The Story Of A Lifetime Ch 09

Life goes fast sometimes. The days seem slow, but the weeks, the months... those go by fast.

It felt like one day I was seeing Davor's home for the first time. Our home. A multi-roomed tent on a wooden base, with thick fur rugs that made it feel like a proper solid house.

I didn't really get the whole "living in tents" thing, but the way Davor explained it, orc culture (at least in the First Fire clan) was hypothetically nomadic, so everyone lived in tents. All the buildings were tents, intended to be picked and moved when needed. Except for the large wood and stone structure that served as a church for their many gods as well as a convenient meeting place and the city's heart. But as time went on, the clan stopped moving, and the tents all became permanent fixtures behind the tall walls of stout timber and the trench that circle it.

I argued that meant they weren't actually nomadic, but Dav (and maybe the whole damn clan) saw it differently. Sure they were never going to leave, but they COULD leave. I guess that makes a difference.

Anyway, I moved into Davor's comfortable tent, and Davor junior got his own room. A few of Davor's friends came over and measured Junior's room, and they worked together to make a beautiful handmade crib in just a few days. The clan was like that, seeing where help was needed and coming together to make it happen.

The days went by, and slid into weeks, and it felt like I had barely blinked before a season had passed. We'd hit big milestones, like Davvie going from clinging to walls to fully running around with the other kids, saying "dada" for the first time, learning his first words in Orcish. By now he was picking up Orcish as a third language as fast as I was, if not faster, and we practised that, Amellan, and Elven in our home.

Davor learned a bit of Elven too, although I had to struggle not to snicker at his pronunciation. I'm sure my rudimentary attempts at Orcish were just as bad.

Davor and I had our first big fight, and our second, and during our third I was genuinely worried we might break up. In the end, Evelynne and Krugga had come over and mediated. I learned to understand Davor a bit better, and how he always meant what he said and said what he meant. We patched things up, and came out the other side stronger.

Then, Evelynne gave birth to her daughter. Arkura was named after Bolarr's grandmother, apparently, and had her mother's big brown eyes. It wasn't too long afterwards that Dav gave me the first big shock of our new relationship when he casually asked whether I had ever thought about another child. Arkura's birth had been long and pretty rough for little Eve, but I'd be lying if I said those pudgy green cheeks hadn't ignited a bit of baby fever in me.

The topic was big and daunting, but we talked about it. And talked about it. And talked about it.

He mentioned how close together most orc siblings were in age, and it got us talking about the difference in ageing among the various races. Which led to my second big shock.

"You're only twenty-one?" I exclaimed, my jaw almost hitting the surface of the table where the two of us and little Davvie were eating.

"What's wrong with that?" Davor asked, looking genuinely confused.

"That means when we got together the first time, you were... you were only eighteen?" My stomach turned at the idea. He'd been just a kid. I had thought he was older than that... at least twenty five.

"I'm not sure I understand the problem," he said, and even as I processed this huge load of information, a little piece of my mind was busy noticing the way he got that little scrunch on his forehead when he was really thinking about something. The silly romantic part of me wanted to lean forward and kiss him between the eyes until that little scrunchy look of concentration was replaced by that big smile of his. And then I'd kiss him until that smile turned into another kind of look...

I shook my head to clear my distraction. "Eighteen is so young."

"For having a kid?" he asked, still looking confused. "Remember that lady we stopped and talked to earlier today? The pregnant one?" I nodded, and he continued. "She's got a one-year old, and she's pregnant with a second child. Heck, it could be twins with how much she's swollen up. She's only nineteen."

"Then, she," I stuttered. "She would have been just seventeen when she got pregnant the first time."

"That's pretty normal," he told me. "Most younglings start being interested in dating around thirteen or fourteen, start fooling around not much later than that. I was... late... in that way. I didn't get together with someone until I was sixteen or so. Not uncommon to see someone starting a family by eighteen, maybe have a couple kids by my age. If they're interested, that is. No one has to, of course, I'm not trying to pressure you."

"I guess, it's just different... where I come from," I finished lamely. "Or maybe because of my elven blood. I guess my human friends I'd grown up with were... 'fooling around' by sixteen or seventeen. A lot were married by eighteen or twenty. But none of them were too interested in me that way... I still looked like a kid, even though we were all the same age. 'Ten or twelve', that's how old one of them said I looked. I didn't start dating until I looked more-or-less like an adult. Thirty or so?"

"Thirty?" he asked, incredulous.

"Sure. My elven father would have rathered me to wait until I was fifty or sixty. The only reason he didn't insist on it was that I wasn't fully elven."

"You started seeing guys when you were thirty?" he confirmed again, and I nodded.

"I'm almost forty now," I said, finishing the thought for him. Suddenly, irrationally, I was worried he was going to reject me. I'd spent so long among peers that aged faster than I, the same curse that I could see Davor Jr. already starting to struggle with as his playmates grew in size and maturity quicker than him. Old fears briefly resurfaced, fears of rejection, of not fitting in, of being too different.

"Forty," he said, wonder and awe twinkling in his eyes. "Gods above. You don't look a day over... if you were an orc I'd put you close to sixteen or seventeen. Forty is what we'd call middle-aged. And you don't look like you've aged a day since we met."

My stomach twisted in anxiety again, this time about something far more profound than fears of rejection. "Davor... how long do orcs live?"

"An orc could probably live to eighty, maybe, but I've never met one that old."

"Eighty?"

He nodded. "Urzul and Zarod? The old couple? They're probably only a bit over seventy."

My mind reeled for a moment, and the excitement faded from the room as we really thought about what that meant for us. "What about elves?" Davor finally asked, his voice quiet. "And half-elves?"

"I knew an elf in Imlatine, an old, old woman. I called her Granny, like everyone else." Davor nodded in recollection, since by this point he had heard my whole story from start to finish. It said a lot about his willpower that hearing about all the guys I had fucked didn't scare him off. Actually, it had excited him a bit, but that was neither here nor now. "She never told me her age, but I gathered she was over eight or nine hundred years old, but probably not as much as a thousand."

"A thousand years?" he asked, the green skin of his face looking unusually pale. Grey. "That's dozens and dozens of generations..."

"Granny said she'd only known a handful of half-humans in her life, and the actual ageing seemed to vary from person to person. But three hundred was her guess for my lifespan, maybe up to four hundred."

"Three hundred years," he whispered. We stared down at the table as the full ramifications of that settled on us for the first time. We both glanced over at Junior as he tipped an empty plate off the table and watched it topple. If his father's people had a lifespan of maybe eighty years, and mine was over three hundred... What about him? Would he pass of old age at two hundred? Younger? I could very well live long enough to see our grandchildren pass of old age.

"I think that's why my dad left," I told Davor quietly. I kept staring at the table, unwilling and unable to look up and see how he might have been looking at me. "Seeing us age, seeing me grow up so fast, seeing my mother's relatives age and pass away... I think it broke his heart, knowing he would outlive us all."

"If half-elves don't date until thirty, you must be able to have kids at a hundred," he said, bringing the conversation back to where it had started.

"A hundred and fifty, Granny figured."

"I guess we're not in too big of a rush, then," he said, and we both cracked up a bit. It hadn't even been that funny, but at times like those, sometimes you need to laugh at something dumb.

It was two or three months later that Davor senior came home, and found me already waiting for him. Wearing just the green lingerie that he liked so much. "You got home before me?"

We both worked as travelling traders when there were supplies to move and the roads were passable. In the off season, Davor worked odd jobs wherever the clan needed him. I'd taken to working with the local herbalist - he knew the plants of this area better than I knew my own body, and I taught him elven herblore from across the ocean in return. Under the combined hands of orc and elf, the clan's garden of medicinal herbs was flourishing like it never had before.

"I'm wearing my sexiest little shift, and no underwear," I told him in my sultriest voice, with just a tinge of pleading and faux-whining, "and the first thing you want to ask is how I got off work quicker than you?"

"Where's Davvie?" was his second question. Even as he asked, I could tell he'd already realised Junior wasn't here tonight. His whole body seemed to be coiling, like he was ready to pounce on me.

"Eve offered to have him over for a visit," I told Davor, biting my lip as he took a playfully menacing step towards me.

"So, we have time to..."

"She offered to have him stay the night, and he won't be back until midaf-" The rest of my words were cut off as Davor leapt at me, so fast I didn't even have time to try and dance just out of his reach. His hands were on me in an instant, one behind my back and the other holding my chin as he mashed his mouth into mine. "Mmf," I managed.

"I have you all to myself for a whole day?" he asked, and his kissing grew even more desperate. Hungry.

"Well, I wasn't planning on inviting anyone else to join us," I told him jokingly. We'd already had a foursome that one time, of course, but we hadn't ever talked about doing it again.

He scooped me up in a rushing motion, and I squealed in delight as he threw me over his shoulder like a giant stealing a princess in a children's story. Except when the ladies in those stories squeaked and squealed, they probably weren't feeling quite as aroused as I was right then. That would have made for a very different fairy tale, indeed.

Davor laughed loudly as he dashed into a separately partitioned area of the tent. There was a larger main area with a cooking area as well as seating and a table for when it wasn't nice enough to cook or eat around the big fire outside. There was another, smaller room that could have been for storage, but was big enough for a decent size bed for Davvie and a playspace. The last room had a large that took up half of the whole tent, and that's where Davor the first was bringing me in such a hurry.

I giggled uncontrollably as he swung me off his shoulder and all but tossed me onto the bed. Even after half a year together again, it sometimes still amazed me how big and strong he was.

I think Davor was a bit above average in height for an orc, definitely standing taller than a lot of adults he passed. But Krugga, and Eve's husband Bolarr, were both taller than Dav, and Mazon was even taller than that. Mazon would probably stand seven feet tall, as the people of Amella would measure it, and Davor was probably less than half a foot shorter.

Almost all the orcs were taller than me though. Even Zarod and Urzul were tallen despite having apparently shrunk a bit with age. Only a handful of adults here were actually shorter than me, including Evelynne the human.

Davor was almost a foot taller than I was, and when he loomed over me like this the height difference seemed even larger. But I liked how he was bigger and stronger, how his broad body seemed to block all the light in the world when he was over top of me. His big arms and strong back were meant for holding my son and me, and keeping us safe. But tonight, I was mostly looking forward to the "holding me" part, and I giggled again as he crawled up my body.

He pressed his mouth to my stomach through the thin green cloth and kissed me loudly. I sighed and ran my hands over the short hair on his head as he slowly worked his way up. He'd been keeping his head shaved when I met him, but had taken to growing it out just a little bit lately.

He kissed his way up my stomach until he reached my breast, where he licked and swiped his tongue across my nipple through the fabric. He pressed his mouth more firmly against my breast, pulling my quickly stiffening tip into his mouth and brushing his teeth against it. "Careful now," I gently reprimanded him. I wasn't scared about him being too rough: I knew in my heart of hearts that Davor would never hurt me. Not to mention, we both knew full well that I liked it a bit rough sometimes. And Davor was very good at telling when that was what I wanted, and then giving it to me. "Don't you dare tear my sexy lingerie, mister," I finished.

"Then we'll have to get it out of the way, won't we?" He scooped under my back and lifted me off the bed with one hand, then pulled the slinky chemise over my head and tossed it aside in one fast motion.

I giggled again at his mock-savagery, then bit my lip in anticipation as his eyes slid hungrily over my body. They widened slightly when they settled on my legs pressed together, and the little triangle of nude flesh between them.

"I told you I wasn't wearing any underwear," I said, slowly spreading my legs to show off for him. I had freshly shaved just this morning, and the entire expanse of my pussy and mons was completely hairless.

I had noticed in the public baths that a lot of orc women liked to keep it 'natural' down there. Some trimmed a bit, some shaved around the area, but few women liked to go completely hairless on their genitals. But I knew it drove Davor absolutely wild when I went hairless, so I made sure to be completely bare for him today - to make it that much more special.

"Not a string of fabric on you," he crooned, eminently pleased. "Why can't you just be naked all the time?"

Then his mouth was between my legs, and I eagerly spread them even more for him. He planted kisses all around, on my waist and my hips, down to my thighs, and just above my clit. He kissed around in a circle, slowly drawing closer to my core.

"You want me naked all the time?" I asked as I wiggled in anticipation of the coming pleasure.

"You're beautiful." Kiss. "Radiant." Kiss. "Divine." Another kiss. "It seems a shame to cover it up."

I moaned as his mouth was finally drawn to my slick core, where I ached for him to be. "If I was naked all the time, you wouldn't be able to help yourself," I complained in a whiny, flirty voice.

He grunted his approval, the sound of it muffled by my pussy as he covered me with his mouth and started running a tongue up my length.

"Wherever we were, any time of day, you'd jump on me any time you saw me," I went on, and he growled like a terrible, horny beast. I couldn't help but giggle. He kept lapping at me, making my body writhe. "You would be liable to bend me over and take me right in the middle of the square. Right in front of the church."

He nodded his head against me, then slid his tongue down the slick space between my lips before starting to slowly push it inside of me.

"You would be insatiable," I told him. "Fucking me wherever, whenever. Everyone would see."

I had suspected Davor had a little bit of an exhibitionist streak in him, and he all but confirmed it as he started ravenously eating me out. His tongue flicked in and out of me, then up and down my slit, like he was gorging himself on my taste. Then, finally, his lips were wrapped around the top of my pussy, and his tongue flicked over the swollen bulb there.

"Mm," I moaned as he passed his tongue over my clit again. "That's so good, Davor. Would you eat me out in public too, just like this? Just pick me up and throw me onto a box and devour my pussy in front of the whole world?"

He groaned, and the vibration of his throat combined beautifully with the way he was sucking at my clit. I looked down to see his eyes meeting mine. His lower face was completely concealed, squashed against the pussy that he was so expertly licking, but his eyes told me enough. They told me how horny he was, how desperate he was for me.

But I wasn't done yet. I wanted to whip him into a frenzy before I gave him relief.

"Hm. What if you weren't nearby to satisfy me? What if I was walking around all naked, dripping and horny, and some other male found me? Mazon or Ausk, even. Or maybe just a whole crowd of orc boys, all horny and eyeing me up..."

He paused for just a moment, and I had a fleeting worry that I had gone too far and made him uncomfortable, ruining the evening I had planned. But then he was growling again, rumbling in his throat as his tongue flicked back and forth in a frenzy. I sighed in relief, and no small amount of sexual pleasure. He had gone crazy watching Ausk and Mazon fuck me three years ago, and I had been wondering in the last half-year whether that was something he still thought about. Evidently it was.

"I could imagine them wanting to touch me. They still do, you know. I've seen the way they look at me when I'm in the baths." He grunted, somewhere between an affirmative and a primal sound of an animal marking its territory. "Maybe I'd even let them," I went on, sliding my hands up over my stomach until I clutched my breasts. I pinched my nipples and rolled them as Davor watched, putting on the best show I possibly could. "It's good to share with friends, after all. But my pussy? That's for you only."

He pushed harder with his tongue, stroking it back and forth and swirling around my clit. I felt liquid pleasure build up inside of me and overflow, probably getting all over his chin. "I'm yours," I promised, still dirty-talking, but also making a deeper promise. He seemed to pick up on both halves of the message, if the loving look on his face was anything to go by.

"Now get up here and fuck me," I begged, but he insisted on tonguing me for a few moments more before moving. Maybe he kept me waiting just to taunt me, to tell me that he's in control. Or maybe he just really liked the taste.

Then he was crawling forward, nudging my legs with his knees as he moved in close. He took his long, thick, shaft in hand, and gave it a few sensual strokes as he looked down at my naked body. Like an explorer wondering where he would like to visit next, I thought. Or like a warlord looking over his domain, the rewards of his conquest. Davor looked passionate, almost as lustful as I'd ever seen him, but I decided to push things just a bit further still.

It's a special day, after all, even if he didn't know it yet.

I ran a finger down between my legs, and slowly stroked my pussy in front of him. I spread myself a little, like I was showing off just how nice it was. "What am I wearing?" I asked, and he paused his stroking motion to look me over from toes to face. The heat of that gaze was so intense I almost feared it would scorch my skin.

"Nothing," he answered in a shaky breath, obviously eager to dive into me, but holding onto his patience through sheer willpower.