by Randi Darren
Her fingers gently squeezed him, the firm flesh of her hand sliding upwards before releasing him. For a warrior her touch was surprisingly gentle.
Her nails, a little longer than a mans, grazed up and down along the underside of his length. The simple unexpectedness of the touch made it jerk in response.
Again his body betrayed him, immediately responding to the soft sensuous touch of the warrior woman.
Her hand closed around him once more and with another squeeze of her hand he’d gone to full attention.
Releasing him she swung a leg over his hips. As if it were the most natural thing in the world she pressed her knees into his sides. She then set one hand down beside his head and caught his eyes with her own.
Distracted by the intensity of her gaze he missed it when she she reached down between her legs with her left hand.
Staring into her large black eyes he felt himself at a loss. It wasn’t until he felt the heated touch of her fingers on him again that his brain shifted gears.
Her fingers stopped moving and instead pulled at him with gentle tugs.
Tender fingertips pulled him upwards and he felt the tip press to the soft opening between her legs. Unerringly she guided him into her channel and then slid herself down onto it in a single fluid motion.
Vince felt the tightness of her as she squeezed him. The give of her flesh as she impaled herself.
He caught a momentary flash of pain crossing her features as she settled herself onto his lap at the end of her journey.
Fes took in a shuddering breath, putting her other hand beside his head now.
The incredible warmth of her skin was nothing in comparison to the crackling heat of her core.
Vince stared into those inhuman eyes for several heart beats as she stared back into him. Then the warrior woman began to move herself back and forth atop him. Working him slowly in and out of herself.
Physically unable to respond Vince laid there as she did the work for the both of them. He could feel his heart beat pounding in his chest as his body responded to her determined yet inexperienced ministrations.
Her breath started as slow easy exhalations, washing over his face and neck. Her lips parted to reveal her tongue and teeth. It didn’t take long before the intensity of rolling her hips brought her to deep heaving breaths.
With each and every undulation he could feel her tightening as she got closer to release.
Despite her inexperience she brought herself to a dead pant in only minutes. Her hips working furiously now as she found the rhythm she wanted.
Vince noticed when her big black eyes went wide and started to glaze over as she stared down at him.
Laying his hands on the sides of her thighs with a light touch he gave her what guidance and encouragement his numbed mind offered up.
Unexpectedly to him she sat down heavily on his hips, burying himself up to the hilt. Her waist grinded back and forth as if trying to drive it deeper.
Then her entire body came to a shuddering halt. She held her breath, before letting out a slow raspy exhalation.
Collapsing atop him she closed her eyes and immediately fell off to sleep.
Leaving him hard up, wide awake, and about as deep as he could be in her molten insides.
Staring up at the sky above him again Vince wasn’t quite sure how to take what had happened.
For the time being, all he could do was go along with it.
It’s not like it didn’t feel god. I’m only a man after all. But… with an Orc? That’s… yeah.
Shit, wish I finished.
Chapter 3
Vince had spent the next two nights being cared for by Fes. It took that long before he could even stand without feeling like he’d pass out.
After that he started his long journey back west through the Wastes. To his surprise, and yet not really, Fes joined him.
There was no point in heading east to see if his clients made it. If they did, they could leave with a patrol. If they didn’t, it was irrelevant.
West it was then.
During the day he rested and tried to conserve his strength as they traveled. He checked his wounds frequently and always found them healing quite well. More so than he had any right to expect them to if he were a simple human.
At times Fes would leave for a while and return with food. Both wild game and anything she could forage.
In the short time since their first encounter she’d clearly come light years ahead in her survival skills.
As they trekked west they talked to each other in their own languages. Sometimes for the sake of simply speaking to another person, even if they didn’t understand one another. Other times to begin teaching the other.
They started to pick up various words here and there, though Fes clearly had a better grasp of English than he did of Orcish. The simplest way of course was pointing at items and things, and then naming them.
Most surprising was when they settled in for the night.
Each and every evening Fes mounted him until she dropped, sleeping atop him. Vince wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation but felt no need to try and stop it.
Why should he? It was pleasurable and his only real concern was… well, he hadn’t gotten off. Yet.
Sexual pleasure without a release was it’s own torture.
As to her motivations, from what he could tell they were genuine. The brief flashes from his empathic gift, when he couldn’t control it, only returned emotions of honesty and concern to him from Fes. Or desire.
Whole lot of desire actually.
Enough to make a brothel seem tame. For such a stern and thoughtful warrior woman, she seemed internally driven to distraction by her own sexual wants.
He’d have never guessed.
They made slow progress despite neither of them having much in the way of baggage.
Vince had his sword, a knife, canteen, and an empty rucksack.
Fes had her own gigantic sword of course, some implements for skinning and tanning, and the sackcloth he’d given her.
I didn’t help their speed when Vince was paranoid of any encounter. No matter how small it might appear or remote.
He’d drag Fes into whatever cover was nearby whenever he felt like there might be a danger nearby.
Diving into the foliage he’d pull her in close and wait for whatever perceived danger to pass. Or for his paranoia to pass.
Either or.
She seemed content enough when he did so. Letting him dictate their direction and movements.
The only time she became insistent was right before they’d try to get some sleep. For obvious reasons that he didn’t argue with she always got her way.
And just like that, they passed through the Rocky mountain range as winter released it’s grip without incident.
Vince had a quiet thought in his mind about the fact that this single trip had cost him half a year already. The return trip was almost so quiet he feared what he’d find upon returning home.
He didn’t voice it of course since it would only jinx the whole damn thing.
Once they were out of the mountains things got easier. Wasters were in short numbers this far out.
It became more of a matter of dodging humans out past the mountainous divide. Those humans would happily avoid you as you avoided them, which suited both he and Fes just fine.
The world had never been truly kind, but now it wasn’t even cordial.
Fes had the look of a warrior facing their doom though as they went.
Every day they traveled further into the human lands and closer to the edge of the Wastes, the more she looked troubled.
It also showed at night. Her love making became more and more frantic at night.
Their destination was Vince’s family home so he shared none of her concern or fear. It was actually inside the edge of what would be considered the Wastes.
It was in what used to be a national forest in California to be exact.
His parents had made s
ure to keep the wild animal and Wasteland animal population alive and well populated. They encouraged those creatures to propagate freely.
A forest full of Waste creatures kept other humans out, after all.
He’d grown up in this forest. Knew it inside and out. Leading Fes straight to the two story home through the thick woods and over shallow streams was as simple as if there had been a giant glowing arrow in the sky above it.
Not bothering to show Fes around, or even strip his clothes off other than his leather armor, Vince had slumped into his bed and passed out without a word when they finally arrived.
Waking up the next morning he knew it was pre-dawn. One of the unfortunate side effects of his gifts was a predisposition to wake before the sun.
Looking to his side he found Fes sleeping in his bed with him. She hadn’t woken him up the previous night and had been content to simply join him.
It’d been the first time there’d been no coupling the night before.
Looking around his room he felt a little strange. Once he turned eighteen he’d built the additional room himself. With his father’s help of course. Odd was the only way he could describe his feelings now.
No one else had been in this home since his parents had left something like six years ago.
Except now he had a woman here.
In his home.
In his bed.
An Orc woman.
An Orc warrior woman.
One that seemed intent to ride him like a cheap date every night.
Fes snorted and then let out a loud ripping snore, one tusk peeking out from her lower lip.
Vince watched the sleeping Orc for a second before he gently brushed loose strands of hair back from her eyes.
In response to his touch she tucked her head under his shoulder and snuffled before resuming her dedicated battle against the silence. Snoring deeply and loudly.
No delicate princess here.
Getting out of the bed quietly with a small grin he pulled the covers up over Fes. Then using his best impression of a ninja, he slipped out of the bedroom.
Entering what could be called the living room he found Fes’s equipment in the corner. A quick glance provided him with confirmation that nothing else had changed.
At all.
Haven’t made it home, have ya?
Vince dismissed thoughts of his parents and went to the basement trap door. Opening it looked inside.
“Breakfast won’t make itself,” Vince muttered. Clambering down the wooden steps into the cellar he sighed.
Walking past the jars upon jars of pickled and preserved food he headed straight to the back.
Opening another door he stepped into a room that seemed more like something from a horror story.
Racks upon racks of cured meat, still on the bone, hung from hooks.
His parents had discovered early on that Vince had a number of things that set him apart from normal humans.
The most unusual trait was his ability to take anything he ate, and make it a part of himself.
In fact that was how he’d developed his ability to see in the dark so well. His parents were nothing if not proficient hunters. They brought back any number of animals for supper. Many of which had incredible night vision, or simply better vision in general.
His mother, ever the scientist, noticed that her little boy wasn’t developing in normal ways. Through trial and error, hypothesis and testing, she eventually narrowed it down to his diet.
In the end his mother began feeding him various things to bring about changes. Changes she could track. Such as vision, regeneration from damage, resistance to toxins. Anything that she could attribute to a specific animal, catch, and then feed him.
Not faulting her for curiosity, but instead praising her for helping him to develop his gift, Vince now had a room full of cured meat.
As well as a very healthy and stronger than normal body.
He trained that body with the sword, his mind with the knowledge his parents passed down to him, and his… whatever it was, with the genetic sampling of other creatures.
Setting down to his “breakfast” routine, he began carving out chunks of each and every type of meat in his cellar, and ate it right there.
Eating more than his fill, Vince managed to pull himself out of the cellar before he made himself sick.
Pulling out enough from the larder for a breakfast for Fes when she got up, he’d set it out on the table. There was no way she could miss sight of it let alone not smell it.
Her sense of smell is almost better than my own.
He left his home quietly after collecting his “bathroom kit.” No reason to look like a wild bushman if you didn’t have to. Today would be a good day to get rid of the facial hair that had sprung up during the trip.
Soap, which he hadn’t taken with him. A hand towel to scrub the grit and dirt out and a large bath towel to dry himself with.
He walked in the silence of the dawn to the nearby creek. He hadn’t been able to wash himself in weeks and was starting to feel more like an animal than a man.
Fresh and safe water wasn’t bountiful in the Wastes.
Not to mention he’d need to check the condition of the creek and make sure the water was flowing cleanly. Stagnant water was the quickest way to setting himself for a future failure.
He heard the water long before he saw it. The sound of it assured him that nothing had changed.
One less thing to fix before we have to head into town and register the partial success.
The guild of Rangers would be expecting to hear from him. Their ability to negotiate contracts was built on dependability and transparency.
He’d catch a five gold standard fine for not completing his mission, but it would be refunded if the east coast arm of the guild reported the arrival of the clients.
Vince felt the anger building in his chest for his mission choice. He berated himself for taking an escort mission.
They never worked out for him and he knew it.
Pulling his shirt up over his head he immediately worked to clear his head.
Dropping his pants, ripping his socks off, and working himself out of his boots. Dropping his shaver atop his pants he clutched the soap and hand towel. He was ready. And to clear his head instantly, he dove into the frigid cold water.
It wasn’t ice water really, but it wasn’t far from it.
Spluttering as he surfaced he began to lather himself up. He was a Ranger, not a polar bear.
Dirty polar bear. With an Orc… girlfriend? Slave? Sex buddy?
Thankfully the cold water did it’s job. Both to keep his mind clear of anger and other distractions. Like the Orc he’d started thinking about.
What do I do with her? I have to go into town and check in the guild. Does she wait here? Do I take her with me? If I do, she’ll have to wear a collar. Would she wear one?
Law for both west and east coast was that all non-humans needed to be wearing a slave collar. The magic inherent to them prevented the wearer from doing anything outside of the rules placed on them by the owner of the collar.
He’d found a number of broken collars in the woods. Unfortunately many an owner would send a slave to simply… die, in the woods. He’d encountered a few as they died even.
Trying to render them any aid at all would force them to turn violent.
They were under orders to die after all.
Most of the collars had the appearance of being whole and intact. Functioning.
Except they weren’t. Since the order was carried out successfully the collar would show a positive result, but no longer have any power or spelled rules.
Frowning at the thoughts and coming to no answer, Vince set it aside for now. Taking a deep bracing breath, he dunked himself under the icy water, washing off the soap and lingering trail dirt.
Popping back up above the water after several seconds, Vince let out an explosive breath.
“Good. No stink. Clean,” Fes said from the ba
nk. She was squatting down next to his clothes, her fingers moving through them disinterestedly.
Vince was awful at Orcish apparently. Fes had told him so many times. Truth of the matter was he had no ear or tongue for it.
He was awful at it. Truly awful.
Thankfully she seemed well suited to learning English. Her vocabulary expanded every day and he thought she’d have it mastered relatively quickly at the rate she was moving.
“Being wounded does tend to make one stink,” Vince agreed. Splashing over to the bank he set down his hand towel on a flat rock, the soap going down atop it.
Fes grunted and watched him. Her eyes trailed down his body and then back up with a carnivorous eye.
“Wound good. Look good,” Fes claimed. She reached out with two fingers and brushed them along the healing skin. His skin prickled quickly at her gentle touch.
The wound itself looked far more like an angry scar by now and it pulled at his skin when he moved.
That’d fade with time though.
“Glad you approve,” Vince said, picking up the towel and starting to dry himself off.
Fes nodded her head and then stood up. In a few quick movements she was naked.
The entire time they had traveled she’d never once removed her clothing. She’d been insistent that he strip for her but he’d never forced the same stipulation on her. During their sexual romps or otherwise.
In fact they’d never even kissed or spoken of their nightly sessions.
Picking up the soap and used wash cloth with her right hand she unbound her hair with the left.
Blue black hair fell around her shoulders and face in a shower.
Vince couldn’t help but inspect her green body with a touch of admiration.
And regret that he’d waited this long to get the view he was now afforded.
Despite knowing she was an Orc, he could only see a woman with green skin. Everything about her was more or less human. She only happened to be stronger, green, and a few extra teeth.
That green muscular body was dirty, stained with the road, and the world.
And sexy as hell. An alpha predator in her prime. Lean and fit.
