Brutish Lust

In the early morning hours, Syla crept from her bed. Among her elf-kin around her not one stirred, and though she knew that her footfalls would wake none, still softly did she tread. The tribe that she was staying with currently was a migratory one and, though she was not one of them, she knew that they would judge her for her actions that morn should they discover her motives.

Being a Tribeless, Elven Ranger had its perks: being able to shelter with any elf tribe she came across, open hunting across tribal grounds, and free pick of mates among what tribes she came across to name a few. The issue for Syla was that she desired elven cock not at all. Yes, elven men had their uses, but lovemaking was, most assuredly, not one of them.

No, for her part, Syla desired more bestial lovers, and she had discovered one of great potential very near at hand. 

It had been at a meeting between the current tribe she was staying with and an Orcish Tribe that had made its way into this elf-tribes current hunting grounds. Both sides had displayed their strength admirably during the exchange of goods, the elvan hunters wearing their best firs, and had jumped at every opportunity to display their marksmanship skills. The orcs had sent their most brutish warriors, stripped bare except for loincloths that left little enough to the imagination. Upon first seeing their approach, Syla had grown moist between her thighs, the sight of their muscles rippling beneath green flesh, the sheen of sweat that accentuated every rise and vale of bicep and pec. 

One among them had especially caught her eye. He was young, not as tall or broad as his elder warriors and seemed eager to display his own skill at arms to match theirs. It was an eagerness she hoped would extend to more pleasurable arts as well.

She knew that the younger males of orc tribes were utilized as hunters themselves, before the bulk of adulthood made sneaking through brush impossible. As such, she knew that her particular orc would be out hunting this morn, and though the woods were ripe with hare and deer, it was her desire to offer him a different sort of game.  

Creeping to the edge of the elven encampment, she made sure none of the sentries marked her passage, before diving into the dense growth of ferns that dominated the surrounding forest. Like a thread fed expertly through the head of a needle, she made her way easily through the undergrowth towards the orcish encampment.

As she neared the area where the orcs had made their night’s rest, she skirted south, careful to avoid any watchful eyes or sensitive noses of their own sentries. She headed south because she knew there to be a stream there and she knew that that’s where the young hunter would start his search.

Padding lightly on her sandaled feet, she made her way noiselessly towards the stream, the softly gurgling water drawing her ever closer. Upon reaching the stream’s edge, she carefully peered forth from the rocky shoreline, cautious to keep low among the encroaching ferns so as to not draw his eye too early.

Sure enough, he was there, clad only in his hide loincloth as he had been the day prior, golden rings encircling each of his bulging biceps, his thick, dark hair cut into a long mohawk trailing down his well-defined back. She couldn’t help but bite her lower lip at the sight of him, crouching in the middle of the stream, a shortbow clutched in one large hand, his flat nose flaring, testing the air for scents of game. Smirking hungrily to herself, she slipped away, crossing the stream further down and moving to get ahead of him. Advancing some distance further into the woodlands, she gradually began circling back around, careful to keep low, her keen eyes aware of any movement that might betray his position.

Again, it did not take her long to find him. He was now moving through the ferns at a low crouch, focused in on the trail of some creature. Marking his trajectory, she spied a tree some ways ahead that had fallen against another. From such a position she was sure to give him a sight he wouldn’t miss. Her hungry smile returning, she sped away, quick to reach her chosen spot before he did.

Arriving at the base of the fallen tree, she quickly and expertly scaled its length, pausing occasionally to ensure that he hadn’t yet spotted her. Once she had reached her chosen perch, she waited until his head turned away before hauling herself into place. 

Draping one, shapely leg over the side of the tree, she bent the other so that her loose skirt would slip down and pool along the base of her thigh and around her ass. She ran one hand lightly along the ivory flesh of her thigh as she rested her weight on the other. How she sat allowed her long, silvery hair to flow down her back, as well as drape itself over one of her bare shoulders. Additionally, her pose thrust her large breasts forward so that they strained against the confines of her cropped bodice. It wasn’t long before the orc hunter caught sight of her offered charms and stood gazing up at her, his thick jaw slack, allowing the small tusks that protruded slightly to be more fully revealed. Such a bestial sight set her pussy aquiver and slickened her already wet loins even further. She saw his nostrils flare and knew he could smell her sex from there, something further confirmed by the slight rising of his loincloth.

As he stood there watching, his cock gradually engorging, lifting his loincloth further, she ran her hand from her thigh to her tight stomach and up to pull gently at the bottom of her bodice, gradually exposing to his hungry gaze more and more of her soft, voluptuous tit-flesh.

Just as his loincloth fell away to reveal his massive, engorged orc-cock, she offered him a teasing grin and a wink before rolling from the tree trunk, landing nimbly on the loamy forest floor before him, and dashing away. With a covetous growl, he pursued her, charging after her through the ferns.

Having traveled through this forest many times, Syla knew it well enough to know that a small glade lay ahead of them with a pool at its center. It was to this now that she led him. He was faster than she realized, however, and just as she reached the glade’s edge he was upon her, a strong hand grabbed her heel and sending her tumbling forward. No stranger to combat, she was able to slip her foot clear of his grasp, though he took her sandal, and turn her fall into a roll, coming up to face him, her hair wild.

They faced off for a moment, both breathing heavy, her in a low crouch, his legs set wide, his cock standing as a spear before him, her sandal clutched in his hand. Then, with a teasing smirk, she once more dashed away and he gave chase, tossing her sandal away as he did.

At the edge of the pool he caught her again. This time his arms encircled her lithe form, one about her chest, the other her waist. He crushed her to his heated, sweat-slick chest and she felt his burning rod hard against her thigh. She gasped as he grabbed her, and then anew when his arm encircling her chest gripped her bodice in an attempt to tear the garment from her.

She squirmed in his embrace, managing to get a leg between his, she swiped it outwards whilst throwing her weight in the opposite direction. They fell together onto the soft mud of the pool’s bank and she managed to free herself slightly. Reaching out, she clawed at the water’s edge and attempted to haul herself towards it before his large hands grasped her hips and pulled her back, his cock once more jabbing against her ass, seeking entrance.

Twisting again, she flung her leg over his head but he grabbed it before it could fall past his shoulder. His other hand beneath her ass, he lifted her towards his mouth, her skirt falling aside on its own accord to reveal her glistening mound of curls just as he buried his face in them. Immediately, his thick, wide tongue was inside of her, hungrily lapping at her juices as though he were dying of thirst.

Like a rutted bitch, which was more or less what she was, she knew, she moaned, and the knowledge of her depravity only caused her juices to flow with greater intensity, which, in turn, prompted the orc to lap more hungrily at her cunt.

Cradling the leg he had caught in the crux of his arm, he moved his hand to apply pressure on her abdomen as his tongue continued its tireless assault within her. The mixtures of pressures caused her back to arch and a bestial groan to escape her throat, a sound that was, almost immediately, followed by a shower of juices squirting from her over his face and hair. 

This only seemed to enflame him more and, as a berserker is sent into a bloodlust so was he sent into a more primal state. Grasping her hips in his powerful hands, he flipped her onto her stomach, driving the wind from her lungs and leaving her dazed and gasping, though this was more so due to her recent, overwhelming orgasm than any roughness on his part. 

In her daze, her lust took over and she immediately thrust her ass into the air, her skirt once more falling aside to reveal her womanly charms to him. With a growl, he bore himself upon her, his full weight crushing her into the mud, his hands gripping her hips, fingers bruising flesh and he slid his long, thick phallus into her willing cunt.

She could do not but cry aloud in ecstasy as the orc mated her, his enormous manhood pounding into her sopping pussy over and over, even reaching over her to grasp the banks of the pool to more deeply plumb her depths.

In time, she had no perception of how long, she felt his body stiffen and knew he would soon be coming. A sordid thought overriding the waves of pleasure flowing through her, she pulled herself forward, forcing his cock from her as she did. Twisting her body ‘round, she pulled open her bodice to allow her heavy breasts to spill forth. Understanding her mind, he grasped his member and directed it towards her chest and face. Within seconds his thick, hot orc-cum was splashing onto her soft tits. Unable to contain herself, she lurched forward and grasped his cock bringing it to her small mouth so the last remnants of his load might fill that thirsty hole as well. 

There was more than she had anticipated and, though she swallowed his gooey, salty seed as fast as she could, it wasn’t long before it was running down her chin and pooling with what he had deposited on her breasts.

*                                    *                                 *                            *   

“Where have you been, Syla?” The elvan sentry cocked his head at her curiously as she, sometime later, made her way back towards the encampment.

“Figured I’d get an early bath,” she said, running her fingers through her freshly washed hair. “Far away from you lecherous bastards, wouldn’t want any of you young bucks thinking they could have their way with the Elven Ranger.”

The sentry chuckled at her words, though he was unable to keep his gaze from roving her form. “Best not to wander alone in these parts, though,” he said. “We’ve heard reports from the nearby human village of werewolves roaming the area.”

“Werewolves you say?” Syla cocked her head, intrigued. “I was thinking I’d be moving on soon but maybe I’ll stay awhile, see if I might hunt one of them down.”

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