The Story of a Lifetime Ch. 02

"Well," Granny said, setting her notebook down on the table. "This mystery is easy enough to solve. Orcs are extremely... prolific. And while some people assume elf and orc lineages can't mix, that's not quite true."

"Yes, well -" I started, then went quiet at the look she gave me.

"You're far from the first girl I've seen come running to me after spending a night with an orc. Did you come here hoping I would tell you that he wasn't the father?"

"Yes and no," I told her. I could feel a bit of a blush starting in my cheeks. "He could be the father, true. But I'm not so sure."

"Was he the last lover you had?"

"Not by a longshot."

She sighed and settled back into her chair. "Alright, fine. You'd better tell me the rest."

********

The sun rose a bit too early for my tastes, but it didn't seem to care that I'd been up late last night. It shone down with undisturbed enthusiasm, and I resigned myself to being awake.

I looked around and found Roy still snoring, but no Berta. I stepped out of the cart and my legs protested, almost collapsing under me. They ached from their hard workout yesterday, and I moved slowly to stretch them and coax some life back into the muscles.

Finally I was mobile again, and found Berta sitting by the fire pit, trying to bring the coals back to life with some kindling. She looked back at me and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked, feeling just a little self-conscious.

"No, nothing," she answered, turning back to her work.

She got a small flame going, just enough to cook a few eggs over. I tried to pay attention to the breakfast preparations, but kept feeling my attention being pulled to the next camp over. By the time the food was ready and Berta and I were sitting down to eat, Roy was finally out of bed.

"You look like death warmed over," Berta told him, and I couldn't disagree. He was pale under his beard, and his eyes and nose looked puffy.

"Well, thank you for your kind words," he grumbled, helping himself to a thick slice of bread but nothing else. "I feel like my head was caught between the thunder god's hammer and anvil, and I'd like nothing more than to go back to sleep. How far off are we?"

The dwarf and human were bent over their map, tracing our route along the hand-drawn roads. I picked up the few dishes and made my way down to the creek. I set myself to the task of washing dishes with the kind of enthusiasm you can only muster when you're trying not to think of something else, and had them done in only a few moments.

I turned to start my walk back and audibly gasped as I found Davor standing there, leaning against a tree. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, and his typical cocky grin sat across his face. "Morning," he said.

"Gods above, you scared me."

"You called out to the gods last night, too," he said with a chuckle. "Different reason, though."

I shook my head, and started back towards camp. "Are you still going the same way as us?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"For a little while." He gave me a look I wasn't sure how to interpret.

"Well, maybe we can have a drink by the fire again tonight," I hedged, giving him another look-over, out of the side of my eye.

He grinned, big and broad. "I think I'd like that."

We parted ways as we got to the clearing, each of us going towards a different pair of companions. I watched him walk away, enjoying the play of muscles in his arms and back. When I turned back towards the remnants of our campfire, I found Berta staring.

"Problem?" I asked as I set the dishes and cutlery neatly back into their box. She just shook her head and took the box, tucking it away in the back of the cart.

I finished grabbing the last couple mugs sitting near the fire pit, and made my way to the back of the cart. Berta wasn't there, but Roy was sitting on the back, his short legs dangling off the edge.

"Sorry to bother," he said, still looking pale and sweaty. "Would you mind terribly if I took the back of the cart today? You can sit up front with Berta."

"Sure," I told him, not sure how to feel about all this. On one hand, riding in the front would be much comfier than sitting on a bag of potatoes. On the other hand, I'd never had more than a handful of words with Berta, and suspected the ride might be awkward. "Let me just grab my things."

I grabbed my backpack, which was the sum total of my worldly possessions, and climbed up the side of the cart. I watched Berta finish readying the horses, until my gaze was pulled towards Davor like iron filings to a magnet.

He had just finished rolling up his tent, and had just bent down to pick up the long roll. I watched his legs and ass in appreciation as he picked up the bundle and strapped it onto the back of his horse's saddle. He stopped for a moment, looking slowly around as if to check to see if he'd forgotten something. His eyes met mine as he turned, but this time I didn't look away.

He gave me a slow nod, which I returned.

Then Berta was loudly clambering onto the cart's seat, and I looked away from the orc, embarrassed again.

The lady dwarf settled in beside me, grumbled out a quick "Ya ready?", and then shook the reins before I'd even answered. The horses dutifully started into action, starting with a nice leisurely pace until the cart had some momentum, and then picked up to a trot.

I sat beside Berta, and a gulf of silence stretched between us. I tried a few of the basic social niceties, asking how long she'd known Roy, how she got into this business, where she was from, and got little more than grunts and monosyllabic responses for my efforts. Even when I asked about her clan and family, which is enough to get most dwarves on a long monologue, she didn't use more than one breath to answer me.

And so we were silent.

I spent my time watching the scenery go by, checking behind me to make sure the orcs were still following, looking at my map to see how close I was to my next stop, checking behind us, trying to spot rare birds, and looking behind us to see Davon.

After the sixth or twentieth time I looked over my shoulder at our orc companions,

Berta sighed.

"Something you want to say?" I shot in her direction, and she shrugged.

A few more moments stretch by, in awkward silence, before she finally spoke. "You seem to be pretty chummy with those orcs."

I waited a moment to see if there were more words forthcoming. When I decided that was probably as much as she was going to say, I answered with a simple "Yeah."

She nodded slowly, then turned to stare at me. "Look, kid," she said, as if I wasn't almost thirty, "you're sweet. Don't get mixed up in the wrong crowd."

"Wrong crowd?" My mouth asked before my brain caught up to it. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Look," she said with another sigh. "Orcs can seem fun, or exotic, and maybe their whole aggressive brute thing can seem appealing. But you're gonna get yourself hurt."

"Well, that's phenomenally racist."

She shook her head, and we rode in silence for another few beats. "It's just realistic. They don't think like us. Maybe that's racist, but it's no more racist than you seeing a group of 'em and reducing them to just an exotic screw."

I blinked rapidly, shocked. "An exotic..." I shook my head again. "Lady, you need to get your head screwed on a bit tighter."

She blew an irritated breath out through her nose. "You're fetishising 'em. It's no different from me being wary of 'em."

"I'm not fetishising anyone," I told her sharply. "Davor was sweet, he was interested in me and I was interested in him. Whatever came of that has nothing to do with fetishising a whole people, and nothing to do with you."

She said nothing, and we rode in silence for a time again.

"They're not brutes," I finally said, knowing that I sounded sulky but unable to help it.

"No?"

"They're just people," I told her, speaking slowly. "They're not good, and they're not bad. They aren't all heroic, or savage, or cruel, or stupid, or smart. They're just... people."

She was silent, and I glanced behind me a few times to see Davor. He'd obviously heard that we were arguing, and he gave me a head tilt as if to ask what happened. I just shrugged.

Berta and I didn't speak for the next few hours, which was fine by me.

Finally, it was mid-afternoon, and we stopped at a wide crossroads for a break. Berta clambered back down to check on her boss, and I went for a short walk to stretch my legs.

I wasn't surprised to find Davor moving in my direction, and I slowed to let him catch up.

"Fun ride?" he asked.

"I've had better." He chuckled, and I blushed slightly as I realized the double-entendre. "You know what I mean."

He nodded, and we walked silently for another few moments. This silence felt much more comfortable, although there was a different kind of tension in the air.

"Your cart's headed East, right?"

"I guess," I told him with a half shrug. "I'm not going the same direction, though. My destination's South, so I'm splitting off from them here."

He stopped short. "You're going the rest of the way on foot?"

"Sure. I've walked a couple dozen miles in a day before. It'll just take me another few days on foot to get to the edge of the Old Woods."

"Well, you're in luck," he said with a smile. "We're also going South from here for a day or two. We could go together."

I felt my lips curving up into a smile to match his. "Well, you do make for nice company. I'd be happy to go along with you. For a time."

He grinned, and we parted ways. I went back to my people, Davor to his.

Roy was standing beside the cart when I got back, looking better with a hint of color returned to his cheeks. He waved to me and came over to meet me halfway. "This where we part ways?"

I nodded. "South along the Highever Way for me."

"And we'll stay on the King's Road," he added. "It's a shame to see you go. You're a deft camp hand, and nice to have around."

I laughed and shook my head. "I've got big things ahead of me, Roy."

"Aye," he said, squinting at me. "I reckon you do."

I shook his hand and gave a wave to Berta. She nodded back, which was about as nice of a gesture as I could expect from her.

I turned and strode towards the trio of orcs, and found Davor re-attaching his tent and bedrolls to a different horse. Mazon was the first to see me, and he gave me a wave and grin, and elbowed Ausk.

"All set?" Davor asked as he tightened the last strap.

"I'm ready when you are."

He nodded at the saddle, pleased with his work, and gently laid a hand on my arm to lead me to the third horse. All the packs had been taken off of it, leaving just the saddle. Davor put a foot into the stirrup and leapt deftly into place. Then he reached a hand down to help me up.

I didn't need help getting onto a horse, even one as massive as this, but I took his hand anyway.

I swung a leg over as he pulled my arm, and I settled in smoothly in front of him. The saddle wasn't really built for two to ride, so I was pressed quite hard against him. I shifted around a bit, trying to settle my weight, before deciding we were as comfortable as we would get.

"Ready?" he asked, his breath hot on my ear.

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and he reached his arms past me to grab the reins. With a slight shift in weight, he had the horse moving again. I looked over my shoulder at him, and found him smiling with his signature toothy grin. Behind him, I could see Mazon and Ausk fall in line, and behind them I saw the cart start rolling in the other direction. I turned my attention back to the road, and didn't even watch the cart disappear from sight.

I tried to focus on the road, and the scenery, but all I could think about was the weight of Davor behind me. This was going to be a long ride.

"Why are you going to the Old Woods?" he asked as he rested a hand on my stomach.

I felt a bit of heat rise up in me in response to the touch, but it didn't go further. "I want to meet the fey."

I felt his chest shake with his chuckle. "Why in the world would you want to do that?"

I was silent for a few moments before answering. "My granddad used to tell me stories about the fair folk when I was a little girl. About the time he met the fair folk in that area. I've always wanted to go, see the wonders he told me about."

"You know it's not all wonders, right? They can be nasty."

"I know," I told him, smiling to myself. "They can be smart or stupid, kind or cruel. But I want to meet them all the same."

It was his turn to be silent for a time. Eventually he started speaking again, and he told me about his clan and his family. I learned about where he grew up, and how Mazon and Ausk were like brothers to him.

To my surprise, time seemed to fly by as we rode and spoke. Before I knew it, the sun was nearing the horizon, and it seemed like a good time to break for the night.

The three set up camp quickly and efficiently, all three of them working on one tent and then the next. I got a fire started, sparing the occasional glance at the orcs as they worked.

I had to admit that the three burly men laboring and bending over was a nice bit of scenery.

By the time the fire was burning merrily and the dried meat was reheated, it was already dark. We chatted amicably for a time, but there was a kind of tension in the air, like every look was charged and every word was laced with double meanings.

"Well," I said, finally breaking a silence that had built up. "It's been a while since I've ridden a horse, and I'm beat. I was thinking of turning in for the night." I looked from the three orcs to their three tents. "Where am I..."

"You can take my tent," Davor offered immediately. "On a clear night like tonight, I can sleep outside just fine, or share Mazon's tent."

"Nonsense," I told him, checking out the tent. It was a lot bigger than any I'd ever lugged around, but I guess a race of people who tend to be about seven feet tall would probably make tents of a similar height. "I'm sure we can both fit."

The three orcs chuckled and laughed in the way that men do when they're in a group, and Davor grinned at me. "Guess I'm pretty tired, too."

He stepped past me as I was getting up, and held open the tent flap for me like he was a gentleman helping a proper lady into a carriage. I did a false curtsy, holding out the edges of a pretend dress, then stepped past him and into the tent.

It was dark and hot in the tent, which looked big enough for two or even four people. I blinked to adjust my eyes. Davor stepped in with a lit candle that helped with the darkness but did nothing for the heat.

I started undressing, then looked back at Davor. A moment later I realized I had nothing to be sheepish about. He'd already seen it all.

So I unbuttoned my coat and slid it off, folding it into a neat pile on the ground. I pulled my shirt off over my head, and it joined the coat. I had my pants undone and half down, when I felt Davor shift to stand behind me. I was in nothing but my underthings and bent over, but somehow I didn't feel like rectifying the situation.

He stepped closer until his hand was resting on my hip. He pressed himself against me, and I could feel his hard length nestled against my lower back. I sighed in pleasure and anticipation.

I looked back over my shoulder and found him shirtless, grinning like a wolf as he took hold of both of my hips with his hands. He pulled me back against him, and I felt gooseflesh trickle down my arms and legs. He cocked an eyebrow at me, and it was my turn to give a seductive smile.

Still bent over, I pulled the bandeau off of my chest and laid it on the pile, leaving my breasts open to the air.

His hands slowly slid up my hips, as if magnetically pulled to my chest, and I wriggled my barely-covered rear against his crotch.

He gripped me by the hips and pulled me hard against him, and I sighed in frustration at our poor alignment. "You're a bit too tall for this to work right," I told him, giving him a look over my shoulder. "Maybe you should come down to my level."

"Yes, ma'am," he told me, grinning even wider and dropping to his knees. His hands moved back down past my waist and my hips, clutching my upper thighs and slowly moving their way back. He pressed his lips against one side of my ass, gently kissing the flesh.

The contrast of his smooth lips and his sharp tusks trailing down my skin made me shudder.

When his hands moved slightly further down, nearing the juncture of my legs, I stepped out of my pants to widen my legs, almost automatically.

He chuckled lowly against me, and his lips made their way up and down, and over, leaving a trail of kisses over my rear. I sighed again in pleasure and anticipation. Both of those feelings grew when I felt his fingers hook under the band of my underwear and pull it down.

I was bent over, naked and fully exposed to this worked-up orc, and fully ready for whatever might come next.

His mouth travelled a little lower and a little lower, coming to rest almost against my folds. The tips of his tusks pushed at my flesh, and we both sighed in frustration at the realization that they would stop him from being able to reach my wetness from this angle.

"Hmm," he said, mostly to himself. "This might be easier."

With one sudden motion he dropped down to his back on the bedroll, pulling me down on top of him.

I whooped in surprise as I went, landing squarely on his muscled chest.

"Davor!" I reprimanded, but he just laughed.

"Try and get your knees under you," he suggested, and I complied automatically.

"There. Now come back a little."

His hands on my hips pulled on me to guide me backwards, and he led me until my pelvis was over his face.

"There we are," he whispered, his hot breath making me shudder. "Isn't this a little nicer?"

And then his lips were on my folds, and my breath rushed from my body. He kissed my labia and gingerly sucked one side into his mouth, and I almost swooned. Then his tongue was on me, stroking the length of my slick entrance, and up to my swollen clit.

He passed over that nub and I moaned out loud. It was embarrassing that everyone outside would know what was going on, but I couldn't help myself.

His tongue passed back and forth over my clitoris, building up a rhythm.

Shivers rocked my body as I knelt over his face, and I found my hips automatically starting to thrust towards his mouth. He sucked at my pearl as he flicked his tongue over it, and I felt my heart race and my blood thrum.

My eyes fixed on his triumphant bulge, and I decided that I needed some equality. I reached with shaking hands to the cord that fastened his pants, and undid it as quickly as I could. I shoved roughly at the fabric until his length sprung free. I was again thrilled by the sight of his rigid member and the feeling of it in my palm. It was longer and thicker than any I'd ever experienced before, and the color contrast of his dark green flesh against my pale pink hand was hypnotic.

But I was in no mood to stare as Davor steadily flicked his tongue across my sex. I leaned forward slightly and angled his cock towards my face, pressing my lips against the tip.

As I slid my mouth over the head of his cock, I realized this was the first time I'd blown him. The first time I'd blown an orc ever, actually. And when I slid my lips along his shaft and he moaned against my inflamed sex, I realized I'd been missing out on a lot of fun.

From my angle I couldn't get much of him into my mouth, but that was just as well: if I tried to swallow his whole length I would probably choke!

His tongue passed over me again, back and forth, and it was my turn to moan onto him.

I picked up my pace, bobbing my head and tasting the thick flavor of his precum. My jaw was stretched wider than was comfortable, but there was something intoxicating about the feeling of having him in my mouth. I moved my tongue back and forth along the underside of his shaft, and his whole body tensed.