gulped nervously again. “Yeah. This was the song that was playing when you spilled my beer on my shirt.”
You just laughed and pushed his shoulder with a closed fist. God he was so tensed up; it was like you had pushed your hand up against a goddamn immovable granite boulder. “Yep, this is the one!”
You pointed towards his right foot, and explained the basics of braking, accelerating/gas pedal, steering wheel use, and the purpose of the gear shift in a vehicle with an automatic transmission. You then had him adjust all of the mirrors to suit him, which took a bit of work.
With a smile, you indicated that he was now ready to put his right foot on the brake, and slide the gear shift out of park, which he did. “Now, gently… gennnnttly… just lightly kiss the gas pedal with your right foot.”
You subtly braced yourself - most new drivers slammed the gas pedal down hard at first.
Kurosh did as he was instructed… and the truck barely rolled forward. It might have even just been the wind blowing it forward or engine vibrations moving it.
He was still so afraid, the poor guy.
You patted his right thigh gently. “You can give it a little more gas than that, but again, just ease into it.”
You saw his thigh flex beneath his jeans, and the truck slowly rolled a teency bit faster. He was still so very tense. “You’re doing great! Give it a little more, she can take it!”
He pressed a little harder, and the truck slowly, smoothly went from 1st into 2nd gear. The miles per hour increased, one by one.
Kurosh still had his jaws clenched, his teeth gritted, and watched the world roll by with his wide, terrified eyes.
You asked him to try the brake now, and subtly braced for a hard slam… which never happened. Kurosh eased down on the brake so softly that the dust barely stirred as the truck rolled smoothly to a stop.
You flashed him a playfully suspicious look as you flipped some loose hair out of your face. “You suuuurre you’ve never drove a truck before? You’re REALLY good for a beginner. Most new drivers are all rough with the gas and brakes and try their best to launch me through the windshield.”
Kurosh finally exhaled, releasing just a tiny bit of the tension built up in his shoulders. You noticed tiny dots of sweat beading up on his big green forehead. “N-no, I swear I haven’t. I’m just so afraid of getting us killed.”
You patted him again. “You won’t! Trust me. Play with the gas and brakes a little bit, and try turning.”
Kurosh sighed. He was not a happy Orc.
For the next two hours, you gently encouraged him and helped him practice driving. He cautiously pressed the gas at different speeds, tested the brakes, parked, backed up, turned the lights and engine on and off, and drove wide slow donuts in both forward and reverse around the old airfield.
As he practiced, you could slowly see joy beginning to eke out a claim on his tense, taut green face. Kurosh had started to enjoy himself the longer he puttered around in the truck.
Now you wanted to teach him how to love it... and you knew just exactly how.
You had him drive to the far end of the field and aim the broad square nose of the truck out towards the long stretch of dust and nothing before you.
You cranked the up tunes as the truck idled in the dust. Then, with a raucous laugh and a closed fist thrust forward to the thunderous sound of the thrashing metal anthem belting out through the speakers, you told him to stomp the gas really fucking hard.
Kurosh drew his bottom lip into his mouth, furrowed his black eyebrows down… and gunned it.
All eight cylinders roared to fiery life as the big truck flew forward from its standing spot like a hellbound, two-ton steel missile.
You cheered and rolled down your window, shouting out to the wind and storm as you threw your right fist defiantly at the world.
Kurosh’s face blew wide into a gigantic smile, and then as the engine growled ever louder, rolled down his window and also roared his joy out into the sky with you. You saw him throw his big green left fist into the air and shake it with happiness as he rocketed down the decrepit old airstrip.
You glanced over to Kurosh for a second; your mind seeing your fast-forward world in snapshots and slow motion.
Kurosh was lost in childlike ecstatic abandon, reveling for the first time in the sense of personal freedom that only fast vehicles and open roads can give. His wide toothy mouth was open, shouting out into the dust and wind, big pale tusks thrust forward towards the steering wheel that he gripped with his heavy green right hand.
Just then his golden-brown eyes flicked to yours, all the earlier tension and fear was gone from them, replaced by the sparkle of innocent pleasure and the happy smile lines of utter delight. The rushing wind was pulling the tears from his eyes in long silvery streaks and away into his long locks of fluttering black hair.
That rare look of freedom and bliss; that was the look that you loved to see the most on him (although you’d only seen it once before in the circle pit). This look of unabashed utter joy was the expression that this sweet, sensitive man most deserved to wear most of all.
You knew then and there that you would give absolutely anything and everything you had to see him as just happy as this he was in this moment.
Just then, as the wind whipped your hair around your face in a violent, speed-fed whorl, you realized with a clarifying jolt of electricity the true name of the feeling that had developed inside of you, but had yet to find the right words for.
The correct name of the ‘thing’ that you had for Kurosh was… love.
You were in love with Kurosh.
The distant thunder rolled its mighty approval; the sky’s blessing was audible over even the rush of wind, the sound of rough rubber on gravel outside, and the vigorous pounding of your own heart.
As you neared the end of the runway your world sped up to full speed again, and you motioned for Kurosh to slow the truck as you rolled up the windows.
Gently as ever, the mighty vehicle rolled to a gentle stop; a tiny puff of dust rose up from the hood for a single moment, before a great dust storm that churned up from the truck’s now stationary rear wheels finally caught up with you, swallowing everything in a cloud of ultra-fine chalky-white particles.
Kurosh pounded the wheel excitedly with both of his big closed fists, like an overly stimulated kindergartner. His hair flopped around like a happy mop of black feathers as he turned to you with a wide, breathless, open mouthed smile.
“FUCK YEAH! That was fucking AWESOME! Did you see how fast I was going, holy SHIT!!” Even his wide nostrils were flared open with happy adrenaline.
He was now hooked forever on the accelerator and powerful engines.
Suddenly he looked at you with pleading eyes… you knew what he was going to ask before he could even spit out the words.
An evil smile cracked your face in two. “Kurosh… I want you to turn this rig around, right now… and fucking GUN IT.”
The big Orc pumped his fist triumphantly and shouted another “FUCK YEAH!” before he ripped the wheel around in a wide donut and launched you both into low altitude attack pattern directly towards the oncoming thunderstorm.
After another five or six violently fast trips whipping back and forth across the old decayed airstrip, the rain began to fall. It fell slowly at first and in tiny spitting drops, then suddenly, the sky opened up in an absolute deluge from above.
You had Kurosh turn on the windshield wipers and switch the truck into 4x4 drive, before you cautiously had him get onto the long, rough road that led up to your campsite.
As carefully as ever, he crept his way up the trail. He seemed to have almost a natural sense of how to maneuver the wide, heavy vehicle across the rutted, rocky path.
Rain pummeled the ground, slicking its already unstable surface further. You could feel the knobby off road tires grip and slip on stones occasionally, but so far so good.
As conditions got uglier and the elevation higher, you asked Kurosh if he wanted to switch out and let you drive. He said that he still felt that he could make it, and promised that the moment that he felt uncertain that he’d hand the wheel back over to you.
For whatever reason, you chose to trust his judgment.
Not two minutes later, the rear right wheel suddenly dislodged a huge stone and sent a large section of the muddy trail tumbling down the steep canyon wall. The rear axle slammed hard against the freshly exposed rock face, leaving your right tire freespinning helplessly in the air, and your vehicle balancing precariously with only three tires gripping the earth. The trail you were on was easily a thousand feet up, and below rested eons of crumbled, rust-colored, sharp talus rocks and certain death.
At your weird angle and nearly hanging over the cliff yourself, you could no longer safely get out of the truck to switch drivers. Opening your door would have led to your feet hanging directly over a straight down vertical cliff face.
Kurosh glanced at you nervously, and chewed his lower lip. “Fuck. We’re really fucked now, aren’t we.”
You peered out the window to the gravity-assisted death awaiting you outside. “Holy shit, that’s a loooonng way down.” Nausea tickled your guts as the ground seemed to zoom swiftly away, rushing ever farther and farther away from you.
You looked back over to Kurosh; his hands were starting to grip the wheel to the point that his knuckles were turning pale. If he panicked in the driver’s seat, you were done. Straight up, down the cliff, hard stop at the end, fucking DONE.
Drawing upon whatever bit of inner badassery that you could for him, you faked that you were not scared absolutely shitless, and gave him the coolest and most collected smile that you could muster. “Nah, you’ve totally got this. You’re a natural. I trust you.”
By all that is holy, you hoped to fuck you were right.
What you actually wanted to do was panic, totally lose your shit, and throw up all over the floorboards at the same time.
Intensity built in your eyes, and you patted his right thigh reassuringly. “Gently… GENTLY... give ‘er gas. Don’t just gun it and skid out on those wet rocks, just gennnntttly pull ‘er up and out of that hole, and back up onto the trail. Do everything super gently, and do NOT stop until we are totally out.”
Whatever inner strength you had summoned up must’ve transferred into Kurosh through your touch, because in the next few seconds the truck smoothly hauled itself up out of the hole with a loud, spine-jarring ker-thunk, and back firmly onto the trail. A few more minutes of slow, steady climbing and you were back on the firm flat canyon top that used to be the concrete slab base of a radar tower.
Kurosh quietly put the truck in park, pulled the e-brake, cut the engine, and unbuckled himself, exactly in the same order that you’d taught him to.
Rain continued to fall in deafening sheets and thunder rolled. Thin trails of hot steam rose from the engine block around the edges of the hood, and faded off into the rapidly darkening sky.
You both sat there for a silent moment, wide eyed, adrenaline-soaked, scared, elated… then, you slowly turned to each other.
Holy shit. You almost died.
But your boisterous claim from earlier in the afternoon had held true… your number apparently wasn’t up today, and neither was Kurosh’s.
Kurosh hadn’t panicked as you had feared he might, and as new as he was to driving, his cautious, gentle nature was exactly what you had needed in that moment of terror.
You weren’t sure that even you could’ve done as well as he had done in that moment, with all of the adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins. The first slipped rock under the tires would have scared the shit out of you and made you stomp the gas, which in turn would have had the tires tear up the fragile, muddy trail in a panicked attempt to get to safety; all of your fast and furious efforts to escape would’ve only sent you falling straight down to your doom.
But he had trusted you, and you had trusted him.
And somehow you had both survived.
Without a word, you jumped out of the truck into the driving rain, ran around to the driver’s side and flung open the door. You grabbed Kurosh out by the collar, yanking him bodily out of his seat and slammed him up against the side of the vehicle with a strength that you didn’t know you had.
His golden-brown eyes were thrown wide with panic and his long legs awkwardly collapsed under his body in wordless fear that you were going to unload absolute holy hell on him for not switching out drivers with you when you had suggested it.
Rain soaked his raven-colored hair flat to his head in seconds; his mouth moved once as if to begin to plead his case to you, but suddenly he thought better of it. He still held your keys in his right hand, and gingerly offered them up to you in an obvious gesture of appeasement.
Water beaded up on his emerald green skin, collected together, and trailed down in thin rivulets into his one-day-old band shirt.
With no forewarning, you smashed your rain-drenched face into his, enveloping his entire body with yours as you put every ounce of adrenaline that you had inside you into an extraordinarily violent, passionate kiss.
You shook from the intensity that was churning within your chest, and you wanted him to feel it too, all the way down to his goddamned toes.
Kurosh’s eyes flew open; the poor guy was entirely caught off guard by your kiss, in particular at all of the unexpected passion and rage behind it. He had been panicking, thinking you were furious with him; this had absolutely not been the response that he had ever expected to happen next.
The emotionally confused young man sat frozen still while you worked his mouth over, his brain temporarily too short-circuited to move or even react to what you were doing.
After a solid minute, you finally ended your assault of a kiss upon the confused, terrified face of Kurosh. When you did pull yourself off of his mouth you simply stood there, both fists bound tightly at his black shirt collar, your breath panting away in steamy wisps.
Kurosh blinked up at you through the rain with the most perplexed expression that you had ever seen on the face of another person. His thick legs were folded beneath him awkwardly in the mud and rain, his right hand still weakly held your truck keys within them.
The ‘bing!’ of the door chime to your truck still sounded plaintively in the storm, pleading for someone to close it and save the interior from further water damage.
You stood there over the collapsed form of Kurosh, completely silent, chest still heaving with fury and pent up energy, hair completely drenched and hanging low in your eyes. Even your hands were shaking like leaves at his shirt collar. You blinked hard in the driving rain, but kept your focus on those beautiful, golden-brown eyes.
“I love you, Kurosh.”
Thunder rolled distantly. The pattering sound of rainfall was melting into a continuous hiss.
You had done it. Your near-death experience had finally built up enough fire in your belly to tell Kurosh the newly-discovered true name of how you felt about him. The demon of truth had been released out into the air with your words, never to return to its former prison… for better or for worse.
A splash nearby followed by the tell-tale tinkle of metal on rock indicated that your truck keys had been dropped. Just then you felt two big hands reach up to your shoulders, grasp them firmly, and pull you downwards. Even through the cold rain, the emerald-colored skin of his soft palms was as warm to the touch as a sun-kissed stone.
Kurosh pulled you onto the center of his torso so that you sat roughly nose to nose with him. He delicately moved a few sopping wet strands of hair away from your cheeks and nose, moving them as if they were fragile strings of handspun gold.
A nearby crack of lightning illuminated you from behind with the ghostly white-violet flash of a plasma arc.
To Kurosh's eyes, the pale, eerie glow of the lighting strike made you look like a vengeful angel standing before him; a living embodiment of heaven’s terrifying beauty and wrath come to earth, your form remaining but for a precious moment on earth in his arms.
Kurosh’s broad, warm fingers carefully traced out the shape of your cheeks and lips. He was entranced by your dark, adrenaline-soaked eyes that seemed to bore down into his very soul. You could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, and his mighty heart pounding away in broad chest beneath you.
His eyes relished the view he beheld; the lustful, hungry look etched across your face, the wet locks that dropped fat silver pearls of rain onto his chest, the sparks of fire that danced in your glittering eyes just for him. He had been denied so much and waited for so long just to find you, to hear those words spoken on your lips and to see you looking back at him with such passion in your eyes.
The young Orc man savored these precious moments, letting them burn the mark of their memories forever into him with all of the deadly intensity of a sun, and consume his heart in its flames as they did so.
Gently, you felt his entire hand cup your face in his soft, wide palm and pull you towards him. His cheeks were flushed warm and pink, and his long, wet black hair shone in the reflected lightning strikes like shards of obsidian glass.
“I love you too, y/n.”, he whispered back to you, his deep, velvety voice barely audible over the sounds of the driving rain.
He meant those words with every fiber of his being; his honest eyes could not lie, and nor would he wish them to if he could.
He truly loved you as much as you loved him.
Slowly, Kurosh curled himself up to you and tenderly pressed his lips to yours. So gentle was the feathery touch of his soft lips, that you could scarcely tell it from the falling drops from the sky, save for the heat that came from his body through them. Kurosh wanted to take his time, to show you just how much he loved and cared for you through sweet, delicate kisses in the rain.
You however, were dripping with white-hot adrenaline. You were way past all this sweet fluffy stuff.
You were a forest fire in a matchbox, an incendiary bomb, a deadly ordinance strike from above that wanted only to rend and tear the dark earth asunder from the sky with your deadly fury.
What you wanted to do was to hear Kurosh screaming out your name while you set him absolutely fucking ablaze in the storm.
Adjusting yourself so that you straddled his middle, you placed your hands on either side of his cheeks and pushed yourself into his mouth, changing the intensity of the sweet kiss that you were sharing from tender and loving to violent and hungry.
Lucky for you, your message came through rather loud and clear to Kurosh.
The rain fell in punishing torrents as you ran your fingers through his soaked hair, while his mouth worked itself faster and needier against yours. His lips moved down from your mouth and found the base of your neck, and you closed your eyes to appreciate the sensations.
You lifted your face and mouth upwards towards the deluge from the heavens. The cold shower of rain did absolutely nothing to quench your fire, if anything you just burned even hotter just to spite its feeble attempts to extinguish you.
Kurosh’s sinfully soft, plush lips tenderly plucked a scorching line of electric kisses down the curve of your rain-slicked neck, and you craned yourself into them, wordlessly pleading him for more. Without meaning to, you involuntarily let out a small squeak of pleasure at his kisses, which made him delicately scrape the points of his teeth against your skin in response.
Emboldened by your little sounds, Kurosh buried his mouth against the nape of your wet neck and groaned deeply; his growl was a low resonant purr of a sound, which was both needy, primal, and animalistic all at once.
The dark, delicious sound and the vibration of his throat pressed up against the skin of your neck made you gasp for air. You felt his hands grip you tighter, and pull you even closer against himself. The pounding pulse in the big knot of veins and arteries in his neck beat a rhythm all its own up against yours.
Slipping a hand beneath his completely soaked shirt, you kneaded the muscles and skin of his chest with your strong fingers. You ran your fingertips from the broad ‘V’ formed by his collarbones down to the top of his ribs, then pressed your hands flat and rubbed them up along his sides.
A huff of warmth across your neck and a sensual rumble rising from inside his throat told you that he had definitely liked that.
You could see that your fire was now spreading; the intense, hungry flames churning inside of you had ignited in Kurosh as well… and now he was all but begging for you to light him up.
You were of course, only more than happy to.
Abruptly pulling yourself from his grip, you snapped forward towards his broad, meaty green neck and you sank your teeth firmly into the sensitive spot of skin located between his earlobes and nape.
It was just barely enough to break the skin and produce a couple of tiny scarlet pinpricks of blood that oozed like crimson beads from his green skin. Your bite was of course was not enough to actually hurt him, but it was enough to nip him pretty damn good.
You wanted to let him know that you absolutely meant business, and that business was that you wanted to fuck the brains right out of his handsome green head.
Without warning, two very big hands suddenly snatched you up rather roughly. They lifted and whirled your body around, and slammed you into the side of the truck hard enough to make it rock slightly. The impact knocked most of the air out of your lungs – then a second force hit your entire upper body, knocking the rest of it out in a shocked wheeze of a gasp.
Slightly dazed, you became aware that the second force was now lifting you very high up, smearing the back of your wet body across the smooth metal of your truck, and furiously pressing itself into you and huffing in low, ragged noises.
Hot breath collected under your chin as your head was forced upwards to the storm and sky; suddenly you felt the slick points of many teeth pressing into the tender skin of your throat… as in your entire throat from ear to ear. Gently, but with a powerfully firm, even pressure they held you… just exactly like what you had done to Kurosh, but without the blood.
Four particularly sharp points that were separated into pairs and set nearly a foot across from each other pricked at the sides of your head and neck. One set was poking you at the nape of your neck, right near the base of your skull, the other set was lower, and digging rather painfully into your bottom of your neck, sort of near where your left shoulder began on your back. The lower one was definitely making a small open wound in your skin.
The weird grip of the sharp points adjusted themselves, fidgeting about and repositioning several times as if not quite correctly placed for whatever purpose they were being used for. After a few tries, the points and firm pressure returned again, this time in a way that wasn’t causing you injury, but that still kept you held fast in place.
As soon as the points were satisfactorily placed (you had no idea if they were or not to be honest, but guessed it from the further lack of readjustments), a large set of very warm, very soft, and very familiar hands roamed freely across your captive body. A heavy weight began violently thrusting and grinding itself against yours in an unmistakably sexual way, despite the fact that all of your clothes were still on.
And that was the terrifying moment when you realized just exactly what those big tusks were used for.
In spite of their fearsome, warlike appearance and needle-sharp points, they actually weren’t weapons at all.
They were used for holding onto a mate during sexual interactions.
You shuddered with titillation with this interesting little discovery. Startlingly, you also realized exactly what you must’ve inadvertently signaled to Kurosh with your cute little neck noshing nonsense from a few moments ago.
You realized that by biting him, you had basically told him to cut the cute sweet crap and fuck you. Rough and ugly, right now, you better stuff that D in my V and get to bumping uglies, NOW.
From your position – back pressed against your truck, arms pinned to your sides, legs hanging down not touching the ground, and face forced to aim skyward because your entire fucking neck was being held inside Kurosh’s giant mouth and big tusks - you realized that not only could he do anything that he wanted to you if he so desired, and there would be fuck-all nothing that you could do about it. In addition to that, that he could now totally kill you with a single, hard bite.
Those big-ass tusks of his were plenty sharp and long enough to pierce your neck from left to right, and come out on the other side. Your fragile carotid arteries wouldn’t stand a chance against six inches of razor-sharp, ivory mouth-daggers.
You were totally helpless and left entirely to his will as to whether or not he bit down and ended your life.
In the weirdly detached, scientific way that your brain worked, you considered whether or not that this strange sexual ritual had evolved to display the male’s level of discipline and control to the female. A male who had no self-control would accidentally kill his mate and not produce progeny, therefore continuously self-selecting for males who could control themselves during the act of mating.
You of course would have to read up on the topic later.
…But for now, you had literally never been more turned on than you were right now, helplessly sandwiched as you were between two tons of rain-slicked truck, three-to-four hundred pounds of very horny male Orc, and your neck balanced precariously between life and death inside of the largest set of teeth that you had ever seen in a living humanoid.
Helpful reminder notice from your brain: The owner of the big teeth that now held your life delicately between his canines and bicuspids was also a sexually inexperienced individual.
You said a silent prayer to Darwin that all of Kurosh’s male ancestors had been absolutely zen fucking masters in the art of self-control.
However, before you could discover if they had passed on all of their good-at-not-killing-your-mate genes to their offspring, lightning suddenly struck a rock formation on the canyon wall about a thousand feet away. The report from the blinding white-purple blast deafened you and startled Kurosh into a loud shout, which forced him to drop you out of his toothy, sexy-time grip.
As he released you and flinched back, you fell a foot downward off the truck to land on your feet in a shallow puddle with a splash.
The lightning strike provided a useful safety reminder that you were 1. on top of the highest point for miles around – the top of a canyon with a high iron content in its rusty red stones – 2. pressed up against a large metal vehicle, and 3. standing in gallons and gallons of water.
Kurosh was still panting hard and absolutely sopping wet. He had the weirdest look on his face though, one you did not expect after the events of the last minute or two. You expected him to look startled or excited, but instead you saw a distinctly broken-hearted and resigned expression in his eyes.
He must’ve really been looking forward to his first shag session, you guessed with a confused half-smile.
Turning from Kurosh, you glanced at the still weirdly orange-hot glowing spot where the lightning had struck the rock formation, and decided that you both were no longer safe where you currently were standing... and nor was your current sleeping quarters either.
The tent you had was designed for rainstorms, but not electrical storms. If lightning struck your little tent, you’d both be fried like chicken against the water-saturated desert soil.
What you needed was good insulation between you and the ground in the event of a strike… and the best insulation that you had up here was the thick rubber tires of your truck.
You sighed. Things were about to become very cozy tonight.
Kurosh should be very happy about this, since he still looked pretty droopy about his massive electrical cockblock from the sky.
You motioned to Kurosh to follow, slammed your still-chiming driver’s side door shut, ran down to the tent and grabbed all your blankets and pillows inside, chucked them into his arms, zipped the tent back up, ran back up to the truck and threw open the tailgate and camper shell door, while Kurosh threw all of the bedstuffs inside.
Suddenly a bolt of cloud-to-cloud lightning burst bright overhead, lighting up the sky and the undersides of the black clouds like a blast of white laser light from the heavens. The bitter smell of ozone and ambient electricity in the air raised all the tiny hairs on your arms up on end. The situation was getting more dangerous by the moment.
However you had one final thing to do before you could rest in relative safety. You opened the rear seat doors of your truck and pointed at it, as you shouted to Kurosh. “Take all of your wet shit off and throw it in here, or we’ll have to be wet along with them all night long! There’s not enough room back there for a pile of wet clothes, the blankets, and us too!”
Without a single fuck given to modesty, you then stripped completely buck-ass naked and threw all of your clothing and your boots into your truck.
As you turned to run to the truck bed, you saw a quick flash of green chuck a bundle of soggy boots and clothes past you, and dive into the back of the truck with a low bounce of the off-road suspension.
Huh. Looks like you were correct about him being green everywhere.
You quickly flung yourself into the bed of the truck, pulled the tailgate up and the rear glass of the camper shell down, and locked it from the inside.
Your truck bed was nice and dry, if a bit snug; the floor was a thick, gray all-weather marine carpeting and covered securely on all sides with a heavy black fiberglass camper shell. It definitely wasn’t as comfortable as the tent though due to its four foot height and eight foot long length, but in a severe thunderstorm like this, it would have to do. Safety over comfort, every time.
You looked over at Kurosh, currently stuffed into the back of the truck and holding a pillow over his naked dude-parts. His pointed ears were drooped low into his sopping wet hair. He looked a bit nervous and distressed… and very green.
You chuckled quietly at the unusual sight before your eyes.
It was rather easy for you to forget that he was such a very physically different looking person than yourself… when he was fully clothed that was.
Totally starkers though, he was so… green. So very, VERY green.
His lighter-colored palms matched the soles of his wide feet, which ended in light-colored, neatly-trimmed human-shaped toenails. A thin smattering of straight black leg hair lightly covered his muscular thighs and calves in a dark fuzz. His pudgy spring-green belly hid itself behind the pillow that he held in his naturally ripped-looking forearms.
His golden-brown eyes followed yours with a look of deep concern, disappointment, and worry, as another loud peal of thunder rolled ominously nearby.
All of his scary/hot neck-chomping toothiness from a minute before aside, you remembered that this was what he was in the end: a cute, pudgy-tummied, inexperienced, loving, worried, funny, sweet, sensitive guy.
A guy who just happened to also be very green.
You smiled warmly at him, and slipped your naked, rain-chilled carcass up to his big green body. You fit your smaller form up under his arm and tucked yourself neatly against his left side.
Kurosh’s ears flicked lower, his eyes studied the rain-spattered rear glass of the truck, and he started chewing his lower lip uncomfortably.
You cocked your head. Those were all little ‘tells’ that he did when he was nervous and upset.
“What’s wrong, Kurosh? Thunderstorm bothering you?” you piped up as you turned on a small, battery operated LED lantern in the corner for light. The light was tiny, just barely enough to illuminate two feet of the truck bed; it was intended to be held in hand and used at very close range, almost like a night light.
He looked at the small blue pillow in his hands, then back to you, then back to the pillow. A deep blush marked his round cheeks as thunder rumbled ominously outside.
You eyed the pillow suspiciously. “So… what’s up with the pillow.”
He muttered softly, clearly embarrassed as his gaze returned to the pillow. “I’m naked and-.”
You laughed loudly, accidentally cutting him off in your enthusiasm to make a joke. “Well hoooooly shit!! Somebody, stop the presses!!”
His mouth drew up into a lightly-offended scowl.
“News flash Kurosh, so am I!”, you snickered softly as you gestured at your naked, exposed breasts with both hands in the clean white lantern light.
Kurosh looked away again and huffed, clearly annoyed. “Come on, y/n. I know you’re naked, but I’m also naked, and I still have a boner a-.”
You cut him off again, grinning like a fool as you extended a hand for a sarcastic handshake. “Hi, have we met? I’m y/n. Just about exactly two minutes ago, you were trying to fuck me through my clothes in the rain, and using my trachea as dental floss. You might not have recognized me because I’m...” You scuttled out from underneath his side and spread your arms wide, fully revealing your nakedness.
A crooked smirk rose across his face as he ignored your nudity. “You’re an ass, and that’s totally not what I meant...”
You lowered your arms and crawled over to sit cross-legged between his knees. “Then what did you mean, Kurosh? Because it sounds like that you are either embarrassed over having a hard-on, or you’re embarrassed about being naked around me, and I can’t decide which of those two is funnier.”
Before he could answer, you narrowed your eyes playfully at him and raised up a suspicious eyebrow. “You… you DO know how sex works, right? That you have to-”
Kurosh’s smirk suddenly blew into full on laughter. “Holy hell, y/n! You can be a total ass sometimes, and I absolutely love you for that.”
He shook his soaking wet head, still laughing hysterically as he flicked water left and right. “Y-E-S, y/n. Yes, in fact I *DO* know how sex works… which is why what I *was* saying - before you interrupted me -,” he held up two fingers for emphasis - “twice! - was that we’re both naked, I still have a boner… and my fucking wallet with my condoms in it are out there in the stupid fucking tent.”
“Oh,” came your deflated response.
Kurosh was right. You were an ass.
Nice work there, champ.
Idiotic feet-in-mouth stupidity aside, you rubbed your chin in thought and rested your elbows on his broad knees. “Well, we’ve got three choices here, I guess.”
You ticked off a count against your fingers as you went. “1. We send a man out in the cold-ass rain to risk his or her life in a dangerous electrical storm to find your wallet, 2. We go to sleep and do nothing super-sexy tonight… “ At that, you flicked your wickedly sparkling eyes up to his and whispered back, “…But that’s boring. We’re horny, stuck in the back of a truck in a storm, and in love. Let’s be real here, nobody’s choosing number 2 tonight,” which made Kurosh smile and laugh again. “…Or 3., We take our chances and rawdog it.”
He made a weirdly screwed up face at the last one. “What the hell is ‘rawdog it’. That sounds awful.”
You shrugged dismissively. “Slang term for sex without a condom.”
Kurosh’s ears drooped totally flat and his lips and pink tongue curled up in disgust. “What the fuck? Seriously? That’s a really gross name for that.”
You smirked and shrugged again. “Hey I didn’t name it that, some other asshole did! It’s just the most popular slang term for it.”
Sighing with annoyance, you continued waving a hand with feigned boredom. “Well, I don’t have any diseases or crud or anything, and I’m on the shot to avoid periods in the field so that issue is negated… And since you’re… uhhh…” - you weakly gestured to him with both hands raised – “…a new player to the game, you should be pretty damn clean yourself…”
Kurosh rolled his eyes at your cringey, awkward description of his sexual history. “Ugh. To answer you, no, I don’t have any diseases or anything else wrong with me. I’m perfectly healthy, except I’m a little bit overweight for my height.” He patted his stomach to further emphasize that last point. He then screwed up his nose again in another one of his fantastically unique ‘disgust’ faces. “Oh, and as far as whatever exactly ‘crud’ consists of, no, I’m pretty damn sure that I don’t have that either.”
You smirked a crooked smile back to him. My God he was such a cutie when he was being a sarcastic turd.
You patted his knees playfully and rocked in place. “So, option number 3?”
Kurosh sat up stiffly and flicked his ears bolt upright with immediate interest. “I’m all in.”
Stupid joke opportunity detected by your humor sensors - stupid joke response launching…
“…That’s what he said,” you quipped, adding a stupid suggestive eyebrow waggle along for the ride.
You just had to say it, didn’t you. You just HAD to.
Kurosh’s pudgy cheeks inflated into wide green spheres, straining hard against the onslaught of your stupidity… and then bust out in an explosion of raucous laughter that rocked the truck side to side. “Holy shit, bwaaaaahahahaha!!”
He grabbed you around your waist, lifted you up with one arm (!!) onto his belly, and drew you in for a big cuddly hug. He buried his face in your wet hair, and nuzzled you softly with his nose and forehead. “I freaking love you so damned much. Please don’t ever change.”
“What if I’m an ass? Will you still love me then or want me to change? ”, you shot back over a wicked grin.
Kurosh squeezed you up against his broad chest and plump, warm cheeks even tighter. “There’s no *if* involved y/n, you’re already an ass. But... you’re *my* ass. Stay that way for me, please.”
You peeled your face out from under his and perched atop his soft, pudgy belly in order to look into his eyes.
The gentle golden-brown eyes that met yours was those of a man who was gazing into the eyes of the one he loved in return. Unlike a short while earlier, he wasn’t staring back at you in a needy or lustful way, but in the real, familiar, and comfortable manner of genuine love.
And you knew that you had the same look in your eyes for him.
You traced the back of your hand across his left cheek and jaw, rolling your fingers up into his wet hair and along the graceful curve of his ear. As you moved a lock of black hair from his temple, you noticed the tiny silver thunderbolt earring in his ear and ran your fingers across its cool metal surface.
It made you smile. “Hey Kurosh.”
He tipped his head, trying to see what suddenly had your attention. “What?”
You tapped the little earring in his ear, and the similar looking ones in yours. “Look, we match.”
He placed his hands on the side of your head, and brought your heads gently together as he stroked your hair. “We do,” he whispered as he closed his eyes.
You now got the distinct impression that if given the option to do so, that Kurosh would never move from this exact spot and this exact time, ever again… even if he was folded up like a giant green origami teddy bear in an overly small, humid truck bed.
You stroked each other’s hair with your fingers for several minutes in silence, as the violent storm raged outside. You both loved this unfettered feeling of innocent, naked closeness together. The tender caresses of your loved ones’ fingers running through your hair was something that made you both feel loved on the inside and out.
Eventually though, your brain reminded you that you were horny, he still had a boner, and you both were buck naked and utterly alone in the middle of assfuck nowhere.
You decided to get things started by planting a few sweet kisses deep into Kurosh’s thick black hair. He kept his eyes closed, relishing the affection that you were giving him. You moved from kissing into his locks to kissing his forehead, his plump cheeks, the soft skin behind his ears, his cute little nose; you roamed around him freely, leaving perfect, tiny kisses all over his head and face.
You suddenly heard him groan in pleasure at your efforts; apparently Kurosh responded just as well to your tender, romantic side as he did to your aggressive, dominant side.
Or maybe he just liked everything you did to him.
Kurosh hadn’t seen anything you could do, yet.
You slid yourself off of his belly and off to his left side, then encouraged him to lay flat on his back by patting his thick green thighs to make them fold up a bit. His huge body took up virtually the entire truck bed, even laid out diagonally.
Eyeing the blue pillow that still hid his guy-parts, you glanced back at Kurosh. His dark golden eyes were fixed on you with a curious, innocent expression. He genuinely wanted to know what you were going to do next, and was definitely letting you take the wheel tonight.
You just smiled, and stroked his chest absently in little circles. “Do you still want to do this, Kurosh? It’s definitely OK if you don’t,” you whispered over the roar of the storm.
He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely yes I do. Yes!” His eagerness was freaking adorable.
You stopped drawing circles into his skin and faced him again, your face sincere and serious. “Well, since this is your first time, I want you to tell me what you would like for me to do. I want to make this special for you.”
His green cheeks blushed a dark pink in the soft lantern light. “What… what exactly are my options?” You saw the shadow of his fingers start fidgeting into the blanket underneath him. He was excited, but definitely nervous.
You laid your head on his chest and exhaled softly, trying to soothe his anxiety with closeness. “Well, we should keep it simple for your first time.” You winked playfully. “We can get more creative in our second, third, and so forth adventures.” You saw him relax a bit at the idea that you were already counting on having more than just one go at him.
He nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “That’s probably a good idea.” Suddenly he looked a bit suspicious. “What exactly does ‘simple’ entail?”
You shrugged and smirked. “Like either you on top, or me on top, whichever you prefer.”
Kurosh pondered this for a moment, then answered you. “I’d like to try me on top, you on your back, on the bottom, if that’s ok.”
You nodded. “Classic missionary works for me.”
You then twiddled your fingers together in a way that indicated your hands being tied together. “Once we get the hang of the basics, we can get a little spicier, like tying each other down, handcuffs, or whips. Props or role playing are definitely fun too, but we’ll figure out what we like together… that’s part of the fun of sex, exploring and figuring out what does it for each of us!”
Kurosh’s ears flicked straight up. He looked fearful again. “T-tied up? Handcuffs? Why would you do any of that?”
Oh, you poor sweet summer child. You had so much to teach him.
But first - let’s see what exactly what kind of toys that guy Orcs have to play with.
Instead of answering his question, you merely winked suggestively and waggled your eyebrows like the idiot that you were.
You then turned your attention to the pillow he had put over his crotch for modesty - you looked back at Kurosh for a quick moment, admired his still innocently confused expression as you flashed an evil smirk at him - and snatched that stupid pillow out from between his legs like you were a magician snatching a tablecloth out from underneath a porcelain teacup.
When you looked back to see what treasure you had uncovered, your wide eyes beheld the biggest, greenest shaft of rigid man meat that you had ever laid eyes on. Your mouth fell open wide in shock at the sight of the massive veiny cock that rose up high between his thick legs.
The impressive member stood tall and proud between his smooth emerald-green muscular thighs; a column of dark, forest green manhood some fourteen terrifying inches long and an impossible three inches wide stood before you. The head itself was between three and four inches across, and his balls were as big around as goose eggs. A well-kept cover of straight black hair covered his anatomy in the pattern typical of human males.
No wonder fucking these guys was illegal!!
That big green dick was absolutely a forbidden fruit... or perhaps it was a forbidden branch that had fallen off the goddamned tree itself.
As you gaped at the young Orc man’s imposing penis, you had no idea anymore if this was going to physically work out between you two... or if it did, that you would ever survive an onslaught from a fleshy weapon of this caliber.
Still entranced/horrified/amazed by the sight, you finally managed to squeak out your brain’s only available verbal response to the situation at hand:
Kurosh absolutely busted out laughing at your incredulous response. The gigantic penis bobbled along as his whole body convulsed in peals of boisterous laughter, making it appear to laugh at you as well. “What on earth did you expect to find under that pillow, a plate of cookies?!”
You did not break visual contact with the giant phallus. It was in fact mocking you, you were convinced of that now. “Nothing that... big. I mean... just... Holy fucking shit, Kurosh.”
You heard Kurosh huff with pleased delight at your stunned, impressed reaction to his oversized man-parts. “I’m an Orc, y/n. Just what the hell did you expect me to have down there? We aren’t small guys, anywhere.”
You could hear the thick layers of smugness in his voice. He was indeed enjoying every second of this.
You narrowed your eyes at the mathematical challenges presented by the fleshy precipice. “I’m willing to... uhh... try... to make this work... but...” You turned back to Kurosh - who as anticipated - had a broad, toothy grin fixed directly at your face.
Your confidence flagged and wavered. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was tender and so very, very much smaller.
“...Holy fuck. I mean serious?! Dude, do we even know if male Orcs can fit their business inside a female human?!”, you shouted with your hands thrown wide for added emphasis.
Kurosh nodded enthusiastically yes. “Yep, they can. Seen it many, many times on video before.”
You gave Kurosh your nastiest stink-eye as you gestured dramatically towards the size of the thing in question. “Did she fucking survive it?!”
He busted out laughing again, shaking the truck again slightly. “Yep! I’ve seen the same human women with a few different Orc guys.”
Your stink-eye suddenly doubled in its stinkiness levels. “And just where in the fresh hell have you been watching all this hot Orc-man on human-woman action? I’m fairly certain that shit is highly illegal….”
Kurosh nodded playfully, exposing too many big teeth in his wide grin again. “Oh yeah, it’s definitely big time go straight to jail kind of super illegal. I find it on the dark web, and do everything anonymously through remote server connections and route it all over the place so that the pathing is not traceable. The dark web is the place where all the Orc/human porn lives.”
You continued staring at him accusingly.
He shrugged dismissively and waved his hand around. “Like I said before, I’ve got a very specific ‘thing’ for human women, and I’m an Orc guy. In the absence of the real deal, I’ve gotta get my rocks off somehow.”
Made sense, you guessed.
But back to the issue at hand... dealing with summiting big green Mount Dickmore over here.
Kurosh’s fantasy women may have survived their encounters with their well-endowed Orcish costars, but as you looked back at the towering shaft, you were not convinced this would work at all.
But you had to try.
You gamely wrapped a hand around the massive rod, and gave it a squeeze with both hands. It was warm, nearly hot to the touch, with a silky smooth skin that slid easily over the hard internal shaft. It twitched slightly when you grabbed it.
Kurosh suddenly shut his giggling trap up and went deathly still. He watched with rapt attention, a straight slash of a mouth, and wide, starved eyes as your proportionally small human hands touched his bare naked manhood for the first time.
The peanut gallery finally quiet and at full attention, you experimentally gave the comically large cock a few solid jerks along its wide shaft. Kurosh groaned in pleasure at your handiwork, digging his fingernails into the carpet and blankets beneath him.
Nothing about it seemed particularly different from any other human penis that you’d ever seen, other than obviously its immense, titanic size and girth, and its notably different, dark green color.
Hmmm. You knew how to handle a regular sized one of these pretty damn well, let’s see if your accumulated knowledge works just as well on ol’ big boy here…
You set a gentle rhythm and began milking the enormous cock with both of your hands. It twitched happily as you worked it, and Kurosh thrust up lightly from the truck bed and into your grip.
Squeezing upward toward the big, dark, yet slightly pinkish head, you let your grip pop from the shaft to around the flared edges, then back down a few more times. You noticed beads of liquid precum building up and collecting in the slitted tip of the head as you milked him, and without a word, you flicked your tongue out and licked them away with a purposefully much-too-long of a lick.
Kurosh’s breathing was absolutely coming undone in little growls and snorts as he watched you pleasuring him with your tongue and hands.
You glanced up at the sound; he was facing you with dark, lustful eyes, and had both of his arms laid flat to the floor. His big hands were arched and turned round into knotted balls, gripping the short napped carpet fibers until his knuckles turned white. The handsome young Orc’s wide green thighs and the muscles of his abdomen quivered lightly with pleasure.
Feeling more confident that you were in at least somewhat familiar territory, you decided to play at little bit more with your shiny new three-or-four-sizes-too-big-for-you toy.
Still milking the giant shaft with both hands, you swung yourself around to kneel down between his big thighs, and put your lips on one of his large, soft balls. Ever so gently, you sucked softly against it in a sweet kiss, before stroking it with your tongue, and eventually drawing its taut, soft, round shape inside your warm, wet mouth to rub it with tenderly your tongue.
Kurosh nearly crushed your skull between his thighs at the intense sensations of you pleasuring his nuts. “Holy FUCK!”, he exclaimed, as he involuntarily thrust himself up into your hands and the air.
Note to self: He appreciates your ballwork. A lot.
Realizing that as an inexperienced virgin, Kurosh was probably not the longest lasting fellow in the world, so you stopped stroking him and carefully removed his ball from your mouth… but not before giving his sack a sweet kiss. You’d be back to mess with those big, sensitive family jewels later.
You looked back to see what your efforts had done to him: Kurosh was now a vibrating, rough breathing, green puddle of Orc. His eyes were closed, and he was facing the ceiling. He wasn’t even forming words any more, just happy little animalistic grunts and groans.
Those adorable little sounds just melted you; those were the sounds of someone who was definitely having a goddamned good time… but you knew that this was just going to get even better from here.
However, your time had come.
It was time for you to become a fucking legend, time to step up to bat and swing for the goddamned fences with the big green Louisville Slugger here.
You put your face up to his, kissed him once sweetly to get his attention and open his eyes again, and laid down on the carpeted truck bed beside him with your thighs held invitingly wide open for him.
Kurosh flipped himself over with incredible speed and eagerly positioned himself over you. His bright, glittering eyes were hungry, and each breath was fast and short. Sweat was beading up on his emerald skin and trailing away. He was clearly very excited to get to fuck you.
You helped him position himself in the right way, and took the head of his industrial-sized green penis in hand. You pressed its warm, twitching, slightly dripping tip up to your soft, wet entrance, your brain still curiously sizing up the physical geometry of the situation in your mind - and paused.
You looked up at Kurosh, whose mouth hung open revealing all of his big teeth; he was panting excitedly with blown out pupils as he looked back and forth excitedly between your face and the sight of his own dick about to penetrate its first pussy.
That was exactly what you were afraid that you’d see.
“Hey, Kurosh?”, you whispered, slight tinge of fear in your voice.
He was shaking with hot anticipation. “W-What is it, y/n?” You noticed his eyes fixed longer and longer on your nearly joined junk than your eyes.
Someone was a little too enthusiastic... and that for you at least, was dangerous. You did NOT want him to spear that big green sucker right home inside you, and permanently damage your tender internal organs… or worse.
You placed a hand on his jaw, forcing his face to look up at you. Only then did he actually see the concern and fear on your face, and his polite demeanor and typical caring attitude towards you returned.
His eyebrows bunched together in actual worry. “Are… are you OK?”
You nodded. “Yeah… I’m OK, for now. But I also want to make sure that I stay that way, too.”
With a huff of hesitant seriousness, you gestured to the spot where you were almost joined. “Look Kurosh, I’ll level with you. Your cock, quite frankly, scares the living shit out of me. It’s so damn big that I’m actually afraid that it’s going to seriously injure me inside.”
You kept your eyes focused on him, and he dared not look away from you either. “You have to be slow with that big bad boy of yours. Be gentle and be patient, or you could really hurt my body if you just go for broke on me. Oh… and if it won’t fit, please don’t try to force it on in anyways.”
You smiled shyly up at him as an unexpected blush bloomed pink across your face. “I’m not a seasoned porn star, Kurosh… and you’re… well, you’re my first Orc.” You stroked his jaw softly. “I know you’re excited, but please be good to me. I love you, and I want to survive more than one encounter with you. Promise me you’ll stop if I need you to.”
Your words reached through his hormonally driven brain fog and hit him in the heart. His sweet, golden-brown eyes met yours, and a blush kissed his pudgy baby-boy cheeks with a rosy glow. “I won’t hurt you, y/n. If we need to stop, I promise I’ll stop.”
He reached up and touched your hand tenderly with his fingertips as he closed his eyes reverently. “I love you too. Thank you for even trying to do this with me, y/n.”
You believed him, and visibly relaxed as you gave him the green light to move forward.
Kurosh took his cock back into his hand and carefully pressed the massive head against your much smaller entrance. Wet as you were, it was still like pushing the small end of a goddamn brick against a keyhole.
You reached down to assist, and lubed it up in your slickness a bit little better than what Kurosh had done. With a little more shifting around, you then angled the gigantic head up to your opening, and told Kurosh to push up into you.
The massive body of the big Orc gently - but with an ungodly amount of strength behind it - pushed himself against you. You realized with an amused snort that you were both trying to push a penis that had been designed for a different hole, into a hole designed for a totally different penis.
Kurosh however, was being surprisingly gentle and patient with the matter at hand. For well over two full minutes, you two pressed and grunted and lubed and angled and re-angled repeatedly, but to no avail.
Finally, just when you were close to giving up and just going back to jerking or sucking him off – and after a particularly painful session of strong, steady pushing on Kurosh’s part - the gigantic head somehow slipped itself in and was pushed on up inside of you.
You both looked up at each other in wide-eyed surprise that it had worked.
Now that the supersized head was in, the rest of your mission was considerably easier. Kurosh balanced himself on his hands and knees quite delicately, as he pushed himself inch by inch up into your body.
You both kept looking up at each other, and back to the task at hand, and then back to each other; you were constantly reading the feelings of your partner, and reacting to them. It comforted you to see him being so careful with your much smaller body.
Eventually however, Kurosh hit the physical blockade that was your poor, grossly overtaxed cervix. In the end, you had somehow managed to get about ten inches of him and that gigantic cockhead of his deep inside of you.
That was much better than what you had thought you were going to get in, but still less than what you had secretly hoped that you could.
You looked at Kurosh, whose excitement was visibly coming back and swallowed hard. “I think that’s as far as we can go…, “ you said with a tinge of disappointment in your voice.
Kurosh didn’t seem to care that he wasn’t getting to go balls-deep inside you; the young Orc was too damn excited and simply nodded a ‘yes’ back to you. His sweet, concerned face was shifting back into a pink-toned mess of hormones, sweat, and exhilaration. He was inside you - actually inside a woman for the first time! - and he couldn’t have possibly been any happier about that particular fact.
You relaxed a little more, and smiled at his silly virginal facial expressions of first-time excitement.
You adjusted the position of your thighs wrapped around Kurosh’s hips, and was reminded again of the unreasonably large phallic intruder that you currently had rearranging your guts. Never even in your weirdest, craziest experimentation sessions had you stuffed anything that long or that wide up you.
You also knew that no matter how gentle Kurosh was going to be about the next few minutes, you were going to be absolutely sore as fuck tomorrow.
But for now at least the discomfort of his initial penetration was fading, and in its place you felt a pleasant, satisfying tension. You were stretched tightly inside across the width and length of his massive shaft, and the tender pain of having something that big and warm fill you so completely was exquisite. You involuntarily clenched down on him in unexpected delight.
Kurosh moaned softly in response and arched his back in ecstasy as he slowly began thrusting himself back and forth inside you. He could absolutely feel it when you bore yourself down like that on his sensitive manhood, through his own movements.
You did it experimentally again, and as expected, he definitely felt it; he clenched his fingers into your shoulders and moaned again as he closed his eyes and pulled his lower lip into his mouth. You watched as the thick muscles of his square shoulders bunched up as he involuntarily thrust himself up slightly deeper inside you.
You began clenching against him in a pleasing rhythm, and in response you felt him twitching inside of you as he suddenly grabbed you around the waist with both hands mid-thrust.
Dropping his body down to press himself tighter up against yours, you felt him lift your rear up from the floor; suddenly you realized that he was sliding your entire body up and down against his cock, as he remained hunched over.
Kurosh was now fucking himself down and into you, as if he were sheathing and unsheathing a sword under his body.
You had never been fucked in such a way before; hell, you couldn’t imagine the ungodly amount of physical strength that it took to hold and move the weight of your entire body up and down like a living pocket pussy in his hands like that, only leveraged by his two giant green thighs that pulsed powerfully with each thrust.
And holy shit, it felt fucking amazing.
The added friction that he was giving you by rubbing your clit against his soft belly, plus the stretching and deep, wide thrusting of his industrial sized cock was driving you wild.
You grabbed his soft, wet black hair and pulled his head against your chest with a sharp cry of pleasure.
Kurosh said nothing but offered several grunts and ragged breathing as his response. The big Orc only increased his speed and began to furiously fuck you, driving himself slightly deeper inside of you with every delightfully painful thrust.
Suddenly you realized that you could now feel his balls softly patting against you as he grunted and pumped you around himself; somehow in the past few minutes you had stretched another inch or two around him to allow him farther in.
As he thrust himself deeper into you, you could feel that you were getting pretty close as well. You clenched him hard with your strong walls as you feet the hot, airy rise of orgasm inside of you. A breathy moan of agony and delight escaped your wet lips as Kurosh kept up his increasingly vicious pace.
The large Orc was now hammering himself into you, his mind lost to reason. Snorts and snarls and growls were the only sounds that left his throat; for a moment it sounded like you were being grudgefucked by a goddamned angry grizzly bear.
Your mental imagery was probably not too far off from the truth, except that Kurosh was significantly more handsome than any bear would be.
Without any notice, he suddenly snarled ominously alongside your face - you caught a glimpse of his vicious looking ivory tusks glinting in the dim light right beside your now fearful eyes - and he bore down on you with a new wave of intensity.
Violent, primal, instinctual; absolutely nothing about this was cuddly, loving, or romantic any more. This was just brutal, ugly fucking for the sake of fucking, and no one was in control of much of anything any more. You had never been fucked so merclilessly like this before, and the primal, needy violence of it stole the very breath away from your lungs.
Kurosh suddenly hissed a deep guttural sound that legitimately frightened the fuck out you. He abruptly pulled himself up and about halfway out of you, angling himself upwards at an unexpectedly weird angle. A second later he slammed himself back down and inside you all the way up to his hilt, pressing you down to the floor and making you scream out in pain.
His balls now rested completely flat against your warm, wet ass with each thrust, meaning that he had somehow managed to shove all of his fourteen-odd inches of big, angry Orc penis up inside of your much smaller human body.
Yep. The Jolly Green Giant was speared ALL the way up you now.
You swore that you could even see the faint impression of his stupid-sized cockhead beneath the skin near your fucking ribs and navel.
You were almost dizzy, yet somehow still alive after that little stunt. The stunning pain had only been momentary; however you vowed that when this was all over, you would get him back good for doing that to you after he swore that he wouldn’t.
Now somehow fully sheathed inside your body, Kurosh doubled his already fairly brutal efforts and started absolutely going to town on you. He mercilessly drilled you between himself and the floor, his big green body violently trying to fuck you down into the floor with each rough, ugly thrust.
He was quivering with intensity, groaning out unknown words in the sharp syllables of Orcish with each hissing, spittle-flecked, ugly breath. Hot salty sweat rolled down his body and splattered down onto your skin.
The truck itself rocked back and forth loudly with each shouted thrust that he gave; your poor off-road shocks were now complaining loudly to you about being fucked to death by a very big Orc as well.
All the sounds of the creaking truck, the wet slap of skin, the panting, and the storm, mixed in with the furious hate-fucking that Kurosh was giving you, all combined with the tight, painful, yet satisfying feeling of having your guts rearranged so deep inside by your giant green lover... you suddenly felt yourself falling through many incredible sensations that just set you ablaze all over.
The tiny hairs on your arms rose up into goosebumps, as the muscles in the fronts of your thighs tingled and shook involuntarily. You suddenly screamed out his name and dug your nails deep enough into the tender skin of his back to make him bleed.
You wanted his big green ass to feel and know exactly what all of this was doing for you.
…Your message was received VERY loud and clear.
Kurosh roared like a beast into the carpet as he pushed himself down and as deep as possible into you; abruptly his previously closed, gold-brown eyes snapped open with a predatory ferocity that made you fear that his mental stability was forever lost. His heavy head suddenly ducked low and turned to a sharp, bizarre angle as his massive jaws opened wide for your throat – only pressure and pain remained as you were forced to now face the ceiling of the truck.
In a single, swift move, he had snatched your entire neck up into his mouth, exactly as he had done outside against your truck in the rain.
This was definitely some sort of Orcish mating-hold thing.
Whatever this little toothy sexy-time ritual meant to him, you didn’t know… but what you DID know about it, was that it was ungodly HOT.
You felt his steaming wet breath against your throat, his broad tongue laving sloppily at your tender skin, the pulse of your arteries throbbing against his sharp, pointed teeth, his tusks wrapped gently around your neck in an ivory embrace; once again the deadly combination of jaw muscles and physical power held your life in the balance.
He could kill you in a moment, and you both knew it.
The helplessness, the exquisite pain, the physical stimulation, and the deadliness of it all drove you fucking wild.
The dizzying, airy, terrifying feeling of falling from the edge into the heart of a thunderstorm engulfed your entire being as you tumbled closer and closer to your demise…
Just then, your world went light and starry for a single intense moment, before shattering into pulsing waves of clenching as your muscles bore down on him in an orgasm that was so strong that the big tendons in your legs knotted up, causing your toes to twist themselves upwards into contorted knots. All of the oxygen left your body as you came in one of the most blindingly intense orgasms that you had ever had.
The powerful, clenching waves of your body suddenly squeezed Kurosh into his violent release as well. The big Orc groaned a single, plaintive, whistled cry as he hit his own orgasm.
In the split second before he began to come, you realized that his body suddenly stiffened up in a very unusual way while he suddenly drove himself firmly and solidly into you one final time. His abdomen arched up around you to bring you as close as possible, while his teeth pierced your neck in several places. Each sharp tooth had just barely enough pressure behind it to form a spot of pink or draw out a tiny fleck of red blood against your skin as you felt him release inside of you.
You then became aware of an odd pulsing sensation deep inside; as Kurosh came, you could feel him spurting inside of you, over and over again. It felt like someone had turned on a firehose in miniature inside your body.
Yet again, that probably wasn’t really that far from the truth.
What felt like a quarter liter or more of thick ejaculate filled you, its volume far greater than any load you’d ever taken before, and with enough pressure behind it that you could feel it leaving him with every pulsed squirt.
Kurosh remained locked into his bizarre, stiffly held position, up on his knees with his back arched firmly up into the ceiling of the camper shell, your neck still held tightly in his jaws and your legs wrapped around his hips as he finished blowing his immense load into you.
Just then you felt the muscles of his thighs and abdomen bear down strongly again as impossibly, yet another round of spurting left him in the form of a second wave of ejaculation… then after another ten or fifteen seconds, a third… and a fourth about twenty seconds later…
Holy fucking shit.
The big guy was just going to keep on going like this!
Hot liquid seed flowed out of you onto the floor back up against the blockade that was formed by his cock, as he just kept on going. You were both surprised and impressed by this bizarre ability/performance (?), and began considering the implications of what this held for ‘what do condoms for male Orcs look like’ (your private guess was now something along the lines of giant, dick-shaped, multi-gallon kitchen garbage bags or horse AI collection sleeves).
No wonder they needed such a big set of balls if this was the copious amount of ejaculate fluid that they had to produce each time that male Orcs had sex.
Kurosh’s spurts finally began to slow at round five, by round six you could tell that he was almost ‘out of ammunition’ and firing only a thin, trickle of liquid, and by round seven, you thought you could feel him beginning to soften.
He finished his first time, heroically, at shot number eight. It had taken a full three and a half minutes from when he had started to come for him to finish entirely.
As he finally ended his onslaught, Kurosh opened his mouth and released you from his toothy grip… and immediately collapsed into a breathless, sweaty heap on top of you (although gratefully, he was not crushing your chest or lungs).
Kurosh was panting like he had just ran twenty miles in five minutes; his big green arms were visibly shaking and gelatinous. He was utterly spent, all of his power and strength had been drained through his cock and into you.
Your head was able to see above his shoulders; you could see that the muscles on his arms and along his back were visibly still vibrating and twitching helplessly from exertion. His head was turned to the side; all you could see was a puddle of black hair draped across your chest, and one limp, lifeless green pointed ear that flopped lazily into the dense mass of damp locks.
You managed to free your arms from underneath him, and embraced his hot, wet body. You rubbed his neck and broad, sweaty shoulders lovingly and approvingly.
In spite of the difficulties and restrictions that he would not have faced had you been an Orcess, he had performed quite admirably for his very first time.
And frankly, so had you.
You had – and still had, as your mind flicked back to the feeling of his very large but now softening cock still inside of you – managed to fuck a fully adult male Orc to the hilt, and you had had an absolutely amazing time while doing it.
This experience with Kurosh had been one of the best sexual experiences that you had ever had, and it had only been your first awkwardly experimental one with him. That big sweet Orc had been a damn good fuck, one that you eagerly looked forward to your next session again with him.
And again. And again.
As Kurosh’s breathless body quivered silently in your arms while he recovered his strength, your mind began running down its typically weird trains of thought after encountering a new or interesting experience.
You started wondering how you would ever be satisfied with fucking a human man ever again.
Human men didn’t have the stamina, the tusks, the size, or the raw, primal power that an Orc man could give you. An Orc man was also just as capable of tender, romantic love as a human man. What was there not to love about them?
Secretly, you wondered to yourself if this was why sexual contact between your two kinds was considered so illegal.
Perhaps long ago, human men realized that they would lose most of their women into the arms of handsome Orc men if heavy prohibitions were not put in place to prevent the women from ever finding out how delightful that their big green male neighbors could be in the sack.
Sounded par the course to be perfectly honest, you thought with annoyance.
Stupid human male patriarchy.
Perhaps fucking an Orc man was a silently raised middle finger to the (human) Man, and a triumphantly raised fist for Woman?
Or perhaps it was less of a political stand, and more of exactly what it looked like on the surface - just two horny people who were in love with each other, and enjoying a perfectly vanilla session of dude-on-chick deep-dicking…
Well, maybe not *perfectly* vanilla.
After all, you had to deal with wrangling that big green trouser-anaconda, you had that stupidly hot sexy-toothy mating-grip thing Kurosh was so fond of doing, that extended, multiple ejaculation session, and then of course there was the fact that you two fools shagging at all was ‘multiple years in prison’ levels of illegal to begin with...
Whatever. Fuck it.
It was awesome. You couldn’t wait to have another go at that big green man and that fleshy Howitzer he was packing between his legs.
Your brain temporarily out of stupid thoughts, you closed your eyes as you enjoyed this tender moment of silence together.
You mindlessly began stroking your lover’s thick black hair and wet skin in gentle circles. The clean, salty smell of his skin and hair, the rhythmic rise and fall of his lungs as he breathed, your intertwined legs and still connected bodies; you would love to stay just like this, forever with him.
You really wished you could.
…Could you, though?
Do you think you could find a way to hide him away from the eyes of the law, or stand up, take a chance and fight the unjust laws that separated you?
…But would he even want you to keep him forever, even if you found a way to do so?
As you considered this, your eyes opened as Kurosh began to stir. He lifted himself up onto his arms a few inches above you so that you were now face to face.
His face was a hot mess of exhaustion; his hair was stuck to his wet skin in weird patterns and whorls, his smile was wide, warm, and nearly drunken in deeply satisfied, sexytime-afterglow. His round green cheeks were tired and pink, and those intoxicating golden-brown eyes of his were filled with dark, wide pupils that gazed down into the unguarded depths of your soul.
You felt heat rising up again under the intensity of those gentle, penetrating eyes. How he could do this to you every time with his mere gaze was an absolute mystery to you, but you loved it every time he did.
The soft touch of wide, warm fingers began roaming your cheeks, brushing away stray locks of hair. Kurosh’s voice was a feather-light whisper of liquid velvet when he spoke at long last, his deep eyes locked onto yours. “I love you, y/n.”
You smiled back and stroked his soft, warm cheeks gently with the very tips of your fingers. “I love you too, Kurosh.”
Maybe forever was indeed something that he would like to share with you as well.
Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, Kurosh drew you into his arms and legs protectively. You nestled yourself snugly against his warm, broad chest and drifted off immediately to sleep.
You don’t know which of you actually fell asleep first, but you heard the thunder roll gently overhead as you slipped quietly away into unconsciousness.
Kurosh must’ve awoke before you did.
You realized this when you saw that you had all of the blankets piled on you, the camper shell’s rear window open, and the tailgate down. A warm, gentle breeze drifted in, scenting the air with the pleasant, powdery smell of fine chalky dust and sagebrush.
You crawled out to see where he had gone, and found your answer in a pair of fluttering jeans strung onto a long nylon rope just outside the tailgate. He must have found your keys from they had been dropped the night before and opened your truck up in order to get all of your wet clothes and shoes out to dry them.
The yellow nylon fishing rope was a bigger question… because it wasn’t yours.
Where in the hell had he found that out here in east Jesus nowhere?
You wrapped a blanket around you and hopped out barefoot onto the soft and already dusty again soil. Water and mud never lasted long out in the high desert, especially not on the top of a canyon, but it was always a royal pain in the ass whenever it did occur.
A somewhat distant voice rang out melodically over the wind; its familiar deepness told you who it was, and his approximate location - just over the rise but down the edge a little ways - but what surprised you was not its location or source though… it was that it was singing.
You had never heard Kurosh sing… and it had never occurred to you that he would, or could sing.
He was singing a cheerful, upbeat melody in words you couldn’t understand, but one that you immediately recognized as Orcish.
You sat back on the tailgate and listened for a while in silence.
Kurosh had a beautiful baritone singing voice, which smoothly went through several impressive shifts in range as he negotiated a particularly difficult part of his song. His voice rose grandiosely, then petered away quietly, then triumphantly grew into a long phrase that he repeated with gusto several times, before starting itself over again.
You frowned. Someone with the kind of raw talent that he possessed and was now singing out into the dry desert sky to an audience of one would have been noticed early… had he been born a human.
But there was no such thing as talent scouts for Orc singers.
You sat for a time longer, listening and thinking quietly.
You were deeply impressed with his skills, particularly because you had the singing skills of a two-week-old dead bullfrog. The ability to sing like that was like magic to someone who didn’t have it.
Eventually your curiosity won out over your desire to sit and listen to Kurosh’s song, and you hopped off the tailgate and wandered blanket-clad down the canyon’s broad edge towards the source of the sound.
You immediately saw him, maybe a hundred yards down. He was clearly naked – as was expected since all of your clothes were tied on a line that extended from the truck to the old concrete retaining wall by your tent – and was busy tearing out the ass end of a shot-up old model Honda that someone had unceremoniously sent to its final resting place over the canyon’s edge.
Hillbilly kids out here had nothing better to do but drink beer, launch rusted up old beater cars over high points, and then shoot out the remains with shotguns, pistols, and assorted rifles.
You negotiated the rocky cowtrail that led in the general direction of Kurosh, holding your blanket high to avoid snagging it up on brush or dragging it through the dirt.
Kurosh looked up from the trunk at the shuffling sound of your blanket and feet, and upon spotting you, smiled broadly. “Hey, y/n! I’m finding all sorts of good shit in here!” He rummaged around for a moment, and then held up a foot long white styrofoam fishing float, an old yellowed fishing pole, and a rusty crescent wrench.
That trunk must’ve been where he found the nylon rope.
You involuntarily smiled back at his treasure trove of ‘good shit’. “Nice work Kurosh, that was brilliant what you did with the rope up there!”
He grinned proudly. “Thanks! I went exploring to try to find something big enough to hang our clothes out to dry on, and then I found this neat rusty car with all this cool old fishing stuff in the trunk.”
You walked up beside him, and peered into the rotten car trunk with him. The originally gray carpet was red with rust stains and weirdly crispy to the touch with age, but Kurosh was right – it was full of fishing gear, although most of it was long since decayed into uselessness with age.
Just then Kurosh’s mouth popped open with something suddenly remembered. Barely contained excitement brimming in his sparkling eyes, he reached down to the ground and picked up a cache of his greatest prizes: an ancient crowbar and an old machete.
Both were equally rusty, and the black plastic handle from the machete was hard and brittle from exposure to the weather, but he wielded them with as much delight as if he had found the long-lost weapons of an ancient warrior.
His excitement over his ‘archeological finds’ was utterly endearing and infectious, and you found yourself being excited along with him in spite of their dubious levels of actual usefulness. “Very cool, Kurosh!” you smiled back to him.
Kurosh quickly gathered up all of his ‘treasures’ and closed the trunk. “I’ll keep looking for more cool stuff later, but you should come back up to the tent with me! I’ve put a pot of coffee on the little camp stove that I found in the tent, and it should be ready for us by now!”, he said with enough excitement in his voice to make you think that he’d already downed a pot or three by himself. He then ran a few yards ahead, turned back to you, beckoned you with a hand gesture and a wide smile, and then charged his broad, naked green ass up the hill with swift purpose.
You couldn’t help but smile and laugh at the silly green man. Everything he did made you smile.
You marched yourself back up the hill at about 1/10 of the speed that Kurosh had done – you were right, you were definitely still sore as fuck, but nothing you couldn’t manage with a few acetaminophen pills - and walked over to the campsite. The smell of coffee was now bright and sharp on the air, making the camp feel decidedly more welcome and inviting than before.
Kurosh was inside the tent when you arrived, rummaging around furiously within.
You peered inside - apparently he had already stopped by your truck to get all the pillows and blankets from the bed and was arranging them inside. He noticed you peeking in at him, smiled back a sweet way-too-many-big-teeth grin at you, and went back to fluffing pillows and spreading blankets out. You noticed that he was being very careful about placement, and kept rearranging things to make them just so.
Bereft of caffeine and still sleep-groggy/fuck-drunk, it took you a while to figure out why he was doing all of this so relatively early in the morning, but then it struck you: Kurosh was trying his best to take care of you.
He had made you coffee, dried your clothes – even found a line to hang them from! – and fixed you a soft little bed.
Kurosh wanted to show you just what a good boyfriend he was, and just how much you meant to him.
Somebody call the dentist, because you had just encountered something so sweet that it instantly gave you cavities in every single tooth you had in your head.
You crawled into the tent with him, and gave the big sweet Orc a gigantic hug around his neck. “Thank you Kurosh, you didn’t have to do all this for me.”
Kurosh set down a pillow and hugged you back. “You’re welcome y/n! And yes I did, I wanted to make everything as nice and as comfortable as I could for you.”
You cocked your head to one side and offered him a wicked grin. “Thanking me for making you a man last night, are we now?”
Kurosh looked momentarily shocked. “No!! Well… yes too, but no, I would’ve done this anyways even if we hadn’t done anything together last night.”
A somewhat more evil expression crossed his face as he scooped you up and rocked back on his rear, his plush, warm lips now tantalizingly close to your ear. “…Although of course, that was absolutely fucking amazing, and I would be honored if you might consider… a round two with me…” His deep voice was suddenly hungry and dripping with lust, and your face grew hotter at the sound.
Ohhh, that must be the OTHER reason for all the sweet stuff.
Dudes. Always thinking with their other head first.
You placed your hands on his face and turned his head so that one of his pointed green ears was directly in front of your lips. “You’re on, big boy… however, I owe you some serious punishment after that little stunt you pulled last night.”
Without turning his head, Kurosh whispered questioningly. “What stunt?”
You grinned cruelly. “Oh, when you decided to skewer me damn near up to the ribs with that industrial sized unit of yours. You said you wouldn’t try to stuff it all the way in if it wouldn’t fit, and yet you did anyways. Well that shit hurt, so now… now, you’re going to regret it.” You growled and bit his tender earlobe sharply to drive your point home.
His ass was grass. It was even already pre-greened for it.
Kurosh audibly swallowed and his ears tipped down nervously before your eyes. “S-s-sorry about that, I got a little carried a-away…”, he stammered out. He then tried to turn to face you, but you purposefully blocked him with the location of your head so he was forced to continue speaking directly ahead without making any eye contact. “…B-but it worked out in the end, right? I know you had fun… didn’t you? You’re still ok... right? I-I didn’t actually hurt you… did I?”
You swore that you could hear his anxiety audibly rising with every word.
Unsettling Kurosh was stupidly easy, and fast becoming your new favorite activity. He was just too adorable when he was awkward and nervous.
You purred into his ear, your words laced with poison and syrup in equal parts. “Oh I’m perfectly fine, just a little bit sore though. Tylenol will fix me up. But you? You were bad, and you broke a promise to me. You promised me that you wouldn’t do that, and then you went ahead and did exactly what we agreed that you wouldn’t do. You need to be taught a little lesson about keeping your word to me. And bad boys deserve what punishment that they get.”
You then licked his cheek in one wide swath. “You’ll get what’s coming to you at sundown.”
The green ear standing before your lips folded itself down tightly in a clear showing of the rather high anxiety levels that it’s owner was experiencing. Poor Kurosh sincerely had no idea what you meant or were insinuating, so he took it entirely at face value which was that you intended to actually punish him harshly.
You peeled yourself away from Kurosh, and bounded out of the tent with new energy. You noticed that he had totally stopped futzing around with the blankets, and sat perfectly still and silent for a long time.
He was quite scared.
Throughout the rest of the day, Kurosh kept his distance from you when he was able to. Whenever you made eye contact with him, he would avert his eyes from you fearfully, however he still kept up his little sweet mission from earlier of caring for you and tending to your needs.
As you watched him sitting around on random rocks or preparing food on the little camp stove, you noticed him fidgeting his thumbs and picking at the skin of his fingertips nervously. You felt a little guilty about torturing him like that.
You could have come on out and admitted that your intended ‘punishment’ was not exactly verbatim that, but you so enjoyed seeing him timidly mousing around the canyon top and awkwardly trying his best to please you just a bit too much to reveal the truth to him.
Besides, he’d find out soon enough.
The day rolled on, and you were reminded of how utterly desolate this dry part of the world was. The prairie falcons still weren’t here yet, but the danger of winter was definitely gone. Glints of silver on the horizon marked the passage of semi-trucks down a distant lonely highway, right on the edge of the treeless horizon. Fresh sprigs of new growth dotted the ground, and the silvery sagebrush was spotted green with tender baby foliage.
During the heat of the mid-afternoon, you snoozed in the soft shade of the rainfly of your tent, with Kurosh watching you cautiously the whole time. Your clothes and shoes had dried long ago, however you remained nude just to spite him and to keep up your light, background level noise of tormenting the poor gentle Orc man.
Kurosh put on his black boxers and black band t-shirt as soon as he was able, and sulked quietly to himself as he unhappily chewed protein bars and jerky. You swore that you saw him kicking rocks in annoyance down the hillside at one point.
At long last, the brilliant orange sun slipped behind a veil of crimson and violet, and finally into the velvety darkness of night. Ten-thousand points of brilliant light dotted the sky; out here, there was no light pollution to hide the sparkle of the stars from your eyes. The Milky Way itself was visible to the unaided eye, and distant coyotes yelped their lonely, barky song across the vast emptiness.
Before the sun had set however, you had dug and started a little firepit in such a way that its light would be below the level of the ground, its flame safe from the wind and hidden to all but those to stood above it. You had also thrown your thick leather belt over the roof of the truck, and taken the nylon rope and tied it to the undercarriage, and put the e-brake on. The two free ends of the gold colored plastic rope lay out on the ground from the front and rear axles of the truck where they were tied. You had also located a few of the the heavy-duty bungee cords that you used to secure gear in your truck, and heaped them in a pile at your feet near the firepit.
You’d hope all of this would be strong enough for what you had planned. You didn’t know.
The entire time you busied yourself with your plans, Kurosh sat silently in the dust, his body visibly quivering. The golden firelight danced in his eyes, which had been fixed on you fearfully from the moment that the night had swallowed the last light of day into itself. He was terrified.
You placed a very large, very thin blanket across the ground in between the gold ropes and the truck tires... finally, you huffed loudly with great satisfaction.
It was time.
Your eyes flicked mischievously over to Kurosh, who looked back at you like he had been handed a death sentence, and beckoned him over with a curled finger.
Hesitatingly, the big Orc rose to his feet and came to stand before your nude body. You were enjoying this little power-play game of yours, maybe a little too much.
A wicked smirk crossed your face as you softly slapped the folded up collection of bungee cords against your open palm. “Take off your shirt, and kneel.” You pointed to the exact spot you wanted him, in the middle of the thin blanket.
Wordlessly and still quivering slightly, Kurosh did as he was asked, and folded himself neatly up on his big green knees before your feet, his broad hands still holding his shirt.
You had always had a bit of a penchant for dramatic roleplay, but you absolutely LOVED seeing the big, handsome young Orc man so obedient and fearful of you. It turned you on like gas poured onto a fire.
You then took Kurosh’s shirt from his hands and walked up to him. You swiftly wrapped his shirt around both of his wrists as protection for his tender skin, before tying him up securely with the fabric-coated bungee cords. You tugged on the ends to make sure the knots held tight; your handiwork with a rope was still second to none.
Kurosh was shocked and horrified that you would do this to him, and looked up at you with an open-mouthed expression of utter betrayal as you walked over to rest your back gently against the smooth body of the black truck.
Ignoring his shock, you instructed him to lay on his back at your feet, and to raise his bound hands to you. Obedient as ever, Kurosh timidly did as he was asked.
The firelight reflected on your skin and threw long, evil shadows all around, making you look like an cruel pagan deity newly sprung to life and thirsty for a fresh sacrifice; a vengeful spirit from the ancient times, revived and eager for blood to be spilt in her name once again.
You silently crouched down and took both golden ropes in hand, tying them securely to the free ends of the bungee cords around his wrists.
Kurosh was now lying flat on his back in his black boxers, his arms bound together at the wrists and drawn up behind him by a pair of golden nylon ropes, to which the handsome young Orc man had been tethered to the side of 4,800 pounds of steel and iron truck frame.
You seriously hoped that it would be enough.
You’d never cockteased a tethered Orc man before. Your particular Orc was normally a stupidly strong guy, but when sexually amped up you could only imagine how much stronger he could actually get under a flood of adrenaline and sexual need.
Now add in the frustrations of being teased and restrained…
You kind of wished you had opted for an even bigger truck than the one you currently owned.
Kurosh was utterly petrified now, his glittering eyes thrown open wide and fearful. You hoped he wouldn’t start to cry or something and make you ruin the surprise before you could begin the show.
You walked slowly, predatorily around the prone form of Kurosh, your eyes hungrily drinking in the sight.
You came to a stop between his feet, and stepped forward confidently across his body to stop at his chest, where you suddenly dropped down and straddled him. “It’s time for me to give you your punishment, and to teach you a couple of… lessons.”
Your eyes were mirthful, evil, utterly wicked as you began to speak. “Lesson 1. You do not speak until I say you can. Speak even a single word, and I’ll punish you further.”
You slowly brought both of your fingers to your mouth, licked their ends until they dripped with wetness, and then reached down and pinched his dark green nipples, hard.
Kurosh shrieked loudly with fear, and only a tiny bit of actual pain.
The noise had startled you enough though to draw your hands back, but you effectively hid any other external sign of it affecting you.
You smirked, and pinched him again, but instead of drawing back, you rubbed his nipples vigorously between your thumbs and forefingers.
Kurosh looked up at you with a worried mix of fear and confusion, but he dared not ask you a word.
You then leaned forward, allowing your hands to touch his bound wrists and nearly placing your breasts in his mouth – you noticed his golden eyes flick to your peaked, raised nipples with interest, and then back to your hands fearfully – and then you seductively trailed them all the way back down both of his big forearms, across his shoulders, along his pectoral muscles, and then up towards his broad jawline.
You watched a big knot in his throat bob as he swallowed it away, which gave you an idea.
You snarled, exposing all of your small but very sharp white teeth, and you dropped your mouth to his neck. Gently, you nosed around and found a bit of loose green skin between his ear and his neck, opened wide… and bit him very hard.
Kurosh thrashed his legs and yelped; he wasn’t sure if you were trying to hurt him or seduce him now.
You laughed as you ran your fingers over the rough, red bite mark raising on his skin. “Silly boy. Quit wiggling around, or I’ll make that mark permanent.”
Kurosh settled down and watched you with a terrified, hawk-like gaze as you leaned in, and bit him again in a slightly different spot in the same area. This time however, instead of you releasing him, you sucked on the injured skin tenderly.
You heard a subtle shift in the pattern of breathing beneath you… he definitely liked what you were doing to him.
You then moved your attention to the soft, fleshy lobes of his ears; you leaned down to the one that wasn’t pierced, took the warm flap into your mouth, and nursed it gently between your wet lips.
His breathing swiftly grew into a purred growl; he absolutely loved this too. You could feel his weight shifting around beneath you as he lightly began to test his bonds.
Eventually, you plucked yourself away from his ear, but not before toying with it and its pierced twin first. You trailed your fingers along their smooth, curved edges to the pointed tips, then back down to his lobes. Simultaneously they twitched involuntarily at the fluttering emotions of their owner. There was just something that was too damn cute about those wiggling, highly emotive green ears of his.
But you had bigger toys to play with than just his neck and cute, pointed ears.
Sitting up atop his chest, you slid yourself backwards until you were straddling his wide, emerald-green thighs. You peered down at his crotch, and saw that an obvious half-popped erection had risen up beneath the silky fabric of his black boxers.
He could do better than that. You’d just have to help him to get there.
You reached up from the left leg hole of his underwear, and searched around beneath the fabric until you felt his balls. Gently, you massaged his large sack with your fingertips, rolling the soft, wrinkled skin between your warm fingers and caressing what lied within with delicate, skilled movements.
He watched you with deep concern as you fondled his jewels; he feared that you would squeeze down on them and seriously hurt him… but he also totally loved the feel of what you were doing to his sensitive genitals. The bulge in the front of his boxers twitched and grew slightly at your handiwork.
You noticed it and nodded approvingly. “Good. Good boy… I want to see more of that.”
You added a second hand, and now lavished your manual ministrations to both of his balls at the same time. He grunted and shifted his body slightly a bit in appreciation.
You slowly peeled your hands away from his testicles to his upper thighs, wrapped your hands around the waistband of his underwear, and in one smooth movement, slid them around the broad curve of his ass and all the way down to his ankles.
Kurosh looked at you with wide-eyed confusion.
Flashing a wink and a smirk, you stood tall, snatched your belt off the roof of your truck, and proceeded to lash his ankles together with them, using his own underwear as a soft, skin protecting barrier.
Kurosh’s face abruptly drew into an angry snarl as he roared in protest. “What in the FUCK are you doing, y/n?! Why the fuck are you tying me up… have you lost your god damned mind?!”
Your face bunched up into a hateful hiss as you snatched his big balls up in one scooped hand and pointed angrily into his face with the other. “I SAID NO TALKING UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN! LAST WARNING HERE, BIG BOY!!”
That got his undivided attention.
The large Orc’s soft lower lip quivered in fear; he was helpless to whatever cruelty you had intended to do to his defenseless nuts. You tapped your sharp fingernails against his sack as if to drive the literal ‘points’ home to him.
You scowled and spat into the dirt coldly. “You need to learn you some goddamn manners, that’s what you need to do,” you snorted as you gently released his balls. You sat straddling his wide, naked green thighs for a moment before you suddenly got up and walked off to the tent, leaving him naked and alone for several moments.
It took you a bit to find Kurosh’s pants and his belt, which like yours, was a wide black leather strap with many holes in it and a chunky silver buckle. It was a standard metalhead gear accessory.
You slowly approached him, thwapping the thick fold of black leather strapping into the palm of your hand ominously.
Kurosh was struggling against his bonds as you walked up; you could see he was getting very annoyed with being tied up.
You smirked, because in a few minutes he was going to learn to appreciate his fetters.
You took his wide black belt, looped it around the back of his thick, muscular neck, and fed it back through its own buckle, forming a broad leather choke collar.
The now fully tethered Orc looked positively furious at this new additional insult/restraint; his eyes narrowed resentfully and nostrils flared back at you. Even his ears were tucked low in fury. He was getting downright pissed off.
You shrugged dismissively and gave the wide leash at his throat a gently constricting tug. “Hmph. Maybe you should have considered this before putting your pleasure first instead of our promise last night.”
Kurosh snorted angrily and looked away towards the soft sand in the firelight. You could see a bit of guilt dancing in the reflected light in his eyes as he cast them away from you.
You took a moment to study him a bit while he pointedly refused to make eye contact with you.
Kurosh was such a handsome man.
Everything about him was absolutely exquisite; his high, chiseled cheek bones that were rounded and plump, his heavy set, masculine jaws, his soft, plush lips and wickedly curved, dangerous tusks. His profile was perfectly sculptural, formed by the hand of a master artist. You loved every minute detail about this strange, beautiful, perfect Orcish man.
You then sat yourself back down across his broad green abdomen and sighed happily, as you quickly wallowed out a happy little nest for yourself in the middle of his body. You unfolded your limbs and laid flat, belly to belly across his nude form. “I sort of like you like this. I think you make a lovely bed, Kurosh. Don’t you think?”
Your only response was an angrily huffed snort aimed away from you.
You laughed softly in response. “Ok, be that way, you big turd.”
With a long, luxurious stretch across his now totally naked form, you sat back up and laid with your legs aimed up towards his chest, feet draped over his shoulders, and the top of your head nestled up against the base of his half-erect cock.
You saw one quick golden-brown eye flick towards the sensation of the warm top of your head and hair suddenly pressed up against the sensitive base of his dick, and then angrily back away from you. He was still sulking about being tied up, and he absolutely wanted you to know it.
Silently, you dipped two of the fingers of your left hand into your wet entrance, and quietly began to pleasure yourself with light circular movements. Your efforts caused your thighs to clench, pressing your feet and calves up against his muscular neck.
He still refused to look at you or what you were doing to yourself.
You lazily tugged on the belt-leash that you had in your right hand to get his attention. Still nothing.
Kurosh was mad, and therefore was going to be an obstinate ass. He knew what you wanted him to do, and was now refusing on principal to do it.
Drawing your face up into a hiss, you jerked the leather strap quite hard across his neck as you increased the speed of your self-massaging slightly. Kurosh snapped his head towards you, mouth pursed as if he was about to snarl out an angry obscenity regarding his current list of frustrations – and then he saw what you were doing to yourself right in the direct view of his wide, surprised eyes.
His ears snapped to their completely fully pricked, upright attention at the sight before him as he lunged involuntarily against his restraints towards you. His plush lips tucked into his mouth as his broad tongue flicked out hungrily. The Orc’s big green nostrils suddenly flared open wide as he took in the aroma of your aroused body at that close range.
Every instinct that he had suddenly started going nuts in his brain at the sight before his eyes and from the sexually charged pheromones in the air, spurring him on like an instinctual call to arms to mate with you.
There you go, you giant whiny doofus. Now chill out and enjoy the sexy-time ride.
You slowly pressed a pair of fingers into yourself, dipping it into the clear slickness there, and pulling them out again right in front of Kurosh’s starved, hungry eyes. You toyed lazily with a sparkling string, before leaning back to wipe it across his now entirely erect cockhead.
His entire body thrashed violently trying to free itself to get to you. You could hear his breath coming unglued, and his powerful muscles were coiled and quivering beneath you.
Your big, handsome Orc boyfriend suddenly wanted to fuck you, now. Right now.
His sudden about face from ‘fuck you’ to ‘fuck me’ made you smile, but still you offered no satisfaction to anything but yourself. You picked up your pace, moving up to your tender clit and working it over with slick fingers. A soft moan left your lips as you massaged the hottest, tingliest parts of your body.
The big Orc whimpered piteously. He wanted nothing else in the world but to be those fingers. His sensitive nose was full of the scent of hot sex and arousal, just a few inches out of reach from his face, and yet he remained restrained and denied any physical pleasure from it.
You peered back at him with a lustfully raised eyebrow and pink-flushed cheeks. “Something wrong back there, Kurosh?” Your dark voice simply dripped with cognac and strychnine.
He nodded unhappily, and his eyes darted up to his hands and then back to you, imploring you with a silently asked obvious request.
You rubbed your calves against his throat seductively, squeezing his neck ever so gently between them. “Oh, do you want me to free you? So you can what, take your pleasure with my body again? How do I know you’ll keep your promises this time?”
He nodded furiously ‘yes’, and whimpered weakly against his fetters.
You however noticed that his beautiful golden-brown eyes were focused more on your crotch than your face.
You smirked and continued rubbing yourself and moaning out soft, pleasured groans. “No Kurosh, I don’t believe I will be letting you go any time soon. I see where your attention is and it’s not to my words.”
A lazily dismissive hand twirled a little circle in the air, still holding his belt between your fingers. “Maybe when you learn some basic obedience, I can let you off your leash.”
Another furious bout of straining and struggling transpired, shaking the truck violently and nearly throwing you off of his body. His fury was then followed by the saddest series of sounds you’d ever heard come out of a grown man.
You were very quickly learning that Orc men were hilariously out of their element when they couldn’t just physically overpower their sexual partners.
You sighed and sat up, momentarily stopping your fingers. “Tell you what. You successfully learn lesson 2… and I might consider untying some part of you.”
His eyebrows bunched up quizzically.
You rolled your head back against your shoulders and raised two fingers high. “Lesson 2. You can only do what I say, when I say.”
The thick black eyebrows unbunched themselves and rose up high in horror.
“You heard me,” you sneered.
You heard a woeful groan from deep inside the big barrel chest that you were using as a bed.
You raised a single finger again, this time in warning. “Nah-ah, I don’t want to hear your sass, Kurosh. You need to be taught some control before you hurt me.”
A single, low, unhappy huff was what you earned in response. The puff of hot air blew his hair up like crow feathers caught in a windstorm.
You sat up on his chest, face to face with him now. “OK, school’s in session now, big boy.” You leaned close and placed a single hand on his cheek. “Do not do anything, unless I say you can, or ask you a question. Not a movement. Got it?”
He nodded ‘yes’, but with clear annoyance burning in his eyes.
You smirked, and pushed yourself up farther atop his chest before pressing his nose and lips between your bare breasts. His little round green nose poked out from between the cleft of your cleavage, and you were careful to arrange yourself around his variously sized needle-tipped tusks.
However, as instructed – he did nothing but stay perfectly still, with wide, hungry eyes fixed on your nipples, which were now just mere inches away from his eyes.
Pleased that he could maintain control for this, you squished his flushed cheeks between your breasts several times with an evil smile. You noticed that he kept flicking his attention between your eyes and your tits repeatedly, but in equal amounts this time; he was trying so hard to pay attention to you and not just his sex drive.
“Good boy, look at you maintaining control,” you purred.
Raising a sinister eyebrow, you lifted one of your breasts up to rest on his involuntarily quivering lips. “Don’t speak, but you can open your mouth.”
Kurosh did as he was told, and you immediately popped one of your nipples inside his warm, wet mouth.
“Suck,” you commanded, the need audible in your voice. “And watch those big fucking teeth of yours. You bite me and I’ll make you regret it.”
Greedily, his plush, satin-soft lips nursed at your breast. His broad tongue laved and teased your tender, sensitive nipple, as he sucked you deeper into his mouth. You could hear his breathing getting rough, and his eyes were half-lidded and heavy with lust. A quiet groan slipped past his throat, rumbling beneath you.
Satisfied with his careful, toothless treatment of one breast, you decided to go a little farther. “Open again.”
As before, he obediently did so – and you rewarded him by pressing both of your breasts together and putting them into his very large mouth at once.
“Suck on both of them, and do a good job,” you quietly instructed.
Kurosh suddenly moaned involuntarily. His eyes snapped shut as he sucked on both of your breasts at the same time; his tongue caressing first one, then the other, then right down the middle. His lips gently nursed at your soft skin, raising goosebumps up your arms and down your neck.
He was getting quite good at this game.
While Kurosh suckled your breasts, you buried your face into his thick black hair, just above his forehead. You inhaled the scent of salt, sweat, and natural skin oils from him; his masculine scent was just as intoxicating as ever. Your fingers twisted deep into his hair and knotted themselves into the silken strands, then tugged upwards on his scalp gently as your fingernails scraped his warm skin roughly.
Kurosh opened his mouth slightly and groaned a tender, high pitched, cute little note of pleasure, before resuming his nursing activities again. You could feel him squirm and writhe beneath you in abandon.
Someone was finally having himself some fun.
After several minutes of teasing his hair and letting him suck on your tits, you leaned back, and gently plucked your breasts from his mouth. A long string of silvery saliva trailed between his soft lips and your peaked nipples. With an approving smirk, you looked up to see his response.
Kurosh looked positively drunk; his darkened eyes were swimming, his face was flushed pink, and his mouth hung crooked and drooly. Even his ears were tipped off at a lazy looking angle.
Perfect. He was ready for more.
You lifted yourself off of his body for a moment, only to seat yourself across his wide green thighs. You faced him, and his gigantic, fully engorged cock and taut, round balls.
Kurosh glanced drunkenly at you, and flashed you a cheeky smirk as he waggled his raised eyebrows. There was too many teeth in his grin, as usual, but he did it in a way that totally was designed to be as flirty as possible.
Even tied up by all four limbs, leashed around the neck, and denied the right to move or speak of his own accord, Kurosh’s naturally high levels of sass and flirtatiousness with you could not be completely denied.
He looked absolutely fucking adorable, and he knew that you thought that he was, too.
You shot him back an equally cheeky grin, and tugged smoothly but firmly on his leash for a moment. “You’re a real flirt, you know that right?”
He groaned pleasurably when you tightened the belt around his neck, and nodded affirmatively through his intoxicated, heavy-lidded eyes.
You slowly tugged the belt tighter again, and noticed that while he was tensing his muscles against it as it tightened - which was the body’s natural response to being choked slightly - but that he was not fighting it at all. His massive dick twitched strongly upwards as he did.
Hmm… now that was interesting.
You leaned your mouth slowly down to the base of your big veiny sexy-time opponent/partner from the night before.
You had lost all fear of its size after conquering it, and instead looked upon it with greedy, hungry eyes. You laid your head against his massive thighs, pursed your lips and gently sucked a tender kiss along its dark, imposing shaft, causing it to twitch violently in response.
At the exact same time that you kissed his warm manhood, you tugged on the belt constricting his neck. The heavy muscles under the skin of his lower abdomen and thighs tensed up suddenly, tossing you slightly upwards.
Before he could recover though, you took his still quivering cock in hand and continued kissing it from the base up, however you purposefully were giving no attention to the wide, flared head. You then saw a fat bead of precum shake itself free from the deep slit in the tip, and land with a juicy splat on your cheek.
You muttered crossly as you wiped the unexpected droplet of warm wetness away. “Kurosh, don’t you dare start to come yet. I saw that.”
He made a nonchalant expression and shrugged silently as if to say, ‘Meh’.
Oh, your sass has quite gone on for long enough, cutie.
You slipped a hand under his balls while you went back to kissing his shaft. Carefully, and with skilled hands, you gently weaseled your hand between the top of where his balls were in their sack, and the shaft of his actual dick. Once there, you squeezed slowly, forcing them down and away from their raised and ready position.
Kurosh suddenly tensed up and moaned a whining, needy cry at the sensation of you forcing his balls down. You peeked up in time to see his golden-brown eyes roll back into his head and hide behind his eyelids in ecstasy. Even his lips were withdrawn into his mouth in pleasure, his ears flicked low and tightly alongside his head.
His drawn up, severely flustered expression made him look like he’d just been fucked by the biggest, sexiest lemon that the world had ever known.
The expression of such intense pleasure on his face was just too absolutely freaking adorable to you, and you bit your lower lip in utter delight when he wasn’t looking.
It was fairly obvious that he REALLY liked what you were now doing to him, so of course you kept it up.
Still holding firm, steady tension on his balls, you denied them their naturally desired pathway of rising up towards the base of his cock. While the weight of your hand carefully pleasured his nuts in a delicious balancing act of restraint, denial, and tension, you used your other hand to constrict his neck with the belt, just a bit harder than before in the hope that the combination would provide him even greater pleasure than before.
Kurosh arched his back involuntarily upwards, and groaned weakly. His breathing held still and silent for a moment as you drew the strap tightly across his broad green throat, then returned air to him in a heaving, ragged, panting mess. His large penis jerked upwards in approval, as he thrust himself up into nothing at the sensation of having his airway lightly constricted.
You carefully watched his response until he had fully recovered. You wanted to make sure that the delicate, but slightly dangerous things you were doing to him was not causing him harm or distress… after all, the point to all of this was to titillate, excite, pleasure, and thrill your lover, and not to brutalize or injure him or her.
A few quiet moments went by, Kurosh finally fluttered his eyes open. He peered blearily down at you, his mind still reeling from intense pleasure.
Slowly, he relaxed the muscles in his big arms, raised his ears up and licked his lips with obvious excitement. Lusty intensity burned hot in his eyes. He absolutely wanted and looked forward to whatever sinfully forbidden, unknown treat of the flesh that you were going to expose him to next.
Still holding onto his ballsack, you raised your free hand’s fingers up from the leash playfully, leaned in towards his eager, libidinous face and whispered softly. “So, you like how all this feels, huh?”
Kurosh nodded vigorously, adding in several low huffs of pleasurable agreement. His black hair bobbled excitedly along to the happy motion of his head.
Leaning in as far as you could go across his chest without releasing his nuts from your hand, you placed one of your feet on top of his thighs and the other into his stomach, licked your wet, pouting lips, and growled out a command that dripped thick with hot, deadly venom:
“…Then fucking beg me for it, you big green son of a bitch.”
Before he could answer you though, you drew the leash down hard and taut as you simultaneously pulled down on his nutsack, and squeezed the big shaft of his dick firmly between the large muscles of your smooth inner thighs.
Kurosh screamed for a brief moment before you restricted his airway with the leather strap, and thrust himself upwards wantonly several times into the sky. Tiny pinpoints of sweat formed on his forehead, chest, and abdomen from the violent intensity churning within him as he struggled for air.
As soon as the leash relaxed he screamed out into the night with eyes that were still tightly screwed shut from pleasure, “HOLY FUCK, MORE PLEASE, Y/N… PLEASE!! GIVE ME MORE, OH GOD, PLEASE GIVE ME MORE!”
You chewed your lower lip in delight at the magnificent firelit scene now playing out before your eyes; the handsome, muscular young Orc man, bound firmly at the wrists, ankles and neck, eyes shut tight and body just as naked as the day he was born, writhing in pleasure and agony as he cried out your name and begged you for more.
You had never been more turned on before in your entire life than you were in that moment.
The air in your lungs was full of volcanic cinders, your core ached in pulsing tongues of fire, and liquid magma pulsed through your veins, scorching and scalding as it flowed across the remains of your charred bones.
You panted hungrily at the sight of the twitching, helpless, beautiful man before you; simultaneously you wanted to violently fuck the breath from his lungs and incinerate his flesh in pleasure beneath the being of vengeful, molten fury that you had become.
But first… you had to give him what he asked for.
And so you gave that sweet, freshly de-virginized Orc boy more of everything you had available to give him.
For the next several minutes, you teased, tugged, choked, licked, sucked, milked, scratched, and twisted anything of his that was in the reach of your greedy, skillful hands. You jerked him, bit him, kissed him, massaged him in all of the pleasurable ways that you knew how.
You brought him right to the razor’s edge until he screamed and moaned with ecstasy, held him breathlessly there, then forced it back down again into the depths with careful counterapplications of pain and misdirection.
Over and over again.
You watched as he thrashed for you, his dark, painful member dripping, aching, and utterly desperate for release, but each time you brought him right to the moment of no return, you denied him at the last split second from actually completing his mission.
You forced him to ride the exquisite rolling waves between denial and orgasm multiple times, until hot silvery tears were streaming uncontrollably down his face as he heaved in ugly, ragged, euphoric breaths.
Kurosh had no idea that any of this was even physically possible to feel, until he was already deep in the thick of it with you, howling in delight and agony while he screamed out your name and begged you with every ounce of his being to give him more. He had no idea that sexual pleasure could ever be anything this intense or powerful.
All he had understood about sex before that night was the ho-hum vanilla basics that he’d seen in his beloved Orc/human pornographic videos; chick on dude or dude on chick, poke, hump, hump, hump, bite, splat, done.
You had opened his newly de-virginized mind to options and sensations never before dreamed or imagined.
At the moment that you finally mounted his rigid cock and forced it up inside of your body (after a series of initial painful grinding attempts to insert it), Kurosh’s mind was reduced to quivering jelly; his consciousness cast off some ten-thousand miles away from his physical form and suspended forty miles above the ground by slender gossamer spiderwebs of rapturous, orgasmic pleasure.
He wasn’t even sure if he could form words anymore; in truth, almost all of the vocalizations that he made while you rode him to both of your completions was a series of strange little nonverbal, wispy gasping sputtery noises, like those of a dying fish gaping helplessly in the heat of the sun.
The only intelligible word that he uttered the whole time, was your name.
Kurosh screamed it out as he came inside you violently; his overly-stimulated body wracked with white hot electricity and plasma fire, while he arched up high in a final supernova of bliss when he hit his thunderous release.
Tears streamed down his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. He could still make out the form of your body, straddled across his thighs, his cock buried to the hilt up within you as you threw you head back in the throes of your own release against him.
He remembered your fingers buried into the soft skin of his abdomen, your hair flying about and backlit by the fire, and the soft keening cries you made as you clenched his shaft and fucked him mercilessly through your own intense orgasm.
You continued riding him and crying out his name as he blew load after load inside of you, while he intermittently howled out your name like a gutshot wolf, still pleading and begging you for more between his multiple ejaculations.
You stopped bothering to count them after he had blown past load number six.
After a mind-blowing five solid minutes of him blowing the most Herculean series of ejaculatory loads ever witnessed by (human) womankind... poor Kurosh abruptly passed out as you rode him.
You had watched him slowing down and collapsing weakly towards the very end, but suddenly all of his muscles weirdly lost tone and relaxed as he slipped into unconsciousness. It hadn’t quite registered to you yet what had occurred, so you simply poked him, joked with him and talked to him, thinking that he was just being overly dramatic or really super tired like before.
You eventually peeled up one heavy green eyelid and peeked under it – his eyes were rolled back into his head and wiggling around incoherently. Nothing but the very lower edge of his golden-brown iris was visible behind the whites of his eye. Suddenly, his large pink tongue lolled out of his mouth helplessly as he seemed to quiver almost imperceptibly all over.
You absolutely fucking panicked when you realized that he wasn’t faking it.
You pried yourself off of his rapidly softening dick, untied his arms and legs, and with a ridiculous amount of effort, laid him on his side in the classic airway recovery position so that if he vomited he wouldn’t aspirate it and die.
You would NEVER forgive yourself if you caused this sweet man to somehow die for an amazing kinky fuck session.
You draped blankets over him to keep him warm, as you spoke calmly to him and stroked his hair lovingly. Before you knew it, tears began to drip down your face. He had been unconscious for only a fraction of a minute, but to you it felt like forever. Of course the longer he stayed out cold, the worse your anxiety got, and the more you began to blame and curse yourself for doing this to him. You begged him to come back, that you were sorry for whatever you had done to cause this…
…Without warning, his dark eyelashes twitched and fluttered open as he slowly came back to. He peered up at you, confused and still very out of it, as if he had slept for a century or two. “Y…Y/N? Wh-what happened?”
You told him how he had passed out and immediately started going on about how he would be OK, and how everything would be fine, how you would take care of him and all… when he started to weakly laugh.
You drew up your eyebrows in confusion; how could any of this possibly be funny?
Kurosh’s warm smile grew soft and sweet as he carefully found your hand that was nearest to one of his. “Y/N, it was just a little seizure. I’m OK.”
You cuddled his face in your hands and leaned in close to hear his voice and his breathing. “I... I have a seizure disorder. It only started after I was electrocuted. The doctors say this is just how it is now, that it won’t get worse or better, it is just how my brain is now. I take medicine to help counteract it, but sometimes they still just happen anyways.”
He smiled softly as he squeezed your hand weakly. “Don’t worry, they don’t happen often though, maybe just once or twice a year, or maybe not at all. It definitely wasn’t anything you did, and… and I’m sorry, I guess I should have told you about them earlier.”
He furrowed his eyebrows upwards in an obviously funny way as he wheezed a soft, tired laugh. “Most of the time I forget that I get them at all because it happens so rarely these days, and taking the stupid pills is just automatic for me.”
You laughed nervously. “I… I thought maybe it was something I did to you, or that what we did was just too much for you to take…”
The giant green man shook his head against the makeshift pillow you had made out of his shirt and shorts. “Definitely not. Sometimes I get them while I’m nose deep in code.” A sassy but still obviously weak smirk bloomed bright on his cheeks. “And I assure you that sitting around writing code is absolutely nothing like what we just did. Wha... what WAS all that that we did, anyways? I've never heard of anything like-”
You sniffed back some tears just then, and suddenly he noticed that you were crying. His eyes snapped open in panic, but he was still too drained and weak to sit up. “Y/N, you’re crying!... Oh no, please don’t cry over this, I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to scare you… Please don't cry...”
You smiled through the falling drops of silver. “You shouldn’t be sorry, Kurosh. I… I was just scared I’d hurt you, or that…”
He froze, eyes fixed and pleading with you to continue as he stroked your hand.
You ran a tender hand over his warm face, brushing away some of his silky black bangs from his eyes. “…I was scared you would die.” Try as you might though, the tears wouldn’t hold back now, no matter how strong you tried to be.
You suddenly burst into ugly tears as you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close as you openly sobbed into his hair. It was true; you didn’t know why he had fainted and refused to awaken for so many long, terrible seconds. You had feared that he would never wake again, and the thought of losing him forever was too much.
His wide, soft fingers squeezed your hand tightly. “I love you, so, so much. I promise, I won’t ever leave you...”
Without letting your lips leave his hair, you whispered into his skin at close range, your tears falling onto his skin and racing away from your eyes. “I love you too... and... neither will I...”
That night, you remained on the pile of blankets right next to Kurosh, refusing to let your body leave the center of his big green chest. You needed to feel his heart continuing to beat, his lungs filling with oxygen, all of the signs that life still resided within him in order to relax. Except for a single bathroom break from the both of you, you both stayed clinging tightly to each other until dawn.
You talked all night long to each other.
Kurosh admitted how he had been mad as hell when you had tied him up, but was now totally a believer in your unorthodox methods of pleasure. He said he hadn’t expected himself to, but he had fucking loved it when you choked him and took total control of his body. He’d never heard of anything like this, and he wanted to know more.
You told him that once you were back in a real town, you’d get better equipment – although due to the massive size of his body, you’d probably have to have it all custom made - and give him a much more exciting performance. You taught him all about ball gags, collars, cock rings, handcuffs, whips, electrostimulation, St. Andrew’s crosses, among other things… He listened to you with rapt attention and asked you many questions about their individual uses and effects, before suddenly asking if you would try them all on him to see what he liked, and if he could try any of them on you.
Your big, green, formerly very vanilla Orc was now a 100%, born-again kinkster.
You finally asked him about that biting thing that he liked to do. He explained that – as you had correctly guessed – the biting thing was what the Orcs called ‘Lohk’kathar’, also known as the ‘Wolf’s Kiss’, due to an old Orcish folk story that stated that wolves bit each other like that when they mated.
Dubious mammalian behavioral sciences aside, 'Lohk'kathar' was apparently a fairly standard thing that male Orcs did to hold their sexual partners in place for their extended coupling sessions.
Apparently female Orcs generally liked to resume their pre-sexytime activities as soon as they got what it was that they came for (quite literally), so in order for the males to successfully finish their half of the bargain and not just be left blowing loads around like unhappy firehoses, they had to, well... hold her in place until they were done.
And that led to the next question... multiple orgasms/ejaculations in male Orcs. Did they always do that?
Kurosh suddenly exploded into a bout of uproarious laughter that stole away his ability to speak or form words for a full minute; he quickly inferred by your question that male humans must *not* be able to do that.
Once his laughter died down you advised that he was indeed correct, and that only with exceedingly rare exceptions that only the human *females* could have multiple orgasms.
He referred to human males’ inability to come repeatedly as ‘a goddamned shame’ and wondered aloud if ‘jealousy’ or ‘pent up sexual frustration’ was the reasons why human men generally tended to hate Orc men so much more than they hated the Orcish women.
You shrugged and said as a human woman, you had no earthly idea what human men thought about anything, or if they even did.
He eventually went on to say that the longer the length of time that a male Orc could ejaculate was considered a bit of a point of pride, a sort of show of a man’s strength, self-control, and virility.
Apparently twenty minute coming sessions were not unheard of.
One-pump-chumps were derided and ridiculed by both male and female Orcs as weak, ineffective, and considered a terribly poor choice of a mating or life partner.
He was actually embarrassed that he could only go for a few minutes with you, because he was always way too far gone and way too excited when ‘the big moment’ came... and he... well... basically, he blew his load(s) early and nearly all at once with you.
It took you several minutes to pick your jaw up off the floor at that little revelation.
You said that he performed very well for you, and you had absolutely no complaints with anything he did for and with you in the sack.
Then he asked about what would happen when you both eventually returned to the real world - a world where you two were not allowed to even speak about the things you’d been freely talking about for the last several hours.
You two began to plot and scheme a way to remain together, both emotionally, physically, sexually, and romantically. You simply refused to allow yourselves to be separated from each other again.
You decided that you would return him to his rental apartment and that you would go to the house you owned outright, Skype each other - which was safer than cell calls or texting since Kurosh could mask his location online - and figure out how to get him and all his stuff moved bit by bit in secret and into your downstairs basement apartment.
Kurosh would continue doing his various coding jobs from your house, you would do your field work, and he would just never go outside unless he was hidden in your truck (you had a big garage that went from the inside of the house to the truck without ever having to step foot outside).
He said he was fine with that because he liked being indoors and comfortable anyways, and he believed that the trade off was so totally worth it.
Every night you were home you would be able to see each other. You’d still not be able to go out in public together as a couple of course, but you’d be able to get as close to a ‘real’ couple as you possibly could given the circumstances.
You agreed to this dangerous little plan... in part because the lonely, heart breaking alternative was absolutely unacceptable.
The cold, hateful world could go right on ahead and fuck right off if it thought that it could tear you two away from each other, simply because of what you were.
You and Kurosh spent the rest of your first week together as a couple planning your futures, making love repeatedly and frequently, laughing, crying, and basically enjoying each other’s company in the weirdly paradoxical freedom that being out in the extreme open could provide. You were now both completely comfortable around each other, naked or clothed, and were entirely familiar with each other’s likes, dislikes, opinions, pasts, and dreams for what lie ahead.
Eventually though, the canyon’s true owners, the prairie falcons, arrived to claim their eyrie home. The smaller, swifter male called angrily from high above, while the larger, bolder female made a few fairly serious attack stoops onto the heads of both you and your large Orcish lover. The birds were furious that you two stupid bipedal naked primate things had invaded their territory.
It was finally time for you two to leave the angry falcons to their desolate, ancient desert home and return back to yours, to begin Operation: Illegal Live-In Orc Boyfriend.
In the days to come you would attempt to perform most dangerous, delicate, important scheme that you’d ever made in your life..
...and you bet your sweet ass you’d do absolutely anything that it took to make you and Kurosh’s dreams become reality.
Pulitzer Prize winning biographer from the Times, huh?
Well… Miss… uh? Gotcha. Sorry. Names aren’t sticking like they used to up here.
Well, what else is there left for me to say that hasn’t already been said? I’ve given so many interviews, been the subject of so many books, media circuses, Congressional inquiries, police interrogations, festivities… does it really matter exactly how we got here? Can’t an old Orc be allowed to live the rest of his days in peace and quiet with my family?
Oh, don’t give me that look. You look like my granddaughter when she can’t have what she wants. Look, I’m an old man, I’m tired… and she’s already told you people every gory detail of our life, including whether or not I’m circumcised!
What? She didn’t?
Alright, fine. I’ll tell you again, but this time record the goddamn thing so I don’t have to repeat myself. I’m getting too old for this sort of shit you know.
Hmph. My dick’s not cut, you can put that shit on your god-damned records.
You actually recorded that? Whatever, just leave it on there I guess.
::pained grunt, shifting around:: Can’t believe you’re gonna make me tell you people my whole life story again, Jesus Christ… ::sigh::
Well, after y/n took up me up to the Red Saddle Canyon National Preserve, my life was never the same.
We went back to the city and tried living together, with me pretending to be her downstairs apartment renter, but about four months later one of the neighbors called the cops on me when they saw me taking the trash out to the curb at midnight. I spent my first night in jail there until y/n provided the fake ‘rental agreement’ papers that we’d drawn up when I moved in.
Y/n was devastated, but not out of the fight yet. She immediately sold her house, reported the snitchy neighbor's illegal methamphetamine stockpile in their basement out of revenge, and bought a little mini-ranch of 30 acres just outside of the Sawpine National Forest, up on the eastern side of the mountains. The dry side, yeah. A lot less people over there than on the west side.
Our house was a beautiful cedar wood cabin, some 3,000 square feet and big enough for me in my prime. The whole thing backed up right into the woods, it was real nice and private. Full of wildlife though.
Heh, I got real good at chasing black bears and cougars out of her chicken yard… never seen live bears, cougars - or chickens for that matter - before till we moved out there, to tell you the truth. Like she told ya before, I was a soft big city nerd before I lived out there a few years.
She showed me how to work the land, grow food, and enjoy the outdoors more. Since the nearest neighbor was over ten miles away and on the other side of a river, out there I felt safe to go outside and stay there for more than a few minutes. My skin turned a brilliant shade of green that I didn’t even know that it could with all the sun I got! I got so dark, I shone in the sun.
Hell, we even bought cows and raised them. Cows! My only familiarity with cows was eating them. I had no idea what all went into my burgers.
Me? Oh, what did I do to help out?
Well, I taught her how to speak Orcish. Oh, and I hooked up a military grade satellite uplink so I could keep doing all my coding jobs from home, and so she could finish her doctorate degree remotely. We had the fastest internet for two hundred miles in any direction! And I cleared snow off everything, lotsa snow. Those were my contributions to making our life better. She did all the big work, but she never took credit for it.
Oh, hah! Yeah, yeah, now that was an accident. Birth control shots work 99.8 percent of the time… but somehow we rolled a .2. Just our luck, huh?
Oh, don’t give me that face Mi’kosh, I see you back there flipping your old man off! Your poor mom panicked every night wondering if the authorities were gonna kill you when they found you! I can still beat your ass boy, don’t you make me haul these old bones up to do it, ha ha!
::lots of laughter from several people in the room that slowly died back over several minutes::
But you know… they never did. And they never found Takul either.
At least not while you two were kids, anyways.
No, you two boys stayed home and we taught you little bastards everything we could cram into your little green heads.
Yeah I said your heads were small, I see you two old farts smiling, hah! Oh, your ol’ man has to give you shit, I don’t care how big or old you are, you dillweeds.
My two little dillweeds. ::satisfied, happy grunt::
Heh. You two boys were bright; just two little greedy sponges for knowledge, ready to soak it all up as fast as we could give it to you. You were both reading your mom's field guides by the age of two, writing by four… Hell, I couldn’t keep up with you on Mario Kart by the time you were both five.
Mi’kosh, you were always mommy’s little singer, and Takul, you were daddy’s little artist. I still remember when you painted a picture of me and your Mom’s old black truck, and for some reason you made me bigger than the truck by two or three times. I was just a big green lump to you. Probably still am… my hair’s a little more white than it was back then though.
Oh, and Mi’kosh, when you took apart the ice maker and hooked it up to the tractor battery…
What? Oh, you want to hear when the shit all went down?
I hate telling this part… thirty, forty something odd years later, it still chaps my green ass raw.
Well, it was a winter night, and like all winters around that ranch cabin, it sucked. Snow and cold and darkness, and a freezing wind that just bit right through you.
The winters never got as bad in the city as it did out in east Jesus nowhere where we lived, but that night it sucked everywhere. Passes were just nasty. Snow fell in the city and cut the power off all over.
Mi’kosh was a student back then, just about to finish up his masters in music at the university. He played in a little rock band that was just getting started up. Guitar player and singer, he was good. Just a natural... he got his dad's voice.
Well, Mi'kosh was walking back to his apartment near the university, when a bus lost traction and jumped the curb. Goddamned thing ran him over and destroyed his guitar. One of those stupid articulated buses. My poor boy nearly lost his leg that night, severed the arteries in his left calf. He lost so much blood…
The hospital called me because I was listed on his phone as his dad – we never listed y/n as his mom on anything just in case of an emergency, we didn’t want them to figure things out when a human mother showed up.
Y/n drove me and Takul to the hospital but parked several blocks away and had us walk there – you don’t know how awful it was for her to not go in and see her firstborn boy in the ER! My God, I thought I would have to tie her to the roof rack just to keep her back! But she did, to keep us safe.
One of the best decisions she ever made was the decision to not go in there that night.
My boys looked enough like me to pass for full blooded Orcs on the outside; big, muscular, green, tusks… however the hospital now knew what Mi’kosh really was on the inside, due to the blood tests they had to run to figure out what blood type he had for the transfusion.
Turns out that both of them have type A+ blood, which is the most common human blood type. No full blooded Orc could ever have type A+ blood, we have type K, J, T, and D. Only a very high percentage mix of an Orc and a human could have both the bright green skin that he did and that particular blood type.
Someone who unquestionably had to have both a human and an Orc parent.
They had known my boy was a half-human before my big dumb green ass walked in the door.
When I walked in to his room and stood at the foot of his bed, the first thing they did was ask if I was his father – I of course said yes - they then asked if I was Takul’s father too, and I said yes to that too, just not thinking anything of it… and then two security officers stepped in and handcuffed me at the foot of my boy’s hospital bed.
They then reached over to cuff Takul, and he bolted out the door.
That boy was a track star at the local college, and he ran like his ass was on fire from the security officers. As he ran, Takul called his mother from his cellphone. I heard him screaming to her as he told her all what was happening. He nearly got away, then another squad came around the corner, trapping him between 'em.
He told them to go fuck themselves right as he smashed his phone to bits so they couldn’t use it to find her, just like how I told him to in an emergency.
Then they locked us all up and threw us in jail for miscegenation law violations.
Eventually though, they amped up the charges against me once the authorities figured out where we lived, and they threw my green ass right into prison.
Well, what happened was that when they went and raided our house, they saw our collection of sex toys and dungeon gear – oh hush up Mi’kosh, if it weren’t for that stuff you might not have been here at all, hah! - they couldn’t believe a human woman had willingly had sex with me or used all of this weird-looking gear without being tortured into doing so, so they claimed I must’ve raped y/n for years and forced her to birth my cursed, misbegotten hybrid spawn.
Oh I know right, me… - me! - force her to to anything she didn’t want to, hah! They had no idea. I couldn’t get that woman to agree on the color of shit if she didn’t want to.
Anyways, they said that I was a serial rapist, and they called our kinky bedroom my ‘Orcish rape dungeon’. Such an awful, salacious name of course ended up making all the evening news, and I got sent right down to solitary for my own protection. Rapists don’t get treated well in prison I was to discover; I was actually very lucky that I got sent to solitary before anything bad happened to me. Nothing bad ever happened to me... well, nothing happened at all down in solitary.
My time in prison was lonely… I cried a lot. I hated those damned flat gray walls, I hated not knowing where my wife was, where my boys were, or what they were doing to them. Nobody would tell me anything. They just threw a plate of shitty food under the door at me twice a day like an animal in a zoo.
Part of me wanted to die, but another part held out hope that someone, something, anything would come to our rescue and make it all right.
It also seemed that the authorities didn’t quite know what to legally do with a pair of fully grown half-Orc boys, especially with one of them still recovering from his terrible injuries… but they figured they needed to keep ‘em locked up anyways. If they had been little kids, they'd have put them into orphanages and convinced them they were pure Orcs with weird blood, but since they were older, they couldn't do that. They ended up keeping them separated from any of the other inmates, and basically just left them in the infirmary together in the county jail.
Locked up with no charges filed against them; no hope of ever getting out.
I guess the human men in charge decided that they better keep those ‘boys polluted with Orc genes’ away from their precious human women at all costs or something.
Y/N? She straight up disappeared after Takul’s call. Puff of smoke, gone, off into the night.
She told me later that she knew they would figure out she was the boys’ mother soon enough and come for her, so she went deep to evade 'em.
Real deep. Off the grid kinda deep. Left no digital trail to follow, paid in cash, slept in weird places, stayed off the cell networks.
But before she did though, she went back to the house long enough to smash and demagnetize every hard drive in the house, set the animals up with food, tell the closest neighbor to tend the animals while she was gone – and she paid that man quite handsomely, too – and then she took off into the night with my personal laptop, the satellite uplink, and about $30,000 in cash she’d had on hand in case we ever had to do what she did.
We figured out where she’d gone to when she showed up five weeks later on an emergency national broadcast from the very floor of Congress.
The emergency channel that they have there was intended for use in nuclear war or other catastrophic ICBM attack. It’s an unreasonably powerful signal, intended to override smaller EMPs and still be audible, and its capable of taking over every television, radio channel, and internet feed based from an IP address in this country with a single switch.
She knew right where to go to get access to the biggest loudspeaker in the world, and she drove nonstop to get her ass to it.
Oh? You’ve got the clip? Play it then, I just love to see all the fire she had in her that day! It’s fine, I’ll wait for it to load. I'm not going anywhere, Miss.
Heh, she ever tell you how she got in there with that big bunch of activist Orcs that helped get her onto the floor of Congress? No?
Well, she contacted an Orcish civil rights group during her time as a wanted woman, told them our story and hers, and they adopted her cause right away. They believed her story would be the catalyst that they needed to put Orc equality right up into the forefront of the political world, to unfuck this thing for all of us once and for all.
They had no idea how right they were, or how big this thing was about to go.
The Orcs all posed as waiters, delivery men, security guards, and she went in as part of a standard issue tour group. Nobody noticed her when she broke off and walked into the empty main Congressional floor, until all those Orcs rushed in behind her. They barred the doors with locks and chains, and threw on the emergency broadcast override live feed.
Oh it’s up? Let’s see it! I love seeing her like this, it still turns me on after all these years. Mmm…
Yeah, you heard me, Takul, don't act like you don’t know how sex works… you’ve got three grown kids now, with kids of their own running around out back! Oh, oh, I see you pretending to leave and acting like you don’t hear your old man, hah! ::now shouting as loudly as possible:: You're not deaf yet, boy! Hey Takul, you should try letting your wife tie you up and get that stick out of your ass, you old prude!
::room is filled with stifled snickers::
::voice from another room:: Fuck off, Dad... Love you!
Fuck you too, Takul! Love you more!
Hah! God damn, I still love messing with him.
Did you see the sculpture in the front yard? Takul carved it by hand out of four tons of black granite with only a chisel and hammer. He's letting it weather out there before it goes to the National Museum of Art. He's got several pieces in there... beautiful isn't it? Its a fiery eagle fighting death with its talons... that's an image that has a lot of symbolism in Orcish culture. "O'ghaz'nukoh' is its name. I look at it for hours, and hope he just decides to leave it here for me.
Sorry, just ignore all my rambling. Play it for us, please.
::the video begins; image is of Y/N standing behind a dark wooden podium in front of a flag and the great seal of Congress::
“Good morning, fellow citizens. I have risked my life and the lives of so many others, to tell you a story. A story of three men, who right now stand locked behind prison walls.
Two are guilty only of being born, one is guilty only of love. The two guilty of the crime of being born are my two beloved sons, 22 year old Mi’kosh and 20 year old Takul Ironblood.
I am y/n Ironblood… and my husband, is Kurosh Ironblood… and he... is an an Orc.
My beloved Orc husband did not rape me, as the news has stated over and over. We have loved each other for over twenty years. We still love each other, and we always will.
What the media is calling my husband’s ‘Orcish rape dungeon’ is our kinky fun-room. Yes, we have sex with each other. We are simply two consensual adults playing, pleasuring, and having sex with each other in there. I am aware that the idea of sex with an Orc, or kink play is not everyone’s cup of tea, but that’s all that goes on in there.
Consensual kink play and the use of sex toys is not a crime the last I checked, and how we choose to enjoy and pleasure each other’s bodies should be up to no one but ourselves. It is merely a part of how we show love to each other.
As far as my relationship with my husband goes, while it is true that it is currently a crime for me to have sex with him, it should not be. In the interest of clarity, and to help you to better understand our relationship, I will tell you that Kurosh was a virgin when I met him, however I did not let him stay that way for long. I instigated our first sexual activities, but we now go back and forth as to who instigates sex.
Neither of us have ever forced the other to do anything sexually, or harmed the other. We have seldom argued for more than a few hours, and have never hurt each other purposefully.
Kurosh is a kind, sensitive, tender lover, a faithful partner, a loving, devoted father, and a smart, funny, gentle, wonderful man.
I have chosen to be Kurosh’s wife for many years now, although again due to the present state of the laws, we have never been married on paper. We have spoken our vows to each other in private, and in our hearts we are bound as husband and wife, and thus we refer to each other as such. I have taken his last name, and given it to my two sons, who were fathered by my beloved husband as well.
Unfortunately our sweet oldest son, Mi’kosh, was recently run over by a bus that had lost control on a patch of ice. He nearly lost his leg and almost bled out before they got him to the hospital.
The hospital then used his own blood against him, when they figured out that he has the A+ blood type of a human and the green skin of an Orc.
Realizing that they had a hybrid, and not a full-blooded Orc on their hands, the hospital then called his father and younger brother in, only to arrest them both at the foot of my injured boy’s bed in the ER.
Because they didn’t like the blood that flowed in their veins.
Well, I would like to inform you now, the viewer, that I hold both a masters degree in biology, and a PhD in anthropological studies, with a minor in paleoanthropology.
As a doctor who literally specializes in the study of the nature and histories of our world's peoples, I am here to tell you that if you believe that arresting these good, innocent men for making hybrid children, or for being hybrids themselves is right, that you are wrong.
Demonstrably, scientifically provably wrong.
Allow me to explain.
The people that we call Orcs, who are scientifically known as Homo orcus, are the genetic siblings of humans, Homo sapiens. They are our only extant next of kin in the Homo family tree. Our two species are the only surviving branches of a tree that extends six million years back to Ardipithecus, the ancestor of all hominids - indeed, this peculiar ape was the ancestor of both humans and Orcs.
In addition to this, Homo orcus - whose physical and behavioral differences from the other members of Homo is entirely due to them being subjected to extreme evolutionary selection in a rough, geographically isolated region of the world - is a nearly genetically pure race unto themselves, who have only rejoined the rest of the world due to the recent transportation and communication innovations of the last five hundred years. They have simply been too physically isolated from their Homo siblings to have had significant genetic mixing yet, but from what we can see they are now well on their way to doing just that.... as is the very nature of our entire genus.
Now to discuss the nature of Homo sapiens... If you, the viewer, believe yourself to be purely human, then I have some very interesting news for you: I can tell you with nearly one-hundred percent certainty that you possess within your veins the blood of at least one other species of Homo as well... possibly more than one, in fact.
If you call yourself a 'human'... you are in truth a hybrid yourself, for humanity itself is an entire race of hybrid men.
The ancient races of Homo – Homo denisova, the Denisovans, Homo neanderthalensis, the Neanderthals, and the other genetic sibling races of the genus Homo - barring of course, the geographically isolated Homo orcus – have all combined in the past to give rise to you as you are today.
It is truly at the core of human nature to combine ourselves with the other races of Homo, and to give rise to children bearing the strengths of both parents. Just as it is true with Homo orcus.
The media does its best to hide the existence of healthy, strong, intelligent half Orc/half human hybrids. They tell you that we are so different genetically from each other, that we cannot procreate.
That too, is an utter farce.
The blood of Homo sapiens itself holds undeniable proof that Homo orcus is closer and more compatible genetically to Homo sapiens than Homo sapiens ever was to Homo neanderthalensis. The total lack of Neanderthal mitochondrial DNA in modern Homo sapiens indicates that no matings between female Neanderthals and male humans ever produced fertile offspring; only pairings between human females and male Neanderthals ever produced fertile offspring.
That indicates mitochondrial unviability between those two species.
Now, I can stand here and provide a list of a great many healthy Homo orcus x Homo sapiens people, who have produced children and grandchildren, who were born of both Orcish females paired with human males, or born of human females paired with Orcish males. No significant fertility issues have been documented in such Orc/human hybrids; if anything, the phenomenon referred to as 'hybrid vigour' tends to make them healthier, longer-lived, and somewhat more fertile than either parent race is alone.
Our two peoples are absolutely, provably, genetically compatible in every way.
They will also tell you that all Orcs, like my beloved, gentle husband, are all half-feral animals. They will tell you they are stupid, vicious, feral; Orcs are just savage green brutes with feeble minds and nasty dispositions.
Savage brutes however, do not hold masters degrees in programming.
The men who arrested my family that night did not know or care that both of my sons could read before they were two, or that my husband is one of the finest coders on the continent, collects classic video games, and is a talented, baritone singer, or that all three of them have college degrees and can speak multiple languages fluently; no, they just saw their green skin and wanted them locked away forever for that 'sin'.
I am here to tell you that this is wrong; for if my husband is to be jailed for his actions of consensually producing hybrid children with me, then your Neanderthal and Denisovan ancestors should have been locked up for ‘corrupting’ your once-pure Homo sapiens ancestors with their hybrid children.
If my innocent sons are to remain locked away for being born hybrids, then I ask that those laws be enacted to their fullest extent, and that all those who carry any fraction of genetically impure Homo blood be jailed as well.
Thus, if you still believe these laws are fair in spite of the scientific evidence to the contrary, then every single member of the species, Homo sapiens, should go lock themselves behind the same bars as my sons and my husband.
::y/n is sobbing softly now::
My family is being held at the Bear Lake Correctional Facility, and soon, I will likely join them in some distant holding cell, probably as soon as this broadcast ends.
::the sounds of shouting and pounding on doors grows louder::
You will likely never see my face again.
I have come before you to beg, to plead for my dear family to remain together, for you to free these innocent men and others like them, and to let us simply live our lives in peace.
I ask that you embrace your true humanity, that of a race of hybrid men and women, born from the interspecies love of a hundred thousand years and the ancient hopes and dreams of so many extinct species of people, and to accept the undeniable humanity of our Orcish brothers and sisters.
I ask for you to see past the green and into the red that binds us all together beneath our skins.
::clip ends in a microphone crackle, just as the chains on the doors break in the background as the sounds of physical struggling, shouting, and running feet grow closer::
My God, that never gets old.
You ask what happened next? Well, it’s history.
Y/N and her crew was arrested, but was almost immediately called to stand in handcuffs before Congress again regarding her situation and claims. Her unapologetic defiance and fearless demeanor inspired billions who watched her testimonies, live.
Protests sprung up all over, including at where we were being held. Not two nights after her statement, we started hearing their chants from deep inside the prison walls. Day after day, the numbers grew, eventually their voices couldn’t be ignored.
Marches happened. People blocked highways and flooded social media. Scientists testified about the humanity of the Orcish people, and confirmed the words of y/n as both bleeding-edge science and the undeniable truth. Slogans were born - “I am Ironblood’. People began demanding change and freedom for us and for other Orcs, hybrid children, and humans alike.
People then began openly defying the miscegenation laws. Mixed couples, families with mixed Orc and human members, hybrid children and their families began ‘coming out’. They began showing the world that they existed, that they were valid, and that they weren’t going to hide any longer.
Our little imprisoned family suddenly became the symbol of a mighty civil rights movement around the world.
A few months later, the United Nations was the first to declare that Orcs were indeed fully human, and thus accorded them all of the rights deemed inherent to humanity.
A month after that – and after a bitter, nail biting series of final arguments – Congress finally agreed with the United Nation’s findings. The Supreme Court then reviewed the current laws in light of the new understandings... and ultimately struck down every single law that had denied Orcs the same rights that all humans had.
And with that single court decision, we were all freed.
The laws that kept us apart, that made me, my people, and my children into second-class citizens, were suddenly just gone.
Once we were released, we celebrated nonstop for a month - me getting my driver’s license, my boys’ getting real birth certificates issued for them, us all being able to go to Disney World for the first time, together as a family... in public!
And then, I asked y/n to officially marry me, on paper.
I was in my fifties before I could marry my wife and partner of over twenty years, can you believe that? It was so fucked up back then, I sometimes still can’t believe we really pulled it off and got out from under those dark, awful days.
Oh, the wedding? It was huge. HUGE!! My wedding to y/n was the biggest excuse for a party that our state had ever seen. And I mean that when I said that it was huge... it was literally the largest ever recorded! We filled an actual football stadium and every single seat in the stands with well wishers from around the globe. We had presidents, The Queen, celebrities... you name it.
Oh! Here's something you might not know. Did you know that Guinness confirmed that our wedding was the largest ever? Yep, well they did. I'm pretty sure that we still hold that record.
Y/n's little singer, Mi'kosh, sang and played with his little fledgling band at our internationally televised wedding, even though he was still in leg braces and had to lean against a stool to play. He was signed on with a major record label for his first official job before nightfall. His band's final farewell tour leaves in a month, and then he'll be gone another six months... but after that he's a retired man, just like his old man.
Mi'kosh and his band went triple platinum last year, I believe they had a song on the Billboard Top Ten for sixteen weeks, can you believe it? Oh, and you should ask him for a copy of his newest album before you leave today, its really good. I sang with him in the third song on there, by the way. That wasn't the one on the Top Ten though, but its still good.
Whew... sorry, I keep jumping topics again.
Anyways... eventually though we all went back home. Me and y/n spent another year out at the ranch, but we got tired of the awful winters and the remoteness. We wanted to be closer to our boys, too. So then we sold the little ranch and moved back to the city. Different house though, of course. Since I didn’t have to hide in y/n’s basement like a shameful little secret anymore, this time I proudly carried her over the threshold and into our first official house we bought together.
That house was this house.
I’m too old to do that now you know, carry her around. These old bones of mine can’t hardly stand up to take a pee these days. That’s just what happens when you get to be ninety-five goddamned years old…
What the hell, haha!! And I thought I was the one going deaf and blind!
Y/N’s not dead! That woman's way too goddamned stubborn to die before my old green ass.
Really?... You really didn’t see y/n when you came in? My god. Some fancy-pants big award-winning reporter you are, not noticing the fucking obvious, maybe I should give these to you...
::huff of feigned annoyance as he removes, folds up and hands over his spectacles to the interviewer, before bursting into laughs::
Oh no, my wife’s alive and well out in the backyard, teaching our great-grandkids how to identify birds and wildflowers!!....
::a sudden loud blast of classic heavy metal begins sounding from the back yard, rattling several plates and photos on the walls noisily… this is followed immediately by the squealing, cheerful cries from several children of various ages in random shades of pink, brown, and green laughing and screaming happily to the deafening music as they run around a very old human woman, who is head banging as vigorously as she can with a single, wrinkled hand raised up high, throwing the horns in a salute to the sky::
::happy, satisfied chuff of pride::
…hah. Well, that certainly doesn't sound like anything to do with the birds or flowers, does it?
No, that there's her favorite song, the one that was playing when we first met. Look at that, would you? My whole backyard, just full of little metalheads. All of 'em just screaming and dancing around like happy fools.
Oh, and please don't tell her this... but that's my favorite song too.