A night of drunken fun.
#14 of Writing Prompts
This week's writing prompt was "It didn't seem like such a bad idea after a few drinks." This little story came out of it. A part of me is feeling bad because I didn't go all the way into the smut, but I think 2,2k words is a good place to stop for this prompt. I'll try to continue it on another instance. Comments, critiques and corrections are all accepted.
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The warmth of his body against mine. His tired back relaxing as it touched my chest. My hands shifting under his to him in a tender embrace. His tense muscles soothed by the soft kisses I planted on his neck and the calming circles my hands traced on his stomach. A low humming came from him, an impromptu performance he liked to indulge in. An all too clear sign of his comfort. I started to whistle a tune for him, filled with long low sounds, harmonizing with his song. He shifted a little in my hold, slowly looking for the most comfortable spot, like a cat getting ready for a nap. Soon my caresses marched to the pace of his lazy tune, they went from hard to soft, from quick to slow, from deliberate to random at his command. And with each touch, he let himself relax more and more, laying down on me as he lost himself in our ritual.
A quick look at his face, and I knew he was enjoying the treatment. Without the weight of the world on his shoulders, his face would take on the most silly and cute expressions. Bringing a gentle smile to my face as I brought him closer to me.There were no furrowed brows, no more tusks bared in challenge, just a goofy grin that did not match his rugged features. It was an expression only I would see, a special gift he only granted to me. Nobody would think him capable of such domestic and simple pleasures, let alone indulge in them as often as he did.
To the world, just one look at my beloved, one take of his athletic body and steel like muscles, one hint of his sharp pale yellow tusks, was enough to brand him a menace. It didn't try to gleam anything beneath his ebony skin. He was a trog, an ork if they were polite, a danger to society, a beast that couldn't die fast enough. My beloved's joy when he finished a program on his deck, his euphoric shouts after he broke through a firewall, his constant feeding of the cats behind our apartment. None of it mattered to them. But I always shared his joy, congratulated him on his triumphs and helped him through his failures. In return, he would fill my life with so much glee and zeal for living. It was all a part of the strange dance we had fallen into.
To the rest of the world he might be a mistake. A giant mistake with his 1,93m. But for me, he was just small enough for me to rest my chin on his head whenever we hugged, his unruly hair tickling my neck. He was sturdy enough, that I didn't have to worry constantly that I would hurt him. If there ever was a dream package for a troll like me, my beloved fit the bill to a T. Smart, funny and a lover of TLC. He was everything I could ever want, well, except for one thing.
For the year and a half we had been together, we had founds ways to make it work. Chores were split, ground rules were set up. A good communication was the part we struggled the most, what with years of repressing our feelings to survive out there, but we managed to do it. We even had the whole meeting the family gig. The one thing that we never figured out was sex. Sure, there had been foreplay, handjobs and a few blowjobs, but all the time, there had been a silent agreement to keep things simple or risk killing the mood.
It wasn't that we didn't want more, the bashful looks he gave me from time to time were enough to discard that line of thought. No, it was more that we were...incompatible when it came to the actual deed. I knew what I liked, taking a man into me, riding him for all he's worth, teasing him while he's on the edge and then relish in the emotion that came with release. Those were the moments I loved. Fucking someone else never gave me the same rush, and I had seen enough porn in my ork's 'link to know he liked to be on the receiving end as well. This problem constantly troubled my mind, I knew it was a silly problem, one that could be resolved easily with a small talk, yet, we never tried to broach it.
"Is something wrong Dave?" my mate asked in a soft voice, shifting around in my embrace to get a good look at me.
"Hmm? No, nothing wrong love. Just thinking" I replied with smile.
"You sure? You just stopped there for a second. Didn't even answer when I called your name."
"Sorry, I just, got lost in my head. It's nothing, I promise." His brow furrowed for a moment, eyes focused on mine. A soft huff coming from him, before he got up. He stretched his arm as far as he could, a few popping noises coming from his arms.
"You're free tomorrow, right?" I gave him a quick nod. "Great, so there's no problem if we drink some of that Hurlg."
He sauntered towards the fridge, opening the door with a sure hand. He shot a devilish grin at me as he took out a large metallic recipient. A pair of glasses soon joined it on the wooden table. A part of me was already regretting buying that foul drink, and another part had me walking towards the table. The smell of alcohol was heavy in the air as soon as my ork opened the metallic bottle, enough to send a slight tingling through my lips. It was no wonder the only dwarves, orks and trolls even tried this stuff. I doubted humans could survive even one cup, let alone the tall glasses my Carlos was filling. The transparent cylinders were soon full with a whitish liquid, small bubbles of air coming to the surface before popping.
"Bottoms up. No cheating this time." He said with finality, his hand closing around one of the glasses.
"Bottoms up. No regrets." I agreed with some reluctance. Vague images of the last time I had drunk Hurlg replaying in my memory.
He flashed me another smile, and without any more preamble, we brought the glasses to our mouths. The liquid burned down my throat, fire quickly settling in my stomach. The vertigo came next, my hand settling on the table for some much needed support, the world going silent for a moment. It quickly gave way to the pleasant buzz that only Hurlg could give me. A couple of coughs rocked my body, as the sour aftertaste of the Hurlg hit me. A laugh filled my ears next, my eyes setting one the figure of Carlos, doubled over in laughter. A rosy tint colored his cheeks while his empty glass lied next to him on the table.
"You, you never get used to it, do you?" he said between laughter.
"And I hope I never do, one of us has to have a healthy life." I replied in mock shock. "Imagine the bills if we both need to get a synthetic liver."
"Come on, a few glasses of Hurlg haven't killed anyone."
"Tell that to the human at Joe's. He hit the ground faster than a runner found by Lonestar."
"Lies, they're all lies spread by the breeders about our holy drink." He claimed as he refilled our glasses.
"Aren't you hitting that bottle a little too hard?"
"Well, you know how I like my things hard," He told me while a hand went up to grope at my defenseless chest. "Besides, it's the weekend, what could go-"
"No, don't say. Don't jinx us." I warned him with a short growl. Another grin adorned his face, making him look even more handsome. "No, no, bad ork."
"I'm not a dog Dave." He said with mirth on his voice. "But, if you're so against it, we can wait for a bit."
"We can? What's the catch" his wolfish grin widened, closing the distance between us.
"Well, I just need to be distracted." he told me, his fingers walking up my chest. A low growl forming at the bottom of my throat as my hands took a hold of his face and brought him closer for a kiss. It was a quick touch that send electricity down my spine. I gave him another kiss, our tusks clashing for a second before we found our rhythm. I sucked at his lips, nibbled at them, asking for entrance. A moan left his body just as I felt a hardness rub against my leg. His lips parted, my tongue slipping inside without further notice. our tongues twisting around each other. His hands traveled across my chest, tracing my muscles, forcing moans out of me when he pinched my nipples. My own hardness was already pressing against his stomach, my boxers straining to hold my member. My hands traced left his face and moved down his back until they landed on his perky ass. A dominant grope elicited another moan out of him, his hips pulling back into my hands. We broke our kiss, both of us breathing heavily. His eyes giving me a look full of lust that drove me wild.
I took off my t-shirt clumsily, fighting against the spikes that got stuck on the clock. Carlos gave me a playful smirk, his hands going for the bottom of his t-shirt, and ever so slowly, pulling it off. He moved with a grace I could never hope to imitate, showing just the right amount of skin before he turned around, throwing the garment over his shoulder, a coy grin on his face. I went for his neck, planting soft kisses as I pushed him against a wall. My arms closing around his stomach, muscles bulging to demand tribute. His soft hands explored my arms, sending tingles all over my over when he toyed with the base of the spikes. One hand adventured down to his bulge, gently closing around his member. A gasp came from him, his body leaning more into mine, his hands clasping hard onto my spikes. Emboldened, my hand started rubbing up and down his dick, the fabric of his shorts rustling with every move. Soft gasps and moans came from my beloved, his body writhing in my hold. I let go of him when his body started tensing, a muffled whine surging from the teased ork. He turned around, accusing eyes glancing my way. I sought forgiveness with kisses, letting him play with my body. His teasing caresses invigorating the fire in my loins. Eventually we had to break for air, a goofy smile on his face congratulating me on my performance.
"You've gotten better Dave." He said, one hand lazily tracing circles on my pecs.
"I've got a good teacher. He loves practical instruction." I replied, grinding my bulge against his stomach.
"Oh is that so? And do you like it?"
"I love it. Best classes of my life."
"What a pleaser you have become. Would you like some extra credit?" He asked me with a coy smile that told of so much trouble.
"What do you have in mind?" I told him, wearing my most charming smile.
"There are two glasses of hurlg over there, feeling so lonely. Whoever drink his glass and remains standing will get a prize."
"oh, a prize, and what it will be professor?"
"They'll get one wish the other must grant. Anything goes."
"Anything goes? someone is feeling daring tonight, I like it. Deal"
With a smile that would make the Cheshire Cat look like a downer, he strutted towards the table. In a swift move he had both glasses in his hands, the hurlg spattering the floor with each step. He handed me the cool glass, confidence sparkling in his eyes.
"Bottoms up. On the count of three?" he asked, lifting his glass in a dare. There was no getting out of this.
"One." Our glass clinked as we hit them together, drops of alcohol falling to the floor.
"Two". We lifted our glasses, bringing them to our lips, the dizzying smell of alcohol filling my nostrils.
"Three." The hurlg went down my throat, the sour liquid somehow tasting even worse than the first time. Once more liquid fire went down my throat. The pleasant buzz changing from a tiny puppy to a ravenous wolf. The room shifted around me, hot air leaving my nostils in a strong huff. The notion of balance left my body. A loud thud going through the room when I fell on my ass. A series of coughs shaking my body. The room continued spinning around me for a few more moments, before the fire dimmed to a warm feeling all over my body. My love stood over me, hands on his knees and face strained, but a soft smile still present on his face. We stared at each other for Ghost knows how long, before my mind finally understood what the situation meant. It had seemed like such a good idea though.