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Wants and Needs

If one takes the time to get to know an orc, their lives are almost the same for any fur. One could call an orc's childhood and adolescence barbaric, but next to no orc would object to how they are raised. Such is the case of a young grey orc named Torquil.

After putting it off for too long, the grey orc decided to visit a nightclub in the city of Edinburgh. He has finished his university curriculum and now wants to move forward on this summer night. He treads the sidewalk, clad in no more than baggy beige shorts and a pair of black sandals that look like rags bound together. Though Torquil is buff by nature of his kind, he is not as bulky as most orcs. The lines of his pectorals are visible but not the muscles of his midsection. His arm muscles are defined, and his shoulders are broad, but not quite equivalent to a wrestler. To make him stand out even further is that he has no tusks. To go without a shirt would be typical of any orc. So, the bouncer, a lion, outside the brick construct where Torquil stops is unphased.

The lion speaks, "We jus' filled up, Chap. Unless yer name is on the guest list, yeh need wait for an opening." He sounds bored, indicating that he has told this to others many times before.

Torquil replies, "'Tis me firs' time goin' to this kind of place. But I understand." The young orc is lucky to be the first in line. The time is 8:30, the sky orange with the slowly-setting sun. The place has just opened for the night, and already they are full up. The club is popular with orcs, and Torquil hopes to find out why. He has done his research on the place, Iron Walrus. He studied its menu of known drink brands and cocktails, read the reviews, and thought thoroughly of how he would proceed. He spent so much time preparing for his first visit to a nightclub for one reason, and only one.

Torquil asks, "D-yeh care whot I do whilst I wait?"

The lion answers, sounding as bored, "Only if it disturbs those behind you or anyone drivin' by." Torquil dismisses the possible condescension. He always had trouble discerning tones and body language.

The young grey orc plays a word game on his cell phone whilst he waits for the time to be let in. The sun still seems to be at the same level when the lion announces, "You kin go in now. There's another usher as there's an entrance fee. Yeh kin ask 'er whot-ever questions yeh might 'ave." The time is just past nine when Torquil treads past the lion, who refastens the hook on the velvet rope.

To his surprise, there is no noise when he enters the brick construct. The first room has inner walls of wood, the floor carpeted. Sitting at an intricate desk is an amber she-orc sporting a black leather bodice and matching pants. Her brown hair is tied into a bun. She asks, "Kin I 'elp yeh, Chap?"

Torquil answers, "I just came ta dance and drink."

She replies, "Of course you are. Entrance fee is twenty quid."

As he digs into his back pocket, then his wallet, the grey orc asks, "Whot kin yeh tell me of the layout?"

She accepts the twenty-pound bill and asks back, "Whot d-you mean?"

"How many tables are there? How long will I need t-wait fer a drink? And is there a big dancefloor?"

The she-orc chuckles. "Of course, the dancefloor is big! We're orcs; the tollest of ush are equivalent to whales!" She continues informatively, "Given that we are at capacity by the time you enter, mos' tables are taken. Booths be the mosht popular. Security has needed ta break up many fights, azh well. Seeing as yeh be new here, the club 'azhs a band and stage. Yeh may request songs, as long as they don' need ta look it up. We 'ave open Wi-Fi, but yeh'll need ter agree to terms b-fore accessing the 'ome page. The name is Iron Walrus Guest--no spaces--and the password is 'tusk-three-zero-one-four'." Torquil scowls at that. In a place frequented mostly by orcs, he might need a corner to hide in. The she-orc adds, "Anything else?"

"No, I got the information I need." Yet, he knows that it is not enough to prepare him for what is beyond the wide, polished wooden door. He opens it--

And suddenly, the loud electronic music threatens to deafen him. How he hates noise. This is just one reason he would never join a fraternity during university. He believes what they say in pop culture, fraternities being obnoxious party animals. What he got was not far from the truth. The vast chamber is black bar the colourful strobe lights swaying with the vocalising and instruments. Already, he can see hints of the crowd dancing in the open area.

Torquil walks slowly, wanting to make sure that he steps on nobody's feet. He gets to the aisle dividing the lines of booths without a hassle. Anyone would ask what is wrong with him, merely for his blank expression. He just doesn't know whether to next proceed to the nearest server or directly to the dancefloor. Though his eyes adjust to the changing lights and his ears to the blaring music, neither resolve Torquil's indecisiveness.

Only to get out of other people's ways, Torquil heads to the dancefloor. If only he could be invisible in the crowd of orcs and furs. The young orc just listens to what song currently plays and focuses on the stage occupied by orcs with flashy styles. The lead singer is slim compared to any orc, is clad in only cargo pants, and he has cerulean skin, his black hair long and messy. The drummer, an indigo orc with the muscles like Adonis and standing at almost three metres, wears black leather pants and has short brown hair. The keyboardist, a crimson orc built like a professional wrestler, wears a golden-orange tank top and dusty-looking jeans, his head shaved. Not so peculiar to orcs, the band has a bagpiper, a green orc with blond hair in a ponytail. One would be incorrect to assume that the guitarist, another blond-haired green orc, is his brother.

Torquil is not familiar with them, but anything to focus on for a time. He paces, but not far when the next song starts. He notes that the vocalist has a talent--which he judges as a habit--for holding a tune. To Torquil, the drummer and bagpiper can go a long time without breaking a sweat or drying their mouths. However, he learns that the songs are exclusive in the case of solos. Just when Torquil is eased by the third song, the drum solo stimulates him. To follow that, is a fast song, which comes off as open to a bagpipe solo. That gets Torquil to shuffle. Then, something awakens his imagination. The fifth song that he hears from the band, is one that he knows. So, he considers them a cover band. Torquil acts what he imagines one person doing as the music and vocals go. He seems to blend in for the six minutes of the one song.

When the performers make the transition, the young orc is brought to reality. He expects nobody to hear or care, given the noise. So, he sings along, for he knows the lyrics. He can never resist singing along to a song, though, as long as nobody else is in earshot. This is one exception.

For the following several songs, the young orc tries to enjoy himself. He forgets about the people around him. He drowns out the background. For as long as Torquil listens to the playlist, he feels like he is in his own little world.

When the young orc wears himself out with acting and singing along, he treads the carpeted floor and avoids bumping into others again. He is back to reality again, taking in the coloured strobe lights and looks to the long counter of the bar. A steel rack hangs from the ceiling. Its contents, antique tankards, are merely for decoration. Glass bottles of liquor take up the shelf at the back. The barwoman is a golden-orange orc with a purple dragon tattoo on each upper arm. She sports a brown tunic, which keeps her large breasts well-concealed, faded blue jeans, and a digital watch on her right wrist. She asks, "Kin I 'elp yeh, Lad?"

Torquil admits, "This's me firs' time at a bar. So, I wanna start smoll."

The barwoman recommends, "Yeh kin never go wrong with beer."

He doesn't take long to consider which brand. "A pint of MacCauley."

The barwoman nods and moves aside. As quickly, she returns with a tall glass of golden liquid. Its smell makes the alcohol come off a minimal to the young orc. He samples it, and it is pungent to him. Sitting in the metal-legged, wide-cushioned barstool, Torquil takes small sips from the glass for the next few minutes.

Getting used to the taste of the beer, the young grey orc looks around. He leaves a bill on the counter, and then gets up. He looks carefully for another space that he could use. Torquil eventually finds one of the violet leather circular booths occupied by a pale-blue she-orc wearing a black bodice, and has a tattoo on each upper arm. He stares blankly before he speaks, "May I sit with you?"

She answers, "Of course." So, the grey orc sits down and sets his glass of beer on the polished wooden table.

After awkward silence, Torquil states, "I olways prefer booths."

"I do, too. I look fer others to entertain, though."

"'Tis me firs' time in a nightclub at oll."

As if she is distracted, the blue she-orc responds, "Good fer you."

Awkward again, Torquil sips his beer. Noting where she looks, he turns, only to not know what she's looking at. So, he looks back at her. Torquil asks, "D-you come 'ere often?"

The she-orc answers, "Olmost every week."

"I am Torquil. Whot's yer name?"

"Lìadan. Y-kin coll me Lia."

As if Torquil expects the alcohol to boost his confidence, he takes a big gulp of his beer before he asks, "And how d-you entertain others, Lia?"

"Mostly with videos that me 'ubby sends me. He 'as no problem with me sharing them."

"Is your husband working late?"

Lìadan chuckles. "He olways 'as time ter entertain others 'imself."

Torquil doesn't understand what that means, for he comments, "Too bad. I am no party goer."

A server interrupts, taking a plate of orts from their table. She asks, "Want a refill?"

Lìadan answers, "Sure."

The waitress then asks, "Anything fer you?"

Torquil answers, "Yes, but later."

When the pair are alone for the moment, Lìadan asks, "Care ta tell me about yerself, Lad?"

Torquil mutters, clutching his glass, "Where to start." He then speaks up, "Most recently, I 'ave finished university. The graduation ceremony wos last night. I am twenty years old."

Lìadan hums a single note. Not that Torquil can tell, but she thinks about his tone and how he seems stiff. Furthermore, his voice comes off as monotonous. She builds upon his statement, asking, "Whot did yeh study?"

"I majored in general arts. I jus' wanted ta learn t-be a good writer."

The pale-blue she-orc comments, "I assume yeh be good at writing."

He replies, "I 'ave a vast imagination."

"Oh? And whot d-you 'ope to write about?"

Suddenly, Torquil comes off as bitter, for he looks away and mutters, "I can't tell you."

She leans back, though not because she thinks that she offended him somehow. She watches Torquil gulp his beer, his face showing a reaction to the taste. Lìadan looks around before she asks, "Whot kin yeh tell me of yer sex life?" Torquil is the one slouching this time. So, Lìadan adds, "Yeh're not a virgin, are yeh?" The grey orc just nods. "Really? Twenty years old and not housebroken? Me 'ubby and I were both sixteen when we 'ad our firs' times. I couldn't keep me legs together longer than three days, and he couldn't keep it in 'is trousers longer than two days. At yer age"-

"Please, don' go on. 'Tis not me business."

That definitely intrigues her. "Did yeh not hear other orcs on yer campus weave sexual tales?"

"I might 'ave, but it never interested me."

The she-orc stares quizzically. She says, "Sorry if this conversation turns into an interview."

"I am rather passionate about taking surveys."

Lìadan turns out to have been looking down, her hands together. She enters words of attributes on the search engine and scrolls the screen. Looking up again, she asks, "Were you olways shy?"

"Shy? I'm the quiet type. I might 'ave 'ad friends, but I wos never really social at parties. Jus' playing games and eating their cake."

The she-orc looks down at her phone's screen, reading a web page. Torquil seems to have no problem with the long pauses for her reading. She looks up, stating, "I may understand now, whot yer kind is."

Torquil leans forward, propping his arms on the table. He downs the rest of his beer and sighs, scowling. As monotonously as he has been talking, Torquil says, "There've bin a lot ta provoke me over the years. Anything, even when it is only on me mind, makes me wanna break things, and there are people I wish I punched." The she-orc processes that explanation well.

She speaks, "There be another orc with yer traits." She nudges her head to indicate a direction.

"The bar?" Torquil asks, wanting confirmation. Lìadan nods. So, Torquil looks carefully, discerning the one orc that he knows is looking at him.

That particular orc has indigo skin and short tusks standing out in a thick and neat beard. Torquil can tell from such a distance that the indigo orc has a tattoo on the right side of his neck and right shoulder. Torquil snaps his focus back to Lìadan.

The grey orc asks, "Is that yer husband?" Lìadan quietly nods. He adds, "How long 'as he bin looking at me?"

"Prob-ly long enough ta wonder if you and I will be friends."

Without hesitation, Torquil responds, "He needn't wonder more."

Lìadan remarks, "I believe me 'ubby would like a connection with you."

"Whot?"

The pale-blue she-orc leans forward sternly. She explains, "His name's Reynold. He could stare at you, and say that he looks in a mirror. Reynold is really gay"--as surprised as Torquil is, he doesn't interrupt--"We were friends fer so long and he got so attached that he loved me. Reynold couldn't take the fact that we would drift apart. The first and only time he proposed to me, I agreed." She adds, grinning, "I made 'im bi on our wedding night. He loves the foreplay."

To the she-orc's humour, Torquil raises his eyebrows, putting the facts together. "You ask 'im fer videos of 'im with other men, to entertain yer friends."

Lìadan raises a finger and chuckles. She adds, "And to which we pleasure ourselves. I bin cuckoldin' almost as long as Reynold an' I 'ave bin married." Pause.

Torquil states, "I might need another pint." He looks for a server, and finds one to which he can wave. It is a different waitress that approaches the booth. He asks, "Can I get another beer? And some oatcakes?"

The waitress, an orange she-orc, answers, "Sure, Love."

Lìadan presents her phone, stating, "I would love if you record your shagging and ping it."

Without question, Torquil gets his cell phone out and makes a contact page. He then presents his screen showing his number, so that Lìadan can add him as a contact. The she-orc says, "Lemme get 'im fer you." She gets up and is quick to approach the bar. As quickly, the orange she-orc returns with the refilled beer glass and a plate of oatcakes arranged in a circle, a small bowl of sauce in the middle.

Torquil samples the sauce on one oatcake, to know that it's basil pesto. As it is not to his taste, he finishes that oatcake plain. He guesses that he should have asked for a reminder of the sauce selection. After the young grey orc finishes the first oatcake, the indigo orc sits down in front of him. "Good evening", he says plainly. He then comments, "That's an odd combination." Up close, he has the muscles like Adonis.

Torquil replies, "I am no drinker."

"At least y-got something ta soak up the beer. I ate a lot the first time I drank beer." Reynold follows up with curiosity. "Whot happened t-yer tusks?"

"I 'ad them removed when I wos thirteen, after shedding me last baby tooth. I hated the feel of me tusks. So, I told me parents that I wanted them replaced with metal teeth." He withdraws his right hand, to lower his lip, indicating the incisors lustrous compared to the rest of his teeth. Torquil then gets to the point, asking, "What did yer wife tell you about me?"

"Jus' that yeh bin untouched." Torquil looks down in shame. Reynold adds, "I kin assure yeh, Lad, yeh'll 'ave a good time with me." He finds that Torquil is not convinced. So, he explains, "I be a stranger t-you, but I could be enithing but."

Torquil looks up. He pushes his beer and plate aside, and then props his arms on the table. He says, "I never know who to believe. I dinna stay long during me high-school graduation party. I never attended a school formal. I thought I loved someone once, but I had many female friends, only to never ask one out on a date. Until last year, I knew nothing about sexual frustration. I had to read an erotic online book ta know how sex is done, namely whot happens when a man has an orgasm." He lowers his head again.

Reynold is sad for the young orc, knowing now of Torquil's lack of a social life. He claims, "I wos like you once. I thought I needed only one interaction to get attached to someone. Such wos the case with me wife. I wos never a party person meself, but I held a reception fer me wedding. I wouldn't drink, either, until I wos twenty-one. Like other orcs, though, after me first time, I could hardly avoid getting aroused, fer more than two days."

Torquil reaches for his plate and glass. He takes a bite of one of the oatcakes, and thinks for the moment of chewing. He says, "I never thought that I would lay with somebody I just met. I olways thought that my only sexual partner in me life would be the one I want to marry."

"There be no problem with feeling attached t-somebody eleven years yer senior. Me wife and I 'ave a cuckolding agreement. She's not considered less about the men that I bed."

Torquil eats up the rest of the oatcake and downs a large swig of his beer. He then reproaches, "But I am a nobody. So, why pick me, of oll orcs?"

Reynold knows instantly where that comes from. He asks back, "Do you judge other orcs on whether they 'ave tattoos or not?" Pause. As Torquil does not answer, Reynold continues, "These days, determining an orc fer their tattoos, only applies ta the wealthy and the criminals. Then again, those in the music industry are no stranger to inking their bodies."

Torquil inquires, "And where are you in the social classes?"

Reynold is taken aback by that question, but he is not quite hesitant to answer. "I could never decide on me career. So, I enrolled in military school. Having seen only one tour of service through, I felt attached t-me naval mates. They gave me this mark." He turns, indicating the tattoo on his right should and the right side of his neck, a barbed triskele and the outline of a shark. He straightens as he continues, "I resigned in a few years of having been wed. I 'ad a choice ta keep coming and going, taking shot after shot, or t-be a loyal husband. I turned in me resignation letter four years ago, with an honourable discharge. These days, I be a police officer. It still means risks, but I still come 'ome to me wife, and mayhaps cuddle."

Torquil sighs before speaking, "This might be the lust talking, but may I kiss yeh?"

Reynold chuckles. "Of course yeh can, Lad." They both shuffle to the middle of the booth, where their hands touch. Reynold cups Torquil's jaw as they lean towards one another. Then, they kiss. It lasts for only one second, and is followed by Torquil staring into the burly orc's amber eyes. Torquil kisses him again, liking the feeling of the facial hair brushing jaw and upper lip. It makes Reynold's mouth feel wider to Torquil. The young orc embraces the large indigo orc and keeps up with the series of kisses. Reynold happily returns the kisses. Torquil pulls back, nervous. He knows the feeling of his loins stirring, but he doesn't know how to continue. Reynold whispers in his ear, "We oll get nervous the firs' time. Yer instincts can be of use as a guide." He wraps his left arm around Torquil and moves his right hand down, to Torquil's chest. The warmth there stimulates the young orc all the more. Torquil approaches again and kisses him. Rather eagerly, he slips his tongue between Reynold's lips, only to pull it back. However, Reynold indicates how he wants it. On the next kiss to be exchanged, Torquil slips his tongue further. It enables Reynold to lick Torquil's tongue, which he does. Torquil freezes at the gesture, suddenly as unsure. He breaks the kiss. He just stares, unable to put his thoughts into words. Reynold says, "It can be more relaxing if yeh let it happen." Torquil shows no reaction to that. He stays still. Reynold caresses the young orc's chest. Though Torquil is sceptic, he can feel some urge. He kisses the bulky indigo orc yet again. This time, his tongue dances with the large orc's. He feels like he is on fire. His loins start to burn, his groin feeling tight.

The grey orc can still think straight enough to know that it is not the place. He asks, "How far is your place from 'ere?" The bulky indigo orc grins. The embrace ends. Torquil hastily downs the rest of his beer, and then eagerly signals the same orange she-orc over, asking, "Can I get these to go?" He still has three small oatcakes that he would've hated to make the kitchen waste. He pays for the refreshments himself.

The two lusting orcs take a taxi home. During the ride, Torquil asks, "Do you do this often? Hooking up with men and recording videos fer Lia?"

"Olmost every week."

Suddenly, that makes Torquil feel uneasy. He lusted for the much larger and much older orc, but in his mind, he finds this wrong. He wants to make love and have someone who would make love to him. His heart races and he feels his eyes well up. He is taken aback when Reynold takes his hand in his. The bulky orc explains, "In due time, yeh'll understand that everyone 'as their own wants and needs. Lia can make me horny, but I get hornier fer men. If yeh needed to look up sex when yeh came of age, I assume yeh know whot happens the longer yeh're a virgin." Torquil does know. And he has been frustrated with having trouble talking to others. What bothers him now, though, still fails to leave his thoughts.

The cab driver pays no attention as he keeps his eyes on the road. Not looking at Reynold, the young grey orc says, "I wos once afraid of bein' a pervert when lookin' at pictures of naked people. I also thought that I wanted ta be a nudist and considered joinin' a community."

"Then I assume yeh know whot others get wrong about nudists." Torquil only nods, suddenly running many outcomes on this night in his head. Reynold continues, "I understand. Yeh get horny; yeh wanna get naked. Some of us also be enough of a show-off ta let others see whot's between yer legs." Torquil already has the urge to get naked. If it didn't mean the cab driver making them leave, Torquil would be riding Reynold right there and then.

Torquil asks, "Whot was yer first time like?"

Reynold turns to him awkwardly. "The truth?" he asks back. He pauses, expecting specifics. He then continues, "Difficult. It took us a lot o' time ta get it up. My then-boyfriend and I didn't know whot moves t-make. We didn't even know if we liked foreplay. The first time he and I got inside each other, we struggled a lot. We gave each other a lot of discomfort during and after." That makes Torquil even more nervous. What if he doesn't like men? What if he doesn't like sex at all? Sensing the tension, Reynold adds, "That is common when a pair of virgins shag the first time. It is also why the second and third times are much better."

The silence does not last long. When the cab stops afront of an apartment building, Reynold says, "This be where me wife and I live." Torquil is reluctant to get out, but follows the bulky orc, who pays the driver and thanks him. The two orcs enter a wide lobby with a tiled floor and grey walls. Suddenly, Torquil wishes that he could be as grey as those walls.

Reynold takes the young orc's hand. It is with hesitation, Torquil follows the bulky orc to the silver-door lift. It closes and moves too fast for Torquil to nestle into Reynold's beefy arm. Then, Reynold rushes him down the lamplit hall. The bulky orc pauses to get his keys and open the door where they stop. Reynold eagerly closes it behind them both and tosses his keys aside.

What a view Torquil gets of the vast apartment. Reynold says gleefully, "Welcome to my home." The hardwood floor has an intricate carpet for an artistic coffee table and fabric couch with a blanket, a sixty-inch TV on a glass-shelved stand, and a stack of tins, at the back. Torquil still pays no attention when Reynold takes Torquil's box of oatcakes to the kitchen. He is even more shocked when he sees that Reynold is naked! Torquil gets to see the muscled ass for barely a second.

Instinct gets a firmer grip on him, having seen a sample of what's to come. However, he wonders how often Reynold is nude in his apartment. That is a question to be answered later. Suddenly, he remembers what the she-orc requested. He speaks up, "I don' think a video would be a good idea. Lia doesn't know I'm a virgin." He quickly takes out his cell phone and opens the text message window, for he thinks that he cannot let others see him embarrass himself during his first time. He ignores the slapping footsteps on the floorboards as he types and presses the "send" key. As quickly as he pockets his phone, he looks up--

And there Reynold is right in front of him, showing off his naked body! Though envious of the muscles that could be a living chart, Torquil finds the image a living artwork. Instinctively, the young orc looks down at Reynold's crotch--

And his mind wrests over lust for control. Torquil's crotch feels even tighter. So, he eagerly unbuttons and unzips his baggy shorts. He pulls his pants and underwear down at the same time and lets them fall to the floor. Like Reynold's manhood, Torquil's displays arousal. He allows the bulky orc to stare at it as he lifts his feet and kicks his clothes back. Reynold grins and chuckles, raising a hand.

He places his hand on the side of Torquil's face. Following instinct again, Torquil places his hand over it, not wanting that warmth to go away.

Torquil advances and kisses the bulky orcs lips. He reciprocates with a hand on Reynold's face. As they exchange another kiss, Torquil strokes Reynold's beard as he lowers his hand. The kiss breaks with the awkwardness growing. Torquil realises instantly that their peckers touched. Torquil mumbles, failing to get the words out. He tries again, managing to whisper, "Is your heart racing like mine is?"

Reynold whispers back, "I wos nervous my first time, too." Torquil just stares into Reynold's eyes, wanting the image to sink in. The bulky orc adds, "We got oll night, Lad. I kin guide you in anything." All that Torquil wants right now is to kiss those lips again, and feel that bushy beard rubbing his jaw. Without a word, Torquil advances, closing his eyes. He places his left hand on Reynold's jaw again, this time feeling the muscles. He then caresses the side of the neck, where the tattoo begins. Torquil lowers his hand further, and much more slowly, feeling the lines of the pectoral. Torquil breaks the kiss to breathe, and feels the tightness in his groin. He just wants to relax in the large, unobstructed chest. His groin aches, but Torquil realises that it feels good. He nuzzles Reynold's neck and eagerly wraps his arms around Reynold.

Torquil caresses the large orc's shoulders and back. Torquil lets out short breaths as if he vibrates. He wants to kiss all over the bulk of this orc. His hands get lower and lower. Torquil is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't know that Reynold is doing the same thing. The young orc can tell where he reaches the hips. He quickly grabs both buttocks! He squeezes the rock-hard mounds--

And his eyes fly open upon Reynold squeezing his. He gasps. Reynold breathes a chuckle. How Torquil loves smooth bodies, especially smooth buttocks. Torquil is with the majority of male orcs growing no body hair, even on the groin. Their peckers harden and enlarge with their arousal, bodies being pressed against each other.

The young grey orc pulls away, looking into the indigo orc's eyes. He asks, "Can yeh teach me t-suck yer dick?"

The large indigo orc's smile does not waver. He quietly strokes Torquil's face, and then caresses his chest. Reynold takes Torquil's hand, to lead him past the kitchen and to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, only the lamp lights up, revealing the only things necessary to see. The wide and high bed has a metal antique sculpture where a headboard should be. With one hand and one grab, Reynold pulls away the comforter and sheet, revealing a white cover. There is another nightstand with a matching lamp. Torquil is too lost in the moment to pay attention to the detail of the walls or the wardrobes.

Torquil joins him on the bed, but the next step is not what he thinks. Reynold lays him on his back, and then moves down. Torquil inhales sharply upon the meaty hand cupping his goolies. His heart begins racing again. He is afraid of what would happen when his member gets engulfed. Time seems to slow down.

Torquil manages to hold back a squeal when the large orc's lips wrap around his manhood. His member feels even hotter than it already did. As suddenly, Torquil is fair puckled. The warmth of the giant orc's hands feels good on his arse. He watches Reynold bob his head as he sucks and laps over Torquil's unit. Reynold shows that he is such an expert at that gesture. The panting keeps up. His groin tightens. The ache feels so good that he doesn't want it to end.

Finally, a moan escapes Torquil. He makes the same sound, except louder. After a third moan that goes a little longer, he realises what has just happened. His heart goes so fast that he feels like it could leap out of his chest. He pants with the continuing lapping on his member.

Reynold looks up, having downed the orgasm like a can of beer. He quickly expresses concern at that Torquil looks like he could cry any second. "Whot's wrong?" he asks. Torquil is hesitant to answer, having achieved an orgasm, as much as he wishes to. He shuts his mouth and swallows, only to continue panting. Reynold senses the problem now. He shifts toward Torquil, holding his hand, his body atop Torquil. Reynold whispers, "Yeh're not the first t-cum fast. Takin' such a short time before ejaculating is common of us getting' an oral." Torquil remains at pause. It is a hand on his chest that garners a reaction. It seems to bring his heart to its recovery rate. Reynold adds, "Would you like t-put yer lesson ter use." The young grey orc quietly nods. He has immediately grown to liking the bulky orc's smile.

Reynold rolls over to lay on his back. He props his arms up in anticipation. Torquil quickly rolls to face Reynold. He decides to savour the moment, for he kisses Reynold on the lips, and then moves down. He makes a trail of quick kisses down the bulky orc's neck, going down the side of his chest. Torquil feels a tingle inside as he does so. Just for the sake of trying it, he nibs on the bulky orc's nip. That gets a short chuckle from Reynold. Torquil runs his hands down the beefy sides as he continues, licking the steel-like abs.

Moment of truth: Torquil kisses the indigo orc's groin and squeezes the wide legs. Copying what Reynold did, he cups the goolies, which Torquil could already tell were bigger than his. Torquil prefers to get a sample first, licking over the arousal. He does that repeatedly, until he gets the unit in his mouth.

To Torquil, the unit tastes salty with sweat. He continues with mimicry, lapping his tongue around the throbbing member. Torquil pauses only when Reynold places a hand on his head. The young orc quietly thanks Reynold for keeping him in place. As Torquil continues orally pleasuring Reynold, he holds tightly onto the rock-hard indigo buttocks. He keeps up with the pattern without question or hesitation. Torquil has known since coming of age that he likes men. Notably, he first imagined doing it with an older man. So far, he likes what's happening. He enjoys the feel of the arousal growing in his mouth. He doesn't stop at all, and breathes through his nose at a fast rate.

Torquil hears a sharp breath before the throbbing member twitches. The instant that Torquil tastes the ooze flow into his mouth, he reflexively lets it go. The cum from the aroused member spills onto the bed cover and Torquil's chest. He instantly looks up, horrified. Reynold says plainly, "S'oll right. The taste of cum is not fer everyone." Torquil follows a nudge to move up. Reynold sits up, to lick where his cum spilt on Torquil's chest.

The young grey orc becomes dreamy-eyed upon looking at the handsome face. He asks, "Wos I good?"

"Fer yer firs' time, you did well." Reynold cups the grey orc's chin. He moves to sit at the edge, and then gets up, stating, "Yeh'll get uncomfortable sittin' in a puddle of cum." Torquil understands that perfectly. He just watches Reynold take tissues from a box on the nightstand, to wipe up the narrow puddles of the more recent orgasm. Even though both orcs have cum, Torquil is still horny for Reynold. He just doesn't know how to say it, if not putting it bluntly. He looks down at his own semi-erect manhood. He envisions the bulky orc getting inside him. As exciting as he finds it, he is still afraid of what would happen to him.

Torquil has to be snapped out of his thoughts. Apparently, Reynold has thrown out the used tissues and returned. He asks, "Think yeh're up to another go?"

Torquil shoots his head up and looks at the married orc that he finds attractive. He looks down, at the indigo orc's groin. He vaguely sees the semi-erect unit, which is enough to arouse him yet again. He focuses on where the bearded face is and puts it bluntly. "I want you inside me." He wants to touch that precious piece of meat, caress it, and squeeze it. He has to breathe through his mouth because of the excitement.

Reynold, grinning, goes to his nightstand, to open the upper drawer. He digs into a flat box and lifts a plastic packet. Torquil is glad to know that Reynold thinks of safety. Not all orcs have sex without latex. Torquil asks, "How do we progress?"

Reynold takes Torquil's hand as a nudge. The grey orc approaches the edge of the bed and aligns with the bulky orc's groin. Just as he wanted to, Torquil cups the dark bollocks in his hand. He slightly closes and opens his hand repeatedly. He feels his heart accelerating again as he arouses the beefy orc's manhood. He cannot bear to turn away as he watches the dark unit engorge. Torquil waits for the right moment to caress the veiny front up and down. He can feel the slight resistance grow with the unit trying to rise as he pushes it down. With enough resistance having built up, Torquil wraps his entire hand around the meat. He bends his hand back and forth, rubbing the sausage as it slowly hardens. Torquil can swear that the unit has a pulse of its own.

Torquil has to be reminded what the plan is, for Reynold grips his wrist. Torquil heeds the sign to let go. As quickly as Torquil lowers his arm, Reynold slips the piece of latex over the exposed head, and then the rest of his stiff unit. Torquil shifts to face the headboard. Then, the mattress lowers with the weight. Instead of the hard unit, Torquil feels something slick get between his mounds, to which he gasps. Making that out, Torquil pauses to state, "Always knock before entering." Torquil feels another lick between his buttocks. He knows that he could never do this; he considers it terribly unsanitary.

The tongue gets deeper and deeper, making him whimper inside. His nipples harden with nervousness. Still, he stays on his hands and knees, wanting the large orc to pound him like he has read in erotica. He gets more and more nervous with each lap inside him. His whimper can be heard when the tongue wriggles inside him. Barely a second after the tongue gets out, Reynold says, "It's oll worth the effort." A single hand strokes Torquil's buttocks while Reynold adds, "Whot you expect is next. It'll be easier if yeh relax." He nudges the young orc by the hips. Sensing confusion, Reynold says, "I wanna see yer face when I enter you." He doesn't question the difficulty of it. Torquil rolls over and lays on his back.

Each hand grips Torquil's hips. Something slides between his buttocks. It rubs against the walls that they are. He clenches, only for the motion to repeat. Now, he knows what it is. Torquil tries to let down his resistance, only to re-raise it with each time the torpedo slides back and forth. Reynold can tell that the reduction of friction is not enough. He rubs Torquil's mounds, which seems to ease the young orc.

Reynold slowly ruts his hips. As slowly, Torquil lets down his inhibitions. He can feel his member harden with the erection attempting to burrow into his tunnel. He wants this; he needs this. Torquil forgets at this moment that the orc working his way in, is married to a she-orc. Torquil seethes, "Get inside me!"

Reynold keeps going at his slow pace until he reaches the entrance. Upon crossing the threshold of Torquil's tunnel, the young orc yelps. That would turn out to be the only time he yelps. Torquil closes his eyes with bliss, as if they glaze over. The indigo orc's latex-covered erection slides a little further inside with each rut. The indigo orc raises the young orc's legs to wrap around his hips. He smiles at Torquil's eyes seeming to shine.

Then, the rutting resumes. Reynold keeping his eyes on Torquil's face. Torquil moans with pleasure. He breathes, "Harder." Thinking that Reynold can't hear it, Torquil speaks up, "Pound me like a drum." Reynold doesn't question the request. He picks up the pace, his groin smacking against Torquil's scrotum. Torquil's unit flops about. He has the urge to jack off, but fears that it's the wrong thing to do.

That restraint becomes much weaker with each thrust toward his prostate. He makes tight fists, holding the bed cover. Still, the bulky orc rocks back and forth, now as fast a jackhammer. He moans again and again. How he wishes for the bliss to last...

But that would be impossible. Reynold is the one to cry out now. He feels a flow from his maleness. His juice spills out, the plastic covering keeping it from getting in Torquil's tunnel. He takes a moment to catch his breath, before lifting a hand to wrap around Torquil's sausage. Reynold massages it, quickly getting the unit to harden. The young orc's moans make him happy. With the unit hard, Reynold jerks his hand up and down. Torquil moans the loudest he has--

And he cums! Rope after rope spurts on the young orc! As if the wind has suddenly been knocked out of him, Torquil breathes heavily, his stomach quickly rising and falling. He closes his heavy eyes. He doesn't want to fall asleep, for he feels warm and relaxed. Laying sprawled on his back, feeling as if he could doze off, Torquil eventually feels the latex-coated meat get out of his glory hole, and then a tongue lap over his midsection, working down to his manhood.

Torquil realises that he did doze off. The next thing he knows, he wakes up, his chest pressed against and wrapped in big muscles. He wakes with a yawn and opens his eyes to the attractive face of the bulky orc. Reynold smiles at him. Torquil wishes that he knew what to say. He wants to snuggle in the indigo beefcake, but he has nothing to get him through the night. As if Reynold is aware of the dilemma, he states, "We are olways prepared fer unexpected overnight guests. We keep a box of spare toothbrushes in the cabinet below the sink."

Torquil slowly recedes from the bulky chest and gets up. He replies, "I won't take long."

In preparation to turn in, Torquil goes to the loo to relieve himself. Then, after washing his hands, he finds the drawer where the box of toothbrushes is. He opens a random packet and uses it to brush his teeth. While brushing, flossing, and rinsing with mouthwash, Torquil thinks about where he is. Only two hours back, he just met a she-orc with a husband that likes men. They have an agreement. As much he took pleasure in another orc pounding his virginal ass, something doesn't feel right to him. All that Torquil wanted, was an orc to fuck him. He always preferred that orc to be much older, much bigger, and much stronger than him. That is what he got.

Upon spitting out the mouthwash, Torquil looks at himself in the mirror. He thought that he would be happy, but something tells him not to. The young grey orc thought that he could let down his inhibitions, but his guard demands permission to re-raise. Torquil wants to return to the bed shared with a married couple, and nestle with the kind of man he dreamt of, and he does just that.

Torquil takes a good long look at the muscled back and the rock-like buttocks. Maybe that is what Lìadan wants videos of, which dawns on him now. He feels like he disappoints her, not getting inside him, and hopes that she would understand. He goes around and sits on the bed, back turned. His back is to Reynold, even when he lays on his side and shifts backwards. Reynold doesn't hesitate to strongarm the young orc. Torquil falls asleep, comforted and warmed by the muscled body.

It may be the wee hours of the morning when the young grey orc shifts and slowly opens his eyes. Torquil feels so warm, not just that Reynold holds him from behind and that they're under blankets. Upon opening his eyes, the young orc can make out a face in front of him. His eyes are quick to widen, realising that a married couple has sandwiched him. Knowing of their agreement, he realises that he has suddenly become their sex pet.

Torquil suddenly begins breathing heavily. He lifts his arms. In a panic, he throws the blankets back, and then yanks the couple's arms off of him. Lìadan is the first to sense the disturbance. She moans and yawns with the sudden waking. By that time, the young orc has scrambled out of the bed. He stumbles after exiting the bedroom's doorway.

That reminds the young orc to get his oatcakes from the refrigerator. He does so, and then watches his feet, only to realise that his pants aren't on the floor. He turns to the couch, where the two pairs of pants are folded.

"Torquil?" the she-orc calls wearily. "Whot's wrong?" The young orc doesn't answer. He just feels the head of the couch, to deduce which pair of pants is his. Lìadan persists, "Did something terrible happen? Yeh didn't bleed, did yeh? I'm not mad about you not dominating me 'ubby, let alone recording a video. Did yeh find Reynold did somethin' wrong? Please, Torquil, I worry about you." She has paused, expecting a reply to each sentence.

The young orc has found his pants and underwear. He puts down the small box, pointing when he snaps, "Not- a fuckin'- word!" He picks up the box again before heading to the door. He gets on one knee, feeling for his sandals. Torquil finds them quickly.

"But whot's wrong?" the she-orc presses.

Torquil answers, "It's nothing t-do with the progress. I should've never bin a part of yer way of cuckolding."

Lìadan objects, "We're not training you t-be a whore."

Before Lìadan can add anything, Torquil interrupts, "No. I'm some throwaway pet." He spits the last word. "I thought that I could live a fantasy, but I wos wrong. Next, yeh want me as yer personal porn star."

Before the young orc could get dressed, Lìadan takes his hand, assuring him, "Reynold would know how you feel: the frustration and the loneliness."

Torquil barks, "I don't need a lecture!" He sighs, feeling his eyes well up. "Reynold told me, everyone has their own wants and needs. Now, I know mine: a lover... He can't be that..." He just picks up his things and opens the door when finishing, "Don't follow me. Don't even speak to me." He shuts the door and walks into the lit hall, crying. He still doesn't get dressed, even when in front of the elevator. He goes in, blinded by his tears. For all the more reason, he doesn't know whether he wants to forget he met that couple. He won't die a virgin, but he questions the price.