An Orc at College: A Contemporary Sword and Sorcery Harem Fantasy

by Liam Lawson

  Winnie gave a nervous giggle as they were seated and Trorm ordered them both glasses of wine, speaking only after the server left. “I was afraid I was going to be, like, overdressed. You know?” She glanced around. Trorm could tell, even without his sunglasses, that she was nervous.

  “I don’t,” Trorm said. “But I think you look attractive and desirable.”

  Winnie’s ears quivered.

  The wine came and she took a gulp of it as soon as the server departed. “That’s…I meant I…Trorm, this is a lot.”

  He shrugged. “You are worth a lot. Sex with you is more than gratifying and you are a kind, generous, and savage person. I am glad to know you, and more glad to be with you in whatever this kind of relationship is called.”

  That last earned a giggle. “This kind of relationship?”

  Trorm shrugged. “For all my studying, actually being here is very different. Determining the appropriate label is difficult and I did not wish to presume upon ours without at least consulting you.”

  One ear twitched as she considered his words. She looked as if she was about to tease him about it when a thought struck her and she sat up straighter. “Did you just call me savage?”

  Trorm nodded. “Watching you manically crush your foes with a smile on your face was one of the most attractive sights I’ve ever seen. I am honored to have fought beside you and glad you are my war-kin and not my enemy.”

  For a moment, her ears dropped, then they perked back up. “You…actually thought seeing me lose my shit was like, hot?”

  “That is what I said.”

  Winnie fell silent. The server came and took their order, turning first to Trorm. He ordered a large steak and Winnie told the waiter she’d have the same. Trorm gave her a funny look, which made her laugh. “What, you expected me to get some kind of rabbit food?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “You don’t prefer salad?”

  She shrugged, offering him a grin that showed her slight overbite and dripped with mischief. “What can I say? I’m feeling savage.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “Besides, I happen to be a fan of your meat.”

  It took Trorm a moment to process her meaning. Not because the wordplay was especially difficult to follow, but because it was so unexpected. When it did register, it made him freeze for a moment in place, even as an utterly primal piece of his soul howled in gleeful triumph. By the time he’d recovered, Winnie had slipped silently and discreetly beneath the table, completely concealed by the floor length white tablecloth draped over the sides.

  A moment later he felt her pushing his knees apart and crawling between them, her delicate hands undoing his belt and fly. His growing erection brushed against the underside of the table before she could pull it down. Trorm clenched his teeth in an effort to swallow the groan of pleasure welling up from his chest as her soft fingers wrapped around his shaft.

  “I just can’t get over how big you are,” Winnie whispered, voice barely audible. “It’s like the gods said, no one just isn’t enough, let’s squish two more into it.”

  Trorm was torn between his imagination’s unwanted efforts to visualize that disturbing mental image and the primitive, masculine pleasure that her admiration sent surging through him. The conflict was ended a second later as her hand began stroking up and down his length. The wet, softness of her tongue began caressing the underside. Winnie worked her way from the midpoint to the tip of the helmeted head, leaving a cool trail of saliva. She let her hot breath blow over him, then tried taking the head in her mouth.

  He could feel her struggle to open wide enough to take it in. Her teeth briefly brushed over his flesh before she could control herself, and then she had the tip of him in her mouth. She sucked, tongue lashing.

  Trorm’s fist clenched on his napkin. He cast about, wishing he had something better to hold onto. There wasn’t anything. Holding the chair would give him away and everything on the table would break in his grip. The table! His hands found the edge and he faintly heard the wood groan in protest beneath his fingers. With an effort, he kept his mouth shut, lest any sound escape him. He hoped that anyone who managed to catch a glimpse of him in their hidden corner wouldn’t notice his hard breathing.

  Winnie pushed forward, filling her mouth with him. Trorm felt the head of his member meet resistance. Winnie kept pushing. He slid further in, pushing past the resistance. Her lips slid another inch down his shaft. It took every ounce of concentration Trorm had not to grunt or cry out.

  “Hey Trorm,” said a familiar voice that made him jerk upright, letting go his hold on the table.

  Distracted as he was, he hadn’t seen Abigail approach their table. She didn’t look out of place, wearing a small black dress that had a dangerously low neckline. She pushed a blue braid back over one shoulder, offering him a shy smile.

  She hadn’t caught them. If she had realized what was going on, she’d be looking…not whatever it was she was looking. Trorm wished he was wearing his sunglasses. Abigail seemed an odd mixture of shy and confident that was very appealing.

  “Hi, Abigail,” he said stupidly, then nearly spasmed.

  Winnie, who had ceased her oral ministrations at the sound of Abigail’s voice, started up again, forcing her mouth to take another inch. Trorm dearly wished he hadn’t released his hold on the table. Grabbing it now would be obvious.

  “Just so you know, Mom and Lilian have been trying to get in touch with you,” Abigail said.

  “Oh?” Trorm asked, hoping it didn’t get stretched out too far.

  Abigail nodded. “Yup. Look, I know you’re on a date, but you really should give them a text or something. Mom wants to make sure you know curfew’s midnight after the whole Arlen thing.” She shuddered at his name but kept on going. Trorm was impressed with how resilient she had proven. Killing one’s first enemy was never easy and could leave one with scars inside. “And I’ve no idea what Lilian wants. She wouldn’t say. But when I last saw her she was staring at her phone like she could make you call her back with her mind or something.”

  Trorm nodded. “Thank you. Umm…did you come all the way here to tell me that?”

  Abigail nodded. “I did, actually.”

  “H-how did you know where I was?” It was hard to think rationally. Winnie had begun bobbing up and down his length, taking him in slightly greater depth each time. Her lips, tongue, and hands coaxed out so many blissful sensations that they all but suffocated Trorm’s mind.

  “I tracked your phone,” Abigail said flippantly.

  “I-I turned my phone o-off.”

  Abigail gave him a look he couldn’t read. “I know.” She smiled when she said it. Did that mean she was pleased or amused with something?

  “Th-thank you for coming in p-person to tell me,” Trorm said, voice ragged.

  “No problem,” Abigail said, turning to leave. “See you later tonight, Trorm.”

  “See you later,” he replied.

  She hesitated a brief moment, then glanced at the table. “Bye, Winnie. Enjoy your date.”

  The sucking on Trorm’s member vanished. He could practically feel the stillness beneath the table. “Thanks, Abigail,” Winnie said from her hiding spot.

  Abigail left and Winnie attacked Trorm’s length. She seemed to have taken Abigail’s spotting her as some kind of challenge because her enthusiasm for the task seemed to triple. She sucked, slurped, stroked, and in a matter of moments, Trorm was forced to grip the edge of the table again as he exploded.

  When he regained full faculty of his senses a short while later, Winnie was seated once again across from him at the table as if nothing had happened. Only her smirk suggested otherwise.

  “I like her,” Winnie said, gesturing with her head in the direction Abigail had left. She reached across the table and laid her hand atop Trorm’s own, looking into his eyes. “We are going to have so much fun together, Trorm Coldstorm.”

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