Humans have been at war with each other for so long that your village decides to turn to the orcs. They'd managed to keep their clans virtually untouched by mankind. They were built like barbarians, had warrior spirits, and were much more advanced than human civilizations. Your village leader makes a deal with the chief of the nearest orc clan, in exchange for protection, his people will be nothing but helpful and at their mercy. But all the chief asks is that the humans try their best to assimilate and that the eligible take suitors if they can (orc numbers have begun to dwindle).
You didn’t expect to find yourself courted by an orc blacksmith.
You didn’t expect to find yourself anything but miserable, married to the highest bidder in this endless war of human kind.
But here you are, perched on a stool in the hot dim room of the blacksmiths forge.
He was a large orc with calloused and cut workman’s hands, bulging muscles flex with every slam of his hammer. Your core clenched tighter with every pang of the metal as your hungry eyes tracked him.
Your orc was the modest kind. He worked hard and still made the time to provide you pastries and iron figurines. He walked you to your tent each night asking for nothing more than your company as compensation.
He was so… different. You had expected to be taken against your will. But not this orc, not even this clan.
You could see now that you’d have to be the assertive one. He was so quiet, and kind. You’d have to put a stop to this modesty and take him for a quick tumble. Claim him for yourself. As your own.
The clanking of the forge ceased. You were tugged out of the salacious thoughts of what it would be like to take such a massive-
“For you” his voice was a deep velvety rumble. Kneeling before you he held an intricate and delicate dagger. Made for a human. Made for you.
“If you would have me… it’d be my honor to take care of you and to cherish you. Will you mar-“ your orc let out a surprised yelp as you threw all your weight into him. Toppling you both to the floor as you attacked him with kisses all over every green inch of his face. Right on to his tusks and full laughing lips.
You were going to be the best partner this orc could have asked for and you were going to prove it starting now.
can you write an imagine where the orc chieftain takes notice of fem!reader after they raided a village and he starts courting her in ways she's not familiar so she's just ignoring him. he got annoyed with the ignoring, so one night, he got so drunk and ended up at her place, he saw her, just finished taking a shower, towel wrapped on her body, he started mumbling how annoyed he is and she just stares at him. then in the middle of it, throws up and ended up sleeping at her couch. she let him, but gets uneasy knowing the chieftain is just outside her room. she approaches her in the middle of the night and starts touching his form. he wakes up, grabs her hand and kisses her. then he confesses his feeling and he ended up railing her so hard she wakes up with bruised cervix. plsss help a girl out
The Way Orcs Love: Part 1 (Orc Chieftain x f!Reader)
After orcs raid your village, the chieftain becomes obsessed with courting you. You ignore his advances because you don't understand orc customs. One night, he is frustrated and drunk, and he stumbles into your home and everything changes...
TW: chieftain/commoner, village raid, drunkenness, courting, size difference, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, emotional, primal, breast worship, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, orgasm denial, P in V, cervix bruising, pain kink, aftercare.
A/N: Hey friend! I'm so so sorry it took so much to work on this. I added extra stuff and I am planning a short, fluffy EPILOGUE too, so I hope they make it up to you!
Also, this request gave me old-time vibes, so I imagined it in a medieval-like setting! I only changed your "throwing up" idea because it was easier to get inspired and write the smut without it. So, our big dumb orc just gets gloriously drunk and emotional. Enjoyyyyy!!
---------------------------------
Three moons have passed since the orcs swept through your village.
You remember the chaos, the screaming, the clang of weapons, the way the earth shook beneath boots the size of your forearm.
But you also remember him. The chieftain. Standing a head taller than his warriors, tusks gleaming, his emerald eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.
And then... nothing.
He took your supplies. Your livestock. A few crates of dried meat your grandmother had salted last winter. But not a single villager died. Not even old Martha, who threw a chamber pot at his head and called him a "green-skinned devil."
He left you all breathing. Bruised, terrified, but alive.
And then he started coming back.
Not with his war band. Not with weapons. Just him, alone, every few days. Appearing at the edge of your house with offerings that make absolutely no sense to you.
A perfectly smooth river stone.
An eagle feather.
A pouch of extremely expensive orcish mead.
A freshly killed rabbit.
You've accepted none of it.
Not because you're ungrateful. Not because you don't notice the way his broad shoulders slump a little more each time you shake your head and turn away. But because what is happening?
You're a weaver. A nobody. You mend shirts and spin wool and occasionally help the blacksmith's wife pull weeds from her vegetable patch. You are human, not a female orc for chieftains to leave offerings.
So you ignore him.
You ignore the way his gaze follows you when you walk to the stream to wash clothes.
You ignore the way he grumbles under his breath when you pretend not to see the wildflowers he's left on your windowsill.
You ignore the way your heart races every single time, because he's massive, terrifying and yet beautiful in that brutal way orcs are.
You ignore him so thoroughly that you've almost convinced yourself you don't care.
But tonight something is different.
You're standing in your small cottage, a threadbare towel wrapped around your body, hair still dripping from the bath you just took. The fire roars in the hearth, warming you up. You're reaching for your sleeping shift when you hear a thud.
Then a groan.
Then the unmistakable sound of someone large and clumsy attempting to navigate your doorstep.
Had you forgotten to lock? Damn!
The door swings open before you can latch it.
And there he is.
The chieftain.
Drunk.
His green skin is flushed across his cheekbones, his green eyes glassy and unfocused. He sways on his feet, one massive hand braced against the doorframe to keep himself upright. His tunic is unlaced, revealing his broad chest and the dark hair trailing down his ridged stomach.
He blinks at you.
Slowly.
Like he's trying to figure out if you're real.
"You—" He hiccups, then points a wavering finger at your face. "You."
You clutch the towel tighter, suddenly very aware that you're wearing almost nothing. "Chieftain. It's the middle of the night."
"Is it?" He squints toward the window, as if confirming this information. "Huh."
"You're drunk."
"Yes." He says it like he's proud of it.
"You should go home."
He doesn't move. His gaze drifts down from your face, lingers on the curve of your shoulder where the towel has slipped, on your damp throat, on the swell of your breasts. His throat works. His jaw tightens.
"Can't," he says.
"Can't what?"
"Can't go home." He takes a staggering step inside, and you instinctively step back. The movement makes your towel hitch higher on your thighs. His eyes track the motion. "Home doesn't have you."
Your heart hammers. "Chieftain—"
"Kolf," he says. "My name. Use it. Please. Please. I'm so tired of 'Chieftain.' I'm tired of you ignoring me. I'm tired of leaving you presents you never touch. I'm tired of smelling you on the wind and not being able—"
He breaks off, swaying again, and catches himself on your table.
A clay cup topples and rolls to the floor.
You stare at him.
Kolf. You don't want to say his name out loud. You are scared it will affect you in ways you wouldn't expect.
"Why?" you whisper.
"Why what?"
"Why are you—" You gesture at him, at the door, at the entire impossible situation. "Doing this?"
"Because you're mine."
"I'm what?"
"Mine," he says powerfully. "I saw you. During the raid. Standing in front of your grandmother. Little thing, shaking like a leaf, but you didn't run. You didn't beg. You just—" He exhales, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "Stood there. Looked at me like I was the monster everyone says I am, but you didn't flinch."
Your throat tightens. "I was terrified."
"I know." He takes another step closer, and this time, you don't move back. "But you didn't run. Do you know how rare that is? How fucking rare?"
"Kolf—" You bite your lips. Damn...now you'd done it now.
"I brought you things. Good things! Pretty things. Things orc males give females they want to court. And you... you just kept ignoring me."
You open your mouth to explain, to tell him that you didn't know, that no one ever taught you orc courting customs, that you thought he was just taunting you—
But he doesn't let you speak.
"I like you! I like the way you hum when you work. I like the way you roll your eyes at the sky when it rains. I like the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, and you're almost always annoyed, and I like it. I like you. And you won't even look at me."
He's standing close now. Close enough that you can smell the mead on his breath, the pine and earth of his skin, the heat radiating off his massive body. His chest rises and falls in ragged breaths. His eyes, that impossible green, are glossy.
"You need to—"
"I'm sorry," he blurts. "For the raid. For taking your things. For scaring you. I didn't.. I didn't know how else to see you. Your village. Your face. I thought if I came with my warriors, you'd—" He breaks off. "I'm not good at this. I'm not good at words. I'm good at fighting. At leading. At taking what I want. But you... you're not something you take. You're something you earn. And I don't know how to earn you—"
All of a sudden, his knees buckle.
You lurch forward, catching him—or trying to. He's three times your size, for god's sake. A mountain of muscles and your poor arms barely wrap around his torso. Your strength is not enough and he's going down, dragging you with him.
But he twists at the last second, curling his body around yours, and you land on top of his chest instead of the floor. His back hits the wooden planks with a thud. His eyes flutter.
"Kolf?"
He groans.
"Kolf!"
His breathing evens out. His massive arms, which had somehow wrapped around you, go slack.
He's asleep.
Face wrinkling, you push yourself up, staring down at the unconscious orc sprawled across your floor. His lips are parted. His tusks glint. One of his hands is still curled loosely around your ankle.
"Damn it," you whisper.
Eventually, you manage to drag him onto the couch.
It takes an embarrassingly long time. He's heavy. Every limb feels like it's filled with stone. But you push and shove and grunt and curse until his massive frame is folded onto the worn cushions, his boots hanging off one end, his head lolling against the armrest.
You stand back, breathing hard, and look at him.
The fire is low now, crackling and the dim light paints his face in warm gold. In sleep, he looks younger and softer. The hard lines of his jaw relax. His brow smooths. One of his hands twitches, reaching for something that isn't there, and settles on his chest.
He brought you gifts, you think. For three moons. And you ignored him.
Because you didn't understand.
Because no one ever taught you that an orc chieftain leaving an eagle feather on your windowsill meant I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.
Because you're stubborn and scared and so used to being invisible that you didn't know what to do with someone seeing you.
You pull a blanket from your bed and drape it over him. He murmurs something in his sleep, a rumble you can't quite make out, and his hand catches the edge of the blanket, pulling it tighter around himself, smelling it, smiling in his sleep.
You should go to your room.
You should.
But your feet won't move.
Instead, you sink onto the floor beside the couch and you watch him.
He likes you.
The thought settles warmly into your chest. He likes you.
And you... foolish, stubborn, terrified you... might like him back.
******
Hours pass. You are in bed but you can't sleep.
You lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the occasional rumble of his breathing from the other room.
Something in you burns.
You are hot and curious.
You want to see him again.
Sighing, you slip out of bed before you can talk yourself out of it. Your feet carry you barefoot across the cold wooden floor, past the hearth where the fire has died to embers, to the couch where he lies.
He hasn't moved. One arm is thrown over his head, the other draped across his stomach. The blanket has slipped to his waist and his tunic is even more open, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the trail of dark hair that vanishes beneath the waistband of his trousers.
You kneel beside him.
And reach out.
Your fingers hover over his chest then, gently, you touch him.
Warm. He's so warm. His skin is rougher than you expected, textured with scars and raised ridges of old wounds. His chest hair is coarse, curling around your fingers as you press deeper.
He doesn't stir.
Emboldened, you trace the line of his collarbone, the strong column of his throat, the sharp jut of his jaw. His tusks feel smooth and cool.
Beautiful, you think. He's beautiful.
Your hand drifts lower, skimming over his stomach. The muscles there tense beneath your touch, even in sleep, and you feel the hard ridges of his abdomen, the V-shape that disappears beneath his trousers.
Your breath catches.
And his hand catches yours.
"Caught you," he murmurs. His eyes open, just a crack. "Been waiting. For you to touch me."
"Kolf—"
"You don't get to stop now." He sits up, and you scoot back on your heels, but he follows. His massive hand engulfs yours, pulls it back to his chest, presses your palm flat against his heart. It's pounding. Hard. "Feel that? That's what you do to me. Every time I see you. Every time I smell you."
"Smell me?"
"Like honey." He leans closer, and his free hand cups the back of your neck. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Like mine."
"Y... You're drunk—"
"Not anymore." His eyes are clear now. "Sober enough to know what I want. Sober enough to know I've wanted it for three fucking moons."
"What do you want?"
He doesn't answer with words.
He kisses you.
His mouth crashes against yours, tasting of mead and something uniquely him. His tusks graze your lower lip, careful, and you gasp against his mouth. He swallows the sound, pulls you closer, wraps both arms around you and lifts you onto his lap.
Your knees bracket his hips. Your shift—gods, you're still only wearing a thin shift—rides up your thighs. His hands settle on your waist, and his fingers dig into the soft flesh there, grip you like he's afraid you'll disappear.
"Tell me to stop," he rasps against your lips. "Tell me no, and I'll stop. I'll walk out that door and never bother you again. But if you want this—"
"I want this."
The words leave your mouth before you can think about them. Before you can talk yourself out of them. They are raw and honest, and he breaks.
"Thank the gods," he groans, and he's kissing you again, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming down your back, your hips, your thighs.
"I didn't know," you manage between kisses. "The gifts. The courting. I didn't know."
He pulls back. His eyes are dark, dilated. "What do you mean, you didn't know?"
"No one told me." You press your forehead to his. "I thought you were mocking me. Taunting me. I didn't know orcs—"
"Fuck." His hands tighten on your hips. "Fuck, sweetheart. All this time. You thought I was mocking you?"
"Your people raided my village."
"We took supplies. We didn't hurt anyone. I gave orders—" He breathes out harshly. "I'm not good at this. I've never—I've never wanted anyone like this. I didn't know how to—" He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. For the raid. For scaring you. For not explaining. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"But I—"
"Kolf." You cup his face in your hands, feel the rough stubble on his jaw, the smooth curve of his tusks. "I'm here. I'm choosing to be here. With you. That's what matters."
He smiles. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He kisses you softly. Briefly. "Bed?" he murmurs.
"Bed."
He carries you to your bed like you're made of glass. Which is hilarious, because two seconds later, he's tearing the shift off your body and staring at you like he wants to devour you.
"Sweetheart," he rasps. "Look at you."
You're naked beneath him, spread across your thin mattress, and he's still fully clothed. Tunic unlaced, trousers straining over his obvious bulge. A very very prominent bulge. The sight makes your mouth water.
"Too many clothes," you manage.
"Agreed."
He strips without care. Tunic over his head, revealing wide shoulders, a chest carved like granite, and arms thick with muscle and crisscrossed with old scars. His trousers follow, and then his—
Oh.
His cock.
You've never been with an orc before. You've heard stories; whispered rumors in the village about what orc males keep between their legs. But stories didn't prepare you for this.
It's massive. Thick and long, veined, the head flushed a darker green, leaking profusely. His balls hang heavy beneath, drawn tight against his body.
"He's friendly," Kolf says, catching you staring. "I promise."
"He's terrifying."
"He'll behave." He crawls onto the bed, over you, caging you with his arms. His thighs bracket yours, and you feel the heat of him, the weight of him. "Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Can't make any promises about the rest of me."
Before you can spiral, he kisses you again. His mouth claims yours, his tongue strokes against your teeth, your palate, everything. You moan into him, wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer.
His hand slides down your body, over your collarbone, your sternum, the curve of your ribs, until he reaches your breast. He cups it, weighs it in his palm, and his thumb drags across your nipple making you gasp.
"Sensitive?" he murmurs against your throat.
"Yes."
"Good."
He bends his mouth to your breast, and you feel his hot tongue lapping at your nipple before drawing it into his mouth. He suckles gently at first, then harder, and you arch off the bed, fingers tangling in his hair.
"Kolf—"
"So pretty," he murmurs against your skin. "Wanted to do this. For months. Wanted to taste you. Touch you. Hear you."
He switches to your other breast, giving it the same attention, and you're wrecked. Your thighs clench around his hips, desperate for friction, for something.
"Please," you whimper.
"Please what?"
"I need—"
"I know what you need." He kisses down your sternum, your stomach, the jut of your hipbones. "Going to take care of you, sweetheart. Going to worship you."
He settles between your thighs, and you feel his ragged breath against your pussy.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Look at this pretty cunt."
You're soaked. You can feel it the slickness, the way your flesh aches for him.
"Kolf—"
His mouth covers you, and your thoughts dissolve.
His tongue is everywhere. Lapping at your folds, circling your clit, plunging inside you. He groans against your flesh like you're the best thing he's ever tasted, and his hands grip your thighs, holding you open and immobile for him.
"Oh—" You buck against his face, and he growls. "Ahh, ghnnn—"
"So sweet. Tastes like honey. Like mine. Could eat my mate's little cunt forever."
"Kolf, I'm going to—"
"Not yet." He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then your mound, then lower. "Not until I say."
"Hgn... that's cruel."
Growling, he continues his attack; licking, sucking, fucking you with his tongue until you're a shaking, sobbing mess, begging him for release. And still, he denies you. Keeps you teetering on the edge, right there, right there—and then pulls back.
"Please!" you cry out. "Please, Kolf, I can't—"
"You can." He kisses his way back up your body, and you feel his cock leaking against your thigh. "You can take more. I know you can, sweetheart."
He reaches down, guides himself to your entrance, and you feel the head of him nudging at your folds.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Yes. Yes."
A little roll of his hips and he pushes inside you.
Just the head at first and you gasp at the stretch. He's so big. Bigger than anything you've ever taken.
"Breathe," he murmurs, kissing your forehead. "Breathe, sweetheart. I've got you."
You force yourself to relax, to welcome him, and he sinks deeper. An inch. Two. Three. Your body yields to him, inch by agonizing inch. It takes forever but at some point, he's finally seated to the hilt.
"Fuck," he groans, and his forehead drops to yours. "So tight. So perfect. Squeezing me like you never want me to leave."
You can't speak. Can't think. The fullness of him, the way he stretches you, the way your body clenches around him have completely taken over.
"Okay?" he asks.
"More than okay."
He laughs softly and begins to move.
His thrusts are slow at first. Each one presses a sweet spot deep inside you, making stars burst behind your eyes. You cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist.
"Look at me," he rasps.
You open your eyes, and he's watching you. Watching the way your face contorts with pleasure, the way your lips part, the way your body responds to his.
"I want to remember this," he says. "Want to remember the way you look when I'm moving inside you."
"Kolf—"
"Mine." He thrusts deeper, and you cry out. "Say it."
"Yours."
Another deep stroke. "Mine."
"Yours, I'm yours—"
He speeds up, and the bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall. His hips piston against yours, and you feel everything—the drag of his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the way his breathing turns uneven and desperate.
"Going to fuck you so hard," he growls, "you feel me for days. Going to bruise that pretty little cunt. Make you remember who you belong to."
"Yes—"
"Sweetheart." He shifts his angle, and you mewl. "That's it. That's the spot. There."
He pounds into you and you feel your orgasm building—not the teasing edges he gave you before, but something enormous. Something that is about to explode.
"Come for me," he commands. "Come on your orc's cock, sweetheart. Now."
You break. Your walls clamp down on him, pulsing, milking, and you sob his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. He doesn't stop. Keeps fucking you through it, keeps driving into you, and the sensation triggers little climaxes.
"One more," he says. "Give me one more."
"I can't—"
"You can."
Reaching between your bodies, he finds your clit and circles it. Torments it. Another orgasm hits before the previous has even faded. Your whole body convulses, your vision whites out.
"That's it," he groans. "That's my girl. Fuck—"
He buries himself to the hilt, and lets out a feral snarl. You feel him pulse inside you, endless ropes of his seed pouring into your pussy. He keeps thrusting through it, shallow now, drawing out every last drop, and you whimper at the overstimulation.
But he doesn't stop.
He can't.
"I'm not done with you," he drawls. "Not even close."
Pulling out slowly, he's rolling you onto your stomach, ignoring the streams of his seed trickling down your thighs. He lifts your hips and aligns himself at your entrance.
"Kolf—"
"I said I was going to bruise you." He impales you and you moan into the pillow. "I meant it."
He fucks you again. And again. And again.
He fucks you on your stomach, on your side, with your legs wrapped around his neck and your ankles crossed behind his head. He fucks you against the headboard, against the wall, on the floor when the bed groans too loudly.
He fucks you until you lose count of your orgasms, until you're nothing but a trembling, sobbing, sated mess beneath him.
And when he finally spills inside you for the last time, when he collapses beside you, pulling you against his chest, you feel it.
That ache. Deep inside you. Where his cock has been pounding for hours.
Your cervix is bruised.
And you can't stop smiling.
********
The Morning After...
Sunlight streams through the cracks in your curtains, and you wake to warmth.
Kolf is asleep behind you, one arm thrown over your waist, his face buried in your hair. He's spooning you, his breathing slow and even, his chest rising and falling against your back.
You try to move.
Ow.
Everything hurts. Your thighs are sore. Your breasts are tender. And between your legs... gods, there's an ache that goes deep. Your cervix feels bruised. And you've never been happier.
"Morning," he mumbles against your neck.
"You're awake."
"Wasn't sleeping." He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Was enjoying you."
"You're creepy."
"You enjoy it."
You elbow him gently, and he laughs, a sound that vibrates through your entire body.
"How do you feel, sweetheart?" he asks, sitting up to look at you.
"Sore."
"Good sore or bad sore?".
"Good sore," you admit. "Really good sore."
"Good." He kisses your neck, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. "That's what I wanted."
You turn in his arms to face him. "You wanted to bruise me."
"I wanted you to remember me." His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs, and you gasp when his fingers find your swollen, sensitive pussy. "Every time you walked today. Every time you sat down. Every time you moved."
"You're insufferable."
"You're mine," he says with a smile. His smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
You pout. "You say it it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like the sun rising. Like the tide coming in."
He grins. "It is. You're mine and I'm yours."
"Yeah," you whisper. "I'm yours."
-------------------------------------
And because I am in love with them, give me a few days and I will write a short, fluffy epilogue, too!
Your feet barely touched the ground before he had you inside his tent. One second you were speaking to him, the next his huge hand wrapped around your wrist, dragging you into the dim, musky space. The air smelled of leather, smoke, and male need—thick enough that your breath hitched.
He slammed the flap shut and turned, chest heaving, tusks bared in something that was not a smile. His eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide, his body trembling with the kind of hunger you could feel in your bones.
“Need you,” he growled, voice rough like gravel grinding against stone. “Now.”
You had no time to answer. His massive hand fisted in your clothes and tore, fabric shredding like parchment. You gasped as cool air licked over your bare skin, nipples hardening instantly under his hungry gaze.
Then he was on you—pressing you down onto the furs, his weight a crushing, intoxicating force. His mouth found your neck, tusks scraping, teeth biting hard enough to bruise. You moaned as his tongue followed, hot and wet, marking you as his.
“Mine,” he snarled into your throat, hips grinding against yours. You felt him—gods, you felt him—thick and hard, already leaking, straining against the rough hide pants that barely held him. The sheer size of him made your stomach twist with both fear and aching want.
He didn’t bother undressing you gently. Your legs were spread wide by his hands, pinned apart as he ripped at his laces, freeing himself with a guttural sound that made your pulse stutter.
You glanced down and gasped. He was massive, thick veins bulging along his shaft, slick with precum that dripped down to his heavy balls. Your mouth went dry.
“Too big—” you started, but he cut you off with a sharp kiss, teeth clashing against yours, his tongue invading your mouth until you were gasping against him.
“You take me,” he grunted, voice low and shaking. “You take all. Need to breed you, fill you, make you swollen with me.”
The words sent a jolt straight through you, heat pooling between your thighs. Your protest melted into a whimper as he pressed the broad head of his cock against your entrance, already slick from your arousal. He pushed—hard. The stretch was brutal, burning, tearing you open wider than you thought possible.
You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into thick muscle. “Fuck—it’s—”
“Relax,” he growled, forcing himself deeper, inch by merciless inch. “You can take it. You will.”
The blunt crown popped inside with a shock of pain and pleasure that made your back arch. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He shoved forward until you were crying out, your walls fluttering helplessly around the sheer girth filling you. By the time his hips met yours, you were split wide, stuffed so full you swore you could feel him pressing against your stomach.
“Perfect,” he rasped, sweat dripping down his temple. “Tight, hot… gods, you’re made for me.”
Then he moved.
The first thrust drove the air from your lungs, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, obscene slap. You screamed, nails dragging red lines down his back. He grunted in answer, rutting into you with animal desperation, each thrust deeper, harder, faster than the last. The furs beneath you grew damp with your slick as he used you, your body trembling from the force.
You could barely think, barely breathe. The stretch was overwhelming, the friction devastating, your clit grinding against the base of his cock with every savage thrust. Pleasure bloomed sharp and unbearable, your moans spilling loud and broken into the air.
“Gonna fill you,” he panted, voice hoarse with need. “Stuff you so full, you’ll leak for days. Breed you till your belly round with my seed.”
The filth of it snapped something inside you. You came hard, body clenching down around him, milking him as stars burst behind your eyes. He roared, slamming deep, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed violently inside you.
Hot, thick cum flooded your womb in heavy spurts, spilling past the seal of your stretched pussy to drip down your ass. You sobbed at the heat, at the fullness, at the way he kept thrusting through it, chasing more.
He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Even as his seed leaked out, he growled and pulled back only to pound into you again, chasing another climax, another release. His rut had no end—only need.
By the time his weight finally collapsed against you, your body was trembling, thighs sticky and soaked, cunt aching and stretched raw from being filled over and over. His cock still twitched inside you, stubbornly hard, as if ready to start all over again the moment he caught his breath.
His teeth scraped your ear, voice rough but softer now. “Not done. Gonna breed you all night.”
Matchmaker x Dick too Big x One Time Deal x All in a day's Work x No Plot
Female Reader x Male Monster
His penis was much bigger than expected. It sprang out from his pants, bouncing before settling into a heartbeat twitch. His face was tense. He shared the embarrassment felt by most of the monsters coming through your door. But there was nothing to be ashamed of. First Love First, your matchmaking business, was successful for a reason!
“Let’s see,” you murmured. You held your measuring tape against his shaft, snapping a picture. Another from underneath to show the girth. “No wonder you came to me.” You wrote a few notes down on your tablet. “It must be hard finding someone who wouldn’t run screaming from this.”
The orc frowned a bit, fidgeting as his cock still stayed erect. Hell, it appeared to be getting even harder than before. The porn video playing in the background was nothing to you. These days, it would take a lot more than that to get you excited. But the orc’s eyes darted from the screen and back down to you as you made more notes.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There are more size queens in this world than you would think.” You took the fabric measuring tape from your neck and wrapped it around his cock just under the glans. A shimmering drip of pre-cum appeared at his tip.
“It’ll be no issue finding you a human woman.” Your eyes focused on that dazzling drip of pre-cum. The head of his cock was slightly purple, flared along the base.
I shiver trickled down from his shoulders to his loins. “That…that tickles,” the orc grunted.
You released the measuring tape a bit. “Sorry, there er-” You glanced at his sign-in sheet. “Earl.” You gave him a smile as you looped the tape around the center of his cock. The pre-cum was spilling.
“No worries.” His voice was tight, dark eyes pointed at the TV screen. “I take it you do this a lot?”
“Mm-hmm!” It was a point of pride for you. You loved your job and the business you built from the floor up. “Several every day. Cocks, tentacles, vulvas, expressers, oviposters, cloacas — I’ve seen them all!” You were quite proud of your work. Lots of monsters were out and about these days. Most of them were eager to find an excellent human to fuck, mate, whatever with.
You tried to reassure him with a smile. “Like I said, no need to be nervous. You’re in expert hands.”
His pre-cum was practically a faucet at this point. “I see. Very interesting,” he grumbled, cheeks a few shades darker.
“Eh. You would think that, but we’re all the same in a way.” You wrote his girth on your tablet and then slid the tape down around his base. He jolted, gasping out loud. His cock sprang into my face, hitting you in the face.
“Oh, no! Oh god! I’m so sorry!” Earl exclaimed dramatically in humiliation. “I’m so sorry!” he grabbed his cock, pressing it into his belly.
You adjusted your glasses, wiping his pre-cum off your face. Some had splashed onto your lips. It was…sweet? You laughed to break the tension. “Hey! Not the first time it’s happened. I’ve had worse-behaved genitalia, I’ll tell you that.” You stood and reached for a tissue, wiping your face.
“Yeah, but I don’t make a habit of doing such a thing!” Earl was still grasping his groin, fretting in place before the white photography screen.
“Earl, Earl, it’s okay.” You placed your hand on his shoulder. “I do have to get that last measurement, though. Think you can control yourself this time?”
Earl nodded shakily. Slowly he removed his hand, and his cock sprang back out, throbbing harder than before. You knelt back down, aiming the camera again because someone had jostled it. You brought the measuring tape down, cinching it around his base.
His pre-cum practically sputtered. People knew orcs for being, well, quite wet. But Earl was excitingly juicy. The sweetness still lingered on your tongue. Was he a fan of pineapple, or was he just the sweetest orc in the city?
You snapped a picture and stood back up, draping the measuring tape around your neck. “Alright, Earl, that’ll do it there.”
“Now what?” He muttered. Earl wasn’t anything special, orc-wise anyway. He was tall, square-jawed, thick and well-toned with hairy arms, chest and belly. He was graying a bit, which showed along his temples and down the center of his chest.
But it was that cock of his!
You glanced at his cock and then back at his face. “Well, if you’d like, I can leave you alone to take care of yourself. We can then finish the pictures.”
He swallowed hard as his eyes tried to avoid yours.
You then took off your glasses. “Or I could help you.”
His eyes lifted, face changing colors. His jaw dropped slightly. “What? Are you sure? I mean-” Earl shifted, alluding to his size.
“I told you, I’ve seen just about everything.” You unbuttoned your top slowly, letting the curve of your breasts appear, the lace of your bra. “Done most of them, too.”
His cock was practically trembling. He was growing more and more excited. “Really?” He was breathless.
You smirked, opening your blouse to reveal the sheer lace of your bra, the top of your soft belly over your shirt. “Like I said. There is nothing to be ashamed of here.” You knelt down on the floor before Earl, wrapping the measuring tape back around his cock. He shuddered, moving back to brace against the white wall.
“You’re a first. I will admit.” You licked your lips. “I've never had one this big before.” You tightened the tape, tugging him closer to your lips. You lapped your tongue over the slit, tasting him again. He was going to be a green apple sucker.
“Miss oh-” he gasped, pressing back into the wall as your lips circled him. He would make your jaw ache, but that was alright. You took him as deep into your mouth as you thought possible.
“Wait! Wait!” His shuddering hand clasped the back of your head.
You didn’t wait. You took, bobbing your head and using the measuring tape to hold him in place. What a sensation! The head of his cock almost choked you, which made you salivate more. His sweetness spread all around your mouth.
“Miss,” Earl was wheezing. “I’m gonna come!”
Do it, you dared him with your eyes. You could take it. Come on, come for me, fill my throat, you thought. You wanted this, didn’t you? To fuck me? Am I your type, Earl?
He was whimpering and moaning, sounding so sweet and pathetic. His back arched, pushing his hips forward and thrusting his cock further into your throat. He was thick, and that wasn’t just his girth. His semen was syrupy and warm. It spilled out the side of your mouth, and Earl pulled from you.
His load dribbled from your lips and onto your breasts. Ah yes, the magnificent orc load. Not as much as a minotaur, but way more than a gnoll. It was satisfying to take care of such a magnificent beast as his cock.
“Feel better?” You stood, going for the tissue box again. “You’ll for sure be in high demand. I can-” Earl was behind you. He grabbed your hips and forced your ass against his groin. He was still rock hard!
“Oh! One of those!” Your laugh came out nervous. “If you give me a second, I can get my office ready for-” Earl pulled your skirt down. His hand then went between your thighs, pressing into your panties to find your core soaking wet.
“Ah! Ha ha!” You panted as his fingers thrust into you, pushing your panties with them. “Earl, that’s quite rough.” Not that you minded.
Earl licked your neck and nipped your ear. His free hand grasped your breast, pinching and fondling the nipple. His fingers sank deeper, curling and playing you like an instrument.
You grasped the edge of the prop table, gasping for breath as he found your weak point. Your knees were shaking, and it was becoming hard to stand in those heels.
“Can I have a second?” You panted. “I need to situate myself. I need to-” Earl bent you over the table, lifting your hips until your mound was flush with his chin. You yelped, stretching out your arms to grab onto the opposite edge of the table for balance.
“Sorry, Miss, but-” Earl’s tongue lapped over your sopping panties. The heat of his breath tickled, arousing you even more. Everything was warm, growing hotter by the second.
“It’s okay,” you grunted. “Happy to um help.” You got that bobbing in water feeling. Warm all over, body free and limp, floating in the great expanse.
“You taste so good,” Earl growled at you. He pushed your panties aside, thrusting his tongue into you. “I haven’t had pussy in so long!”
Your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t quite form words. His finger tapped against your needy clit, stoking it with more fire. “Oh muh gud,” you choked out.
He buried himself deeper between your thighs. Tongue, fingers, vibrating snarls. He would not let you go. It didn’t matter; you will sacrifice the time.
“You’re going to come for me.” Your chubby thighs muffled Earl’s voice. “Do it. Come.”
He didn’t even need to ask. The rumbling of his demands sent you over the waterfall, bobbing, swaying, crashing into a million pieces at the bottom.
“Fuck! Fuck you! Fucking orc! Oh, fuck!” You cried out, sounding between pissed and pained. But neither was the case.
Earl chuckled, setting you back down. He stepped aside, watching, waiting to see what you would do.
“Lay down!” You commanded, pushing your hair out of your face.
He did as commanded. Dick sat straight up like a sundial.
You pushed off your panties and tossed your bra aside. You gathered up your hair, tying it up and away from your face. As you walked towards him, you kicked off your shoes.
You studied him, thinking about the best way to approach this. Oh well, you thought, I’m just going to dive in.
You straddled him, kissing him, licking his lips, sucking his tongue. You rubbed against him, leaving a wet trail on his belly. His hands stroked your back, grasping at you.
You sat up, easing backwards until his cock pressed against your ass. “I’ll tell you when to move again. Got it, Earl?” You tapped your finger to your lips. “Be good.” You sat up a bit, holding his cock in place so you could spear yourself on him.
Slowly. Slowly. You coaxed yourself. You’ve never taken something this big before. How this will go is something you can’t know. Although if you could take two Minotaur, you could do anything.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” Earl was surging as he tried to stay still. He was breathing hard, chest falling up and down rapidly.
“How long has it been?” You teased. “Hmm? What was the last pussy you got to fuck?” You licked your lips, still tasting his sweetness. “Never? Maybe once?”
His eyes shut tight. “A few times. Ah! But I never got to come!”
A little more. Steady! You pressed a hand against his chest. “What have you done since?” You bit your lip. He was filling you to the max! Could you even take anymore?
“Special cocksleeve,” he whimpered.
“Poor thing.” You moaned. “Well, open your eyes now.”
Earl’s dark brown eyes fluttered, seeing you were fully upon him. If you didn’t have such a belly, you might have been able to see him bulging inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” Earl gasped, throwing spittle from his lips.
“You won’t need that cock sleeve for much longer. I can promise you that.” You shifted your hips, grinding him deep inside you. Fuck, he was deep! Was this dangerous?
Earl was struggling to remain still. He was twitching all over.
“I know plenty of girls like me,” you giggled. “Queens who take pride in being able to take monster cocks with ease.”
Earl couldn’t speak. He was jerky and unfocused. His mind was between your thighs and up inside you.
“Boy, do you feel good though!” You gasped. “I almost hate to share. But a guy like you? You need to be shared to get all the sex you deserve.” You patted his cheek. “Now fuck me.”
Obliteration came to mind as Earl grabbed you, holding you down upon him while he shook his hips from below. You saw stars, no; you saw the bright white light at the end of a long tunnel. Was he fucking you to death? Could that happen?
At one point he stood up, pressing you against the wall. He thrust upwards inside you, growling and whining the whole time. Poor thing, desperate to fuck but unable to perform. Until now, at least. Even with no sexual skills, he knew where to drive.
Somewhere in time, he stood before the mirror, holding your legs to show you just how you took him. His shaft made your lips stretch wide open, your plump vulva overflowing. His massive sack was dripping with your wetness. You watched yourself bouncing on him. Great green cock disappearing and reappearing before you.
Your back was against the table, and Earl was on top of you. Deep thrusts had long shaken the good sense out of you. You may have to take the next day off. How long had it been? You hadn’t kept track of time.
“I’m coming,” Earl’s voice was tight.
You whimpered, unable to make a sound beyond nonverbal grunts and wheezes.
His body tensed, sweat glistening on his brow. He clenched his jaw, thrusting his tusks forward. “I’m gonna come! Oh fuck! You’re making me come!”
Yes, he was doing the same to you. Another rush of heat and power toppled you, throwing you into the currents and back down that waterfall. Something warm splattered against your face, your breasts, your belly. More and more of it coated you until Earl dropped to his knees on the floor. His head rested against your knee. His hot breath pelted onto your shin.
You reached down to make sure your vagina was still there. Most of it was. You laid back, breathing, trying to catch up with the flow of time.
“Oh, my god! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Earl was hurriedly darting around the room, trying to find something. “Please don’t be mad at me! I didn’t mean to go so hard.”
You braced yourself on the table, lapping his seed off your lips. You wiped more away before it got into your eye. He made a mess of you, that’s for sure.
Earl was using his shirt to wipe you up. “I’m so sorry, Miss.”
You grinned. “Don’t be.” You pulled him in for a kiss, lapping his lips and up his tusks. “I had a lot of fun with you. And never apologize for a good time. You had fun, right?” You pressed up against him.
Earl’s eyes were wide and shining.
“Let me tell you what.” You stood up, bad idea, your legs almost gave out from under you. “Can you hand me my tablet?”
Earl nodded, rushing over to get it and then place it in your hands. You tapped around the screen, trying to keep from tipping over. “I have a couple of friends I wouldn’t mind introducing you to. Great girls, eager for a challenge. How about I set up a dinner party so you can meet them?”
His flushed face changed color again. “I um. Well…what would…should I bring anything?” he stepped towards you again. “Wine? Maybe some fancy dessert?”
You giggled. “Just bring yourself. That’s all the girls really want.” You were already sending out a message to a group chat. “This is a special service, let’s just say.”
Earl was still fidgeting. He had done all that, and he was suddenly shy again. “Well, uh…thank you, Miss! People really recommended your services. I can see now they were underselling it.”
“Oh, anytime. Really.” You looked over his profile. “I’ll wait to post your profile after the dinner party. You may meet a lucky girl there.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” Earl was nodding his head in excitement.
“Thank me once I’ve done my actual job. Half of the bill will also do.” You said, holding out your tablet so he could make payment.
“Yes, of course!” Earl reached for his pants folded neatly by the photography screen.
“I’ll contact you once I get the dinner party set up. You have my card should you need anything from me in the meantime.”
“Yes, of course.” His confidence was up, which is really what he needed. He practically skipped down the street he was so happy.
Your assistant came in after Earl had left. “Oh, my!” she gasped. “What happened to you?” She went to the closet, taking out a towel and a bottle of water.
You took a gulp of the water. “Just work.”
Your secretary happily mopped you up with the towel. “Are you going to take on your next client?”
“I need a moment,” you huffed. “Can you take care of it?”
Your secretary nodded excitedly. “Of course!” She was eager to help with interviews. Part of the reason you chose her. “I’ll get this place cleaned up in a jiff! You rest now, boss. Leave everything to me.”
You guzzled more water and sighed. “If there’s a way to move around appointments tomorrow, let me know.” You picked up your clothes and went into your office. Using your tablet, you shut all the blinds and dimmed the lights. Laying back on the sofa, you let your body sink down, down, down.
“Oh my god that was fucking stupid” you muttered. The post nut clarity was hitting. You need more than a nap to recover from that matchmaking interview. If you could even walk after the nap.
His tongue? Incredible. You’re almost in tears when his tongue hits a certain spot, and you’re practically seeing stars when his large green thumb rubs circles against your clit.
You want to pull his hair, shove his face closer towards your crying pussy.
You hesitate.
Past relationships have made you believe it’s better to keep to yourself. Stay quiet so he can focus on what he’s doing.
Brows furrowing in frustration, hands balling into fists to keep your fingers to yourself.
You’re going mad.
“You’re as stiff as a board, love. Relax” your orc says as he pulls back slightly. You almost whine from the loss of contact, but say nothing except-
“Sorry”
He stares at you, face contorted into confusion. You’d feel bad, if it weren’t for his thumb continuing its task of rubbing against your clit.
“I’m not trying to pleasure a doll, so show me how much you want me” a smirk graces his face as he licks your juices off his lips.
You want to touch him, to moan and whine. You’re not used to this treatment though. Being loved, being seen, being heard, being pleased.
You hesitate, then decide to speak your mind.
“I.. I want to pull your hair, and- I- I want to do other things… I don’t want to take away your ability to breathe though” you could have worded it better, but how do you explain to someone that you want to hold their head down because you enjoy the power? The pleasure? The satisfaction of having some control?
Your big lovable orc stares for a moment, as if deciphering some kind of riddle. He’s trying to wrap his mind around your words.
“Who say’s I need to breathe?” He questions as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
After that, you’re not sure what happened.
Time was a blur, but now your orc lover was beneath you. Enormous hands lightly gripping your thighs as they squeezed his head. One of your hands gripped the top of the headboard, the other tangled in his silky black hair. Once in a neat braid, now all over the place.
He moaned when you pulled a little harder, clearly enjoying you riding his face.
You knew from here on out you would be more comfortable with enjoying your time with your orc lover between your thighs.
Request: would you be able to write a story with a fem!reader, male orc, and male minotaur smoking weed together and then having a threesome? you can do whatever you want from there:)
Best pussy ever
Orc x minotaur x fem!reader || sharing is caring, dirty talk, breeding || tw: recreational drugs
Spending time with your best friends is always fun, but when one of them has a little bit of extra spice to make it giggly and carefree…
It’s like the whole world crashed into the background, and everything that exists is right here, only the three of you in this room. All three of you are lounging in a big sofa-slash-bed that feels like a cloud under your body as you take another hit and pass it along.
They’re laughing about something, and you are just… quietly listening. Their inhuman voices always dulled you into a sense of comfort that left you pliant and shut your brain to all your worries.
Which isn’t always good, because a silent brain means a brain ready to think about how hot it would be to be the sandwich between your minotaur and orc best friends. And they aren’t making it easy on you, talking about girls.
Your minotaur best friend is sighing in exasperation while he complains about his latest fuck-buddy. “So I told her we wouldn’t be hooking up anymore, but good goddess am I horny nowadays.”
“Dude, don’t be stupid, she was so bad for you.” Your orc best friend was telling him, taking a deep breath and releasing a cloud of smoke above his head, obscuring his handsome green face for a tiny second.
“I know, I know…” The minotaur pouts. “But human pussy is just superior.”
You try not to laugh at their stupidity, but then both of them turn in your direction, arched eyebrows and equally predatory smiles. “Can you confirm that, darling?” Your big green best friend asks.
You let out an incredulous laugh: “I can’t talk about every pussy, but mine is pretty good. Got no complaints so far.” You take another slow breath, the smoke warming my chest.
They stare at you mesmerized, gaping like fish as if I just said something revolutionary. The orc sighs, and his tone turns whiny, his hand repositioning his dick in his pants as you stare. “Damn, darling, I wish I could try it.”
You can’t look away from his crotch, and the words stumble out of you before you can think anything more: “Maybe… Maybe you can.” Did you just say that? Did you just offer your pussy to your best friend? He takes one last inhale before killing the blunt.
“What?! Not fair! I was the one longing for human pussy, and he gets it and I don’t?” The minotaur is ready to break the spell, but his words only make the room more tense in anticipation.
You look between them, your body loose and your brain content, and thinking about it… You want it. You want them. “Well… Maybe you can have a try, too?” You offer him, smiling shyly in their direction and giggling, your brain still fuzzy in the best way possible.
They were speechless, and the orc was the first one to break the silence. “Do you mean it? Like, do you really mean it?”
Do you want to be fucked by two big monsters? You don’t have to think hard about the answer: “Yes.”
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this moment so long,” the minotaur says. You smile in his direction, hoping it expresses how much you’ve been waiting for this, too.
It must have because in less than a second they are crossing the distance between you. The minotaur pushes you back against the cushions and attacks your mouth like a starving man. You feel the hands of the orc on your side, and you moan, your pussy getting wet and making both of them moan at the scent of your arousal.
It’s rushed, it’s needy and it’s fucking perfect.
“Are you getting wet for us, darling?” The orc’s voice is way lower than usual, and it does things to you. Naughty things. Things that only get wetter the second his hand finds your boobs, and he starts groping you like there’s no tomorrow.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
That’s so hot. You are so hot. They are so hot. Your head feels like cotton candy and each touch is like lightning to your senses.
You are losing your mind. Your brain is floating in a cloud, and you can’t focus on anything that’s not their hands on your body, their groping touches and the minotaur’s mouth currently sucking a hickey on your neck.
Clothes fly everywhere, and soon the contact of skin-on-skin is driving you insane with desire to have them in you ASAP. “Who goes first?” You ask, parting your legs to show them your glistening pussy.
They moan in unison, and you smirk at them, your fingers reaching down to rub your clit while they try to hold themselves back. The minotaur points at you, telling the orc: “You go, you’ve been waiting for this the longest.”
“You have?” You ask him, surprised by it. You knew he looked at you all hot and bothered sometimes, but you thought it was just casual.
He leans down to kiss your lips softly. “You have no idea, darling,” he sounds so earnest your heartbeat goes crazy in your chest while he positions himself on top of you.
The second you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy, you let out the longest and most needy moan you’ve ever let out, and they both chuckle. Your brain feels like it’s inside a cloud, and every touch is amplified by a thousand. The minotaur lays next to you, kissing every inch of skin he can reach when you feel the first press of the orc’s cock against your opening.
“Open up for me, darling. Let me fill you to the brim,” he whispers.
It’s like he has the keys to your internal control, because the second the words are out of his mouth, he’s pressing inside and opening you wider than anything before. He’s so big, and so hot, and feels so fucking good you can’t stop babbling, not even sure about what words are leaving your mouths. But neither of them seem to care while they focus on bringing you pleasure.
It takes him a while to get fully inside, but your body is already trembling with the need to come undone. His thrusts are swallow and hard, and he’s hitting your G-spot each single time, making your eyes roll back into your head and your heels dig onto his back.
The minotaur pulls his mouth away from your nipple, licking it one more time before looking at the orc and requesting: “Tell me how she feels. Tell me how good her pussy is.” The way he talks about you as if you aren’t there makes you clench, and the orc grunts loudly.
“Oh goddess. She’s so tight. I’m not gonna last, she’s clenching on me like a fucking vice. Good goddess, darling. Your pussy is perfection. You’re perfection.”
You moan something like a response that ends up sounding like a choked plea, and he accelerates, his hand resting on your lower abdomen, pressing down when his thumb rubs over your clit. You let out a banshee scream when the orgasm hits you, and he’s not far behind, thrusting half a dozen more times and releasing everything he has inside of you.
You are breathing hard when he pulls back, his eyes zeroing on your leaking pussy. “Look at that, she’s so pink and soft. Her hole is still clenching over nothing, so eager to take more…” The orc says, making you clench again, moaning. You just came but you need more. “What a dirty girl you are, darling,” he adds before kissing you senseless.
You feel the cushions around you dip when they change positions, your orc not breaking the kiss while he moves. “My turn,” the mionotaur says, making you two break the kiss.
The first look at the minotaur’s cock makes your spent pussy twitch. He’s so fucking big, you aren’t sure he’s going to fit, but dang if you didn’t want to try either way.
“It will fit,” both of them say at the same time, making all three of you giggle while he sits back. You straddle his hips, his dick positioned perfectly.
You lower your pussy slowly, marveling at the stretch while they are transfixed by the way your pussy is swallowing him. By the time he’s inside of you, all three of you are panting. “Ready?” The orc asks. “Ride him, darling. Ride him like the bull he is.”
The orc kneels behind you, hands on your hips as he moves you above the minotaur, helping you ride him. The pace is fast and deep, pulling almost all the way out before you let gravity impale you onto his dick. You do this a dozen times, but with each new thrust, you get closer and closer to your release. He’s just so fucking big, he presses every single one of your pleasure points at once, and it’s driving you insane.
“Rub her clit. I’m close. Fuck. Her pussy is perfection,” the minotaur mumbles, and the orc complies.
The second his fingers touch your clit, you are throwing your head back and falling onto the minotaur’s dick so he’s as deep as possible when your orgasm hits. You clench around him almost painfully as he bellows, releasing everything he has inside of you.
You lay over his chest, the orc pressing against your back and rolling to the side so they are sandwiching you. Your combined pants are the most amazing symphony to your ears.
“Best pussy ever,” the minotaur says, sending all of you into a fit of giggles, breaking the bubble.
A mighty orc tribe that takes care of you and all their other human mates. They protect you from the cold, keep you safe, bring you food and sweets. They do not dress you up nicely, because that's not really necessary. You mostly stay naked and wear fur only when you leave your cottage. But if the human wishes for finer clothes, they will have them.
The whole tribe is your mate, your spouse, and all the other humans are your spouses and your lovers. You visit each other and make love for hours. Your orc protectors will sometimes watch you, tiny humans, lick each other and moan, anticipating the even greater pleasure. But big orcs won't stay seated for long. They will join their human mates and playthings and fuck them until they drool and whimper and beg for more.
Then the others will come, or the humans will seek others in other cottages and houses, or the orcs themselves will carry them around, like a feast to be shared.
Warm bellies full of cum, pussies moist from need, and mouths drooling and panting - humans provide pleasure, while orcs provide safety and community.
