Green in Bed - 5 (Patreon)

Garen paced the length of his bedchamber. From one side to the other, passing the looming wooden frame of his bed again and again. Every so often, he’d eye the cushions and the dark silk sheets, noting the sharp neatness of their dressing. Knowing that a mess would be made of them very soon.

Bed. The word echoed in the teenager’s mind. Garen had been born in a bed - it was likely he was conceived in one, too - and now he would become a man in one.

The bathhouse had been a fluke - and a poor showing on his part. Tonight was the true test of his mettle. Because knowing a woman’s touch was not the same as knowing a woman. Come the morning, Garen would have the enlightenment he so craved.

The heir to House Corvas breathed in deep. He shook his arms, trying to dispel himself of jitters. He was to be a duke and such anxiety was unbecoming. He would not have a repeat blunder from his first bout.

He had finally known the touch of a woman that evening in the bathhouse, but his nerves had gotten to him and he’d fled the moment he spilled. The rush of sensation had been overwhelming, so enrapturing to his body that for a moment he had taken leave of his wits. But his reaction had been shameful all the same. He’d already known ecstasy from his own hands. But it was Tura’s touch that had sent him truly over the edge.

Garen had been unprepared. That was the bitter truth of it. The excitement had been too much. Even worse was the shame of spilling before he had even dipped inside her.

The teenager frowned, feeling heat rise in his cheeks and ears. Silently he chided himself. All alone in his room and he somehow felt embarrassment. He forced those feelings away, putting his mind on better things. More important things.

He was a duke’s son. He carried the name of Corvas. He was not some trembling pup. He would overcome this trial and conquer the allure of the fairer sex. He would tame his wild, green beauty just as his ancestors did, those brave knights of the Corvas line.

But then there was a knock at his bedroom door and Garen Corvas suddenly found his nerve made unsteady again.

She’s here.

The young duke breathed in, slow and deep. He calmed himself, seeking still waters in his mind. Quickly, he checked himself, making sure his appearance was not too unkempt. He wore a loose tunic of soft white cotton and dark brown trousers. Casual, at ease - and easy to remove. Garen looked himself over for only a moment longer, running a hand through his black hair. Then he found his courage and made for the door.

He opened it and blinked, briefly stunned. The green vixen had found another way to surprise him.

Tura was almost completely covered, her taller form draped with a dark, flowing robe. A deep purple it was, almost black, and it was a shock against the rich, lovely green of her face and neck. But though it covered nearly her whole body, Garen knew that she was naked underneath. The she-orc had allowed her robe to part, but only just so. Enough to expose a thin sliver of green all the way down to her navel. Not much, but more than enough to entice Garen’s eager eyes.

When the teenager finally found the sense to look at Tura’s face, he found her smirking down at him. Her bright eyes glittered with faint teasing… and wicked promise.

Garen swallowed. Then he found his voice.

“Miss Tura. You’re early.” He spoke formally, his words clipped and firm.

He stood up straighter, putting strength into his posture - but still the she-orc had some inches on him. She was much, much more woman than a human or elf could offer him.

Tura’s smirk grew, delighting in his rapt attention.

“It’s good to be punctual.” She said, sweet words pouring from sensual lips. “And I take my duties very seriously.”

“Of course you do. Your contract is binding after all.” Garen’s response was smooth and sharp - though he had no idea where his sudden courage came from. Tura’s eyes flashed bright with… something. And it sent the teenager’s gut coiling like a snake. The human noble stepped aside. “Do come in.”

Tura entered with her head held high, striding forth with surprising grace for a she-orc. The stunning lines of her comely face were still and serene. She was calm, undaunted by the task she was about to perform - undaunted by him.

She held her robe closed with both hands - but that did not last. Garen closed his bedroom door and locked it. The moment he turned to face his lovely guest, he found her already disrobing. He had turned just in time to see the dark silk flow down her back, revealing an immaculate body of enticing green.

Garen’s breath caught in his throat, his young eyes sweeping over Tura’s figure. He had already seen her naked, already enjoyed the delight of seeing her skin glisten in the waters of the bathhouse. Hells below, he’d seen the glory of her body many times before that, spying on her bathing countless times as a mischievous youth. But it didn’t matter if he’d seen her body a dozen times or even a hundred - Tura remained as intoxicating a vision as she did the first time.

He drank her in, committing every wondrous detail to memory. The clear strength in her back and shoulders, how her firm muscles never overtook her feminine beauty, it was marvelous for the teenager to behold. But even more alluring were her curves, the sensual lines of her back leading his eyes down to her hips, supple swells flaring outward - and sweeping further into the mouth-watering globes of her perfect ass. A full moon of delicious green, set upon a pair of long, lovely legs, so full and toned.

Garen swallowed, feeling his prick throb against the confines of his trousers, his tool now fat and twitching madly with need.

The she-orc gave a soft snort, casting a look over her shoulder - bright eyes smoldering and daring. She finally turned to face him… but Garen couldn’t meet her eyes. Not when a magnificent set of green tits swept into view. Great teardrop swells hung under their own heft and weight, sitting proudly upon the she-orc’s chest. Each was capped with round nipples of even darker green, set within areolae the size of silver crown coin.

Below those bountiful breasts was even more delectable sweetness. A flat and toned tummy, a delight of faint muscle lines and a navel that somehow seemed soft and lush. Leading his eyes down to the nexus of his desire, the slightly plump mound set between her full and supple thighs. Her womanhood, the prize that would make Garen a man, the silken lips that would be his final threshold. The hint of pink that he could see stoked the fire inside his young heart, making it hammer in his chest.

Finally, Tura’s voice broke Garen from his enraptured state.

“I assume the purpose of this meeting is the same as the first?” She spoke, more of a statement than a question. She set her hands on her hips, the look on her face telling Garen she still expected an answer.

Garen sucked in a quick breath, tearing his eyes from the she-orc’s breasts, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

“Correct.” He grunted so that his voice wouldn’t crack.

Another look flashed across Tura’s face, glittering in her eyes. The corner of her lips curled upwards. But only just barely.

“Then I’m guessing you’d prefer not to waste any time.” She said, her voice almost a pur.

She turned and crawled onto the bed - his bed - and Garen found himself enthralled by the movements of her body, the faint swaying of her breasts, the tiny ripples traveling through her soft flesh. Every inch of her was magnificent, her entire body a work of art. The wild emerald goddess that was his to conquer, to tame. Up on the bed she stood on her knees, looking down at him expectantly.

“Good guess.” Garen damn near croaked. But his nerves did not fail him then. Nor would they for the rest of the evening. Tonight he was to become a man.

His body cried out, demanding to know the joy of Tura’s body. The primal urge was strong, frothing within his boiling blood. So Garen obeyed. He moved towards the bed, advancing on the she-orc that would be his.

He removed his tunic first, quickly tugging the loose shirt over his head - he didn’t want to take his eyes off of Tura any longer than necessary. He tossed it away to a far corner where it was immediately forgotten, unlacing his trousers next. Soon they were gone as well, his burgeoning cock spilling forth into the open air as he kicked the last of his clothing away.

The air was cool on his naked body… and yet Garen felt hot. His blood steamed in his veins, every inch of him thrumming with desire - his young mind clouded with dark, primal visions. His lean chest rose with deep and heavy breaths, a shiver rolling through him as he caught the she-orc’s faint musk in the air.  There was one thing that drove him on, taking dominion over his senses - Garen Corvas wanted to fuck.

Tura was gloriously naked, willing, and waiting for him. So the young duke went to her. The human noble and his orc concubine locked eyes, heat and desire meeting in their shared gaze. Tura turned away from him then, offering up her sensual back and plump-yet-firm backside. Garen groaned at the sight, an almost pained sound. She was driving him mad. And it had to be on purpose!

The teenager crawled up onto his bed, his cock twitching angrily, swaying down between his legs like a pendulum of meat. Garen knew he was a gifted youth and that his manhood fared more than well against men decades older. But would it please Tura, he wondered. She hadn’t seemed disappointed with what she saw in the bathhouse.

There was only one way to find out. And with his swollen cockhead pointed right at Tura’s succulent, green ass, Garen knew there was no going back. Garen came up from behind, his thick prick making first touch upon the soft swells of Tura’s buttocks.

Warm. She was so warm, almost enough to make him whimper. His heart pounded, shooting hot blood through his body, and driving all reservations from his mind. Garen pushed on, embracing the she-orc.

His cock slid down, caressed by her soft cheeks, settling nice and snug between Tura’s thick thighs. He pushed on, shuddering as his shaft felt the delightful softness of Tura’s skin - and the blazing heat emanating from her sex. His hands came upon her hips and his blood and bones bellowed with joy at taking hold of such an exquisite woman again.

His fingers sank into the flesh of her hips, finding her body pliant to his touch. But his hands didn’t stay there. They slid around to her tummy, setting flat against her sculpted abdomen. Garen growled as he felt the muscles there just under her skin. His she-orc was a strong, healthy specimen and it pleased him. Then he reached higher, palming her tits. So big and plump, they overflowed from his eager hands. He groped as much as he could, desperate to touch, to have, to claim.

Grunting, he planted kisses to her back, eager to taste her as he did on their first evening together. It wasn’t nearly so sweet as having her tits in his mouth, but Garen was delighted to enjoy every inch of Tura’s body. Then he bucked his hips against her ass, making those green cheeks wobble… and Garen heard Tura let out a tiny gasp as his cock slid against her cunt. The teenager huffed out desperately, drunk on lust. Drunk on Tura and her luscious, green flesh.

“Lusty lad, aren’t you?” Tura breathed out, reaching back behind her head to run her fingers through his hair. With her other hand she grabbed back at his waist - not to push him away, but to draw Garen closer.

Garen let loose another grunt, sounding more beast than boy. He bucked his hips again, harder this time. Tura gave a small hiss, her hand on his hip squeezing harder.

“Gods…” The teenager slurred, wicked delight stirring in his heart as he felt Tura’s slick arousal drip onto his fat cock. He grabbed desperately at her breasts, his fingers seeking her pebbled nipples. He pinched them softly, smirking as he heard his she-orc gasp at his touch. “You drive me so mad, Miss Tura.”

“Clearly.” Tura shot back in a slightly shaky voice. She then rolled her hips and ass back against him, defiant in the face of his near-feral lusts. Her next words came heated and sharp. “But how mad, exactly? Show me.”

Those two words were all that was needed to push Garen over the edge. His blood was up, boiling hot in his veins, making his whole body a furnace. Tura’s scent and the silky softness of her body, together they drove him to the brink, turning him feral. He was no longer a noble heir, but a mindless beast in rut. The only thing that spurred him onward was his overwhelming urge to fuck.

Growling, the teenager’s hips drove forward, slapping his groin into Tura’s buttocks in short, frantic thrusts. Every impact sent her full green ass rippling and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin only stoked the fire of Garen’s lust into an even bigger blaze. The sensation of her soft thighs stroking his shaft was divine. But Garen knew it was only a taste of the real treasure.

He drew one hand away from Tura’s breasts, reaching down to angle himself as his hips retreated from her ass. The young duke grit his teeth, his gut stirring as his cockhead prodded at Tura’s slick folds. She was wet and he could feel her arousal glaze his swollen tip. His cock twitched, just as eager as Garen was. So desperate was the desire to be there, to sink deep into that blissful heat.

Garen’s hips surged forward and he groaned as he was enveloped in those silken lips. He could hear Tura as well, the sweet moan spilling from her lips as he sank his cock inch after inch into her molten core. Her cunt parted for him, pink petals gliding down his shaft as he skewered her from behind. He could feel her body shudder in his arms, could feel her pussy quiver and clench around his manhood. Garen pushed on, sinking even deeper, more and more of his length sliding inside her until Tura’s ass was pressed flush to his groin - and his balls brushed against the backs of her thighs.

Warm and wet. That’s what it felt like to be a man.

But Garen did not stop there. To know the feeling of womanhood was only the beginning. Now, he was going to conquer it.

All other thoughts were sent from his mind. Garen Corvas only had one purpose then: to rut, to fuck. With Tura’s body in his arms, her soft flesh beneath his hands, the heat of her presence and her musky scent making his head spin, Garen was brought low into a more beastly, primal state. There was no plan, only pure desire. A creature driven only by his urges.

He fucked her, his arms coiled tight around her belly while his hips worked furiously, punching his cock into her soaking cunt like a piston. It was exquisite, the sensation of heat and wetness engulfing his prick so delectable that Garen almost wanted to weep. Instead, he grunted like a savage, growling into the back of Tura’s neck like some sort of feral from the mountain clans.

Tura’s moans were tiny, sweet songs, each one different, each one the same. They filled his ears, sending the young heir further spiraling into lustful madness. He made her produce those delightful sounds, even in his primal state he knew that. His chest swelled with brutish pride, mingling with the wicked high that came with having such a splendid woman. But the beast that Garen had become wanted more than moans. He wanted to hear his she-orc scream.

Faster and faster, his body worked against hers. His hips swung back and forth at a furious pace, slapping loudly against her delicious green ass.

PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP

Music of the flesh, lewd as the gods could make it.

But no matter how ferociously he fucked her, his she-orc never faltered down onto all fours. She remained standing on her knees, enduring his feverish rutting with defiant strength. Had Garen been of a more sound mind, he would have smiled. That was the special allure of a she-orc, the mingling of fortitude and femininity.

Tura was a prime specimen of her race. Taller than Garen by some inches, power clear on her sculpted body. Yet at the same time she was bountiful in her softness, muscles joined with succulent curves to create the work of art that was Tura. And tonight she was all his. Every night. So long as his family owned her contract, her body belonged to him.

That was why Garen had to claim her. How many other boys his age had this sort of opportunity? When the gods offered a prize, the wise didn’t waste it. And it was only right of him to take what she offered. The joining of the human man and the orcish woman was normal, almost a tradition for Garen’s people and even his family.

As he enjoyed the delights of she-orc cunt, Garen briefly thought of his ancestors, knights of old who took up the sword of House Corvas. The brave, strong men who slayed savage orc chieftains and took she-orcs as brides and concubines. Now Garen was just like them. A knight in all but name, triumphing in his own daunting task. Tura was his she-beast and his cock was his lance. Skewering her juicy cunt in the name of his house.

And Tura was happy to be claimed. He could feel it, her velvet folds caressing his cock so lovingly. And he too felt her hands reaching back to grab at his hips against, pulling him forward, deeper inside. He heard her lovely voice, so sweet and strained, sputter out curses in her old tongue - which petered out into weak, trembling moans.

That sent him over the edge. His senses overwhelmed with heat, his cock drowned in her molten honey, Garen Corvas felt his whole body seize in ecstasy. Getting his cock wet made him feel mighty, but the chance to spill right into Tura’s weeping cunt made him feel like a god.

“Gods… Ah, fuck!”

The teenager let loose a deep, guttural howl, slamming his hips hard against Tura’s ass, forcing his shaft as deep as their bodies would allow. The young duke felt the tremendous rush from his churning balls, the sublime sensation of frothing hot seed shooting deep into the she-orc’s needy sex.

It was perfection. The triumph of becoming a man.

Garen managed a weak, tired laugh with his face pressed into the back of Tura’s neck. He planted a small kiss there, soft and gentle. Then the strength left his body and he faded into the thick clouds of sleep.

-  -  -

Tura breathed in, slow and steady. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the beads of sweat that collected on her brow. Her whole body felt warm, like her belly was a furnace. But the pleasant heat was now dying down, slowly fading.

She stared at the naked, sleeping human, her eyes studying his youthful face. He looked peaceful, content - a far cry from the rutting beast he had been shortly before.

The teenage heir to House Corvas had shocked Tura with the sheer ferocity of his fucking. He had been frantic, feverish, and possessed little rhythm or grace in his thrusts. Typical for a teenage virgin, Tura noted. But had he been bad?

Tura drew her eyes down over his lean, pale body until she settled her gaze on the softening cock between his legs. Even wilting it was no small thing, thick with a head that was bulbous enough to spear past the folds of his foreskin. That was the cock that almost brought Tura to the edge.

Not bad for a first-timer, the she-orc admitted to herself. But I still didn’t finish.

Again, Tura felt a sliver of disappointment. Even with his frantic fucking, she’d been getting something from their rutting. She could feel her cunt ache then, a yearning for more of what Garen had been giving her. A solid, hard fucking.

Tura sighed, feeling his seed start to dribble down her inner thighs. He left his mark well enough, she noted with pursed lips. Reminding herself to take some herbal tea to prevent any complications, Tura rose from the bed. Though she didn’t take her eyes off of Garen.

The lad was gifted. He had talent. But he needed more if he was going to conquer her.

“You have a lot to learn, young duke.” She spoke softly, reaching out to run a finger down the length of his manhood. “A lot to learn.”