Spur of the Moment

In all fairness, Anabelle did not know the she-Orc was going to spend in her. She didn't know female Orcs had that anatomy or capability. She had only seen her musculature across the bar and, simply, wanted to be fucked by it.

She knew the stranger would ride out early that morning, so she made her way inside the stables before daylight crested the hill. Leant back against the brick wall in the dark, her upper half pressed to the damp slabs, the cold made her rebellious. She touched herself some, though not enough for a release, and slid a hand under her gown to rub a thumb over the nipple of one of her breasts. She giggled whoreishly. Emboldened by the risk, her mind issued a silent challenge and she drew the sleeves of her gown down her arms, exposing her breasts to the air, fulfilling the dare. She handled both of them with her palms, then ran her fingers under her skirt, between her legs past stubbly hairs, parting her folds. Perfectly wet. She gave a crooning, yearnful moan. "Fuck me," she whispered.

Bootsteps on the grass. Fixing her dress, she looked around the wall. The she-Orc had read her note, then. She probably thought it was a joke, a jest, that she would find the stables empty. Anabelle saw a sword belt on her hip, perhaps she had expected a robber. But the rosy-cheeked, panting young woman she found... That would do. The she-Orc smiled.

"Hello." Anabelle smiled back, knees poking outwards underneath the fabric of her skirt. Although she had asked for this, her voice lilted and rose with her nervousness. Her heart sped. She couldn't help trembling from the anticipation bubbling in her blood. "I hope you don't mind, I started without you. Oh—!"

The she-Orc crossed the stable floor in two great strides. Hands, feeling the sculpture of her winged hips, and a hot, passionate mouth pressed to her own. Her palm found the back of the she-Orc's head. Bone tusks skipped over Anabelle's chin. She considered how they would feel dug into her breasts, marking her up with bruises as evidence of their congress to look back on weeks later, and groaned to wonder. The she-Orc took the opportunity to slip a tongue in her mouth, exploring her amusingly flat teeth, the roof of her mouth, and her own shy, though eager tongue until it reciprocated her movements. She felt like she might fall, giddily delighted. She threaded fingers through the she-Orc's thick, lustrous dark hair. The she-Orc wore a leather harness or sheath of some kind on her shoulder. The buckles bit pleasantly at her soft flesh the more she ground into her taller lover.

"What a treat you've laid out for me," the she-Orc's throaty voice purred, close to her ear. God, it made her wet.

Once their lips parted, wisps of Anabelle's hair were stuck to her temples from sweat. The blush across the bridge of her nose had deepened. She thought it an ugly red, trying to hide her face, embarrassed by how tired the attentions from the she-Orc's mouth had rendered her—she was almost drooling, for God's sake, what must...

"Your name," she garbled. "My awful manners. I didn't ask for your name."

"Rosehip. What's yours, little thing?"

Anabelle laughed at the address. She was far from little in the manner the other village women cared for. Her face and thighs were doughy for lack of a better word, but the excess she was not fond of about herself some days lent precious weight to her chest and gave strength to her arm for a hard punch. She would trade blows with anyone who pointed it out. She trilled as the she-Orc lifted her skirt over her knees, baring her thighs to the sharp, wintry air. She opened her mouth to give her name, but then felt Rosehip's hand rummaging between them, adjusting the front of her trousers. Anabelle looked down, saw what she had untucked from her braies, and forgot all about ever having a name to begin with.

"Oh, my God."

"I'm not frightening you, am I?"

"No. No, I just wasn't expecting that, but it's a—" Rosehip was palming her cock now. Anabelle could have lifted her gaze, but did not. "—nice surprise. Anabelle. My name is Anabelle." Patience be damned, she reached out to touch the head for herself. She stroked up and down the risen length of her, dazzled by the warmth of the she-Orc's cock in her palm, the slightest tackiness over her thumb after she ran it past the tip, and how Rosehip jerked closer to absorb her touch. "That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Hurt?" the she-Orc huffed a laugh. "Not at all."

"Then, you won't mind if I explore some more," Anabelle smiled ditzily, a touch smug, clenching her hand just a bit. She quickened her ministrations, watching Rosehip's expression morph, tauten, bend, and contort in a battle between need and self-control, and oh, the she-Orc's cock grew harder in her palm. Her mouth dropped open, breath puffing forth, eyes flickering under their lids. Anabelle's hand exorcised beautiful noises from the she-Orc, desperate for the rut.

She parted her legs wider, shoulder-blades wedged against the brick. "I think I want you to fuck me now," she said and tore the sleeves of her gown off again, breasts hanging freely. Truly, she wanted the whole dress off, but Rosehip had already stepped forwards to occupy the space between her legs, and there was nothing that could move her anymore. She would be fucked half-dressed in the open, and the thought nearly drove her mad with lust. She arched her back, presenting herself confidently though she shook from head to foot.

Slowly, the she-Orc began to rock. Anabelle lowed to feel a pressure on her cunt, fingers pushing her folds open so the head of the cock she had measured in her hand earlier could be guided into her. The head prodded her at first like someone knocking on a door, asking—here? Here? Her cunt relaxed, a surrendering flutter of her walls, bidding it enter. She gasped to feel herself give way, and looked down to see they were joined, both of them uttering a gratified sigh at the same time.

The beginnings of rain pattered the roof, then crashed down in a squall, drowning out the wet sounds of Rosehip's cock taking her voraciously to the hilt. The she-Orc swung her hips backwards and brought them up, piercing her slick walls of heat again and again. Anabelle couldn't stop smiling. "There's so much of you," she breathed, thighs sagging apart to take more of her in. The she-Orc gave it to her, thrusting harder. The stables echoed with their lust. Rosehip stroked a thumb up and down her engorged clit, pounding her into the wall. She hardly recognised the noises coming out of herself, the quake and tremors of her orgasm rigidifying her. "Yes! Just there—!"

"Now, the slut comes out," Rosehip chuckled, fucking her through it. Her cock was so deep, plunging, filling, irreversibly claiming her.

"Ohhh..." The illicitness of the whole affair, if anyone caught them... Anabelle hesitated, maybe it was too much to ask, but there was something profoundly satisfying about the pleasure wrought from offering her flesh to another, like being worshipped at an altar. Chest heaving, she asked, "Is there a danger—if you finish like this?"

"No danger."

"Then, I want to feel you spend in me."

Rosehip didn't need to be told twice. She tucked her head against Anabelle's shoulder, hunching forwards, feet drilling the earth, her brow furrowing with concentration, and bellowed. Anabelle felt her release. Two short spurts—her cock, confused, seemed to realise Rosehip wasn't pulling out and let go. A prolonged jettison of seed. Rosehip slipped from her cunt, pupils wide with ecstasy. Anabelle, shuddering, felt some of it drip on her thighs.

"Temptress..." Rosehip touched a hand to her stomach above the warmth lingering in her gut that she had put there. The she-Orc returned her sated cock to her trousers. Anabelle's skirt dropped back over her legs. She hid her breasts inside her gown again, tidying her hair with a coy smile. Now, there was nothing to suggest anything was amiss. "I'll look for you when I come back this way."

"That is, if I don't find you first." Anabelle kissed her and swept away, late for the morning's work. She left the she-Orc in a flustered mess. Shaking her head in disbelief, Rosehip went to saddle her horse.