I was obliged to prove myself repeatedly in wrestling matches and mock combat, as well as drinking and boasting contests (though I decline to confess my prowess – or lack thereof – in either). Vilja joined in as well. Although she began the night shyly performing on her lute and singing, she soon progressed to challenging me to arm wrestle – having often bragged about her ability versus her brothers. Losing that, she professed herself thirsty, so I brought her another flagon of Blackbriar mead. Whilst I was not counting, I estimated her to have consumed at least two of the heady brews already. “Oh, thank you.” She drained half of it small tits in one swig, wiped her mouth with the deepthroat back of one hand ere she Hardcore downed the remainder. “I’ll tell you what.” Oh no. I knew what was coming. “Why don’t I show you what we do in Solstheim? It will be fun – come on!” Jumping up on a table, she began to dance, writhing as the local bard began a tune and the crowd stomped and clapped, keeping time. “Awww… isn’t this fun?” she beamed. I gazed blowjob at her, no longer even slightly embarrassed by her behaviour; I felt only love and admiration, enow to Shout it at her, project it as through will. Orcs kept thrusting drinks at her, and she did her best to keep up. She leapt from table to table, a roar erupting as she stumbled or stepped in the anal remains of someone’s meal, knocked over a tankard. Many greenish-grey hands kept her from falling – a few, I noted with some annoyance, a bit too helpful, lingering overly long in places that were not the most likely spots to save her from falling. Yet this, too, I had learned was an Orsimer tradition: A near-orgy would ensue after a wedding, but although the festivities would begin communally, most paired off with their usual spouses into their own huts or rooms (many of which were shared in any case) ere long. For now, however, the night was heating up as Vilja continued to dance – and imbibe more spirits. Here and there, a few orcs began the celebratory rites, biting each other’s lips bloody – hardly avoidable, given their tusks – as they roughly kissed. A few even swatted one another’s cheek or buffeted an ear, playfully professing their love and lust in the orcish way. Soon, clothing and armour made its way to the floor – including, I was suddenly horrified to see, Vilja’s! Several green hands steadied her as my love stepped out of her blue dress, more than one on her round buttocks as others held – or rather stroked – her ivory legs. Again I restrained myself; orcs frequently pawed at one another thusly, going so far as engaging in heavy foreplay, though they rarely actually coupled with someone other than, as I have mentioned, their usual spouse (or spouses; orc chiefs, especially, were allowed – even expected to have – several wives. I briefly wondered if a female could become chief, and thereby acquire more than one husband; I felt it only fair…). The crowd became more raucous, the smoky longhouse air heavy with the strong odours of orc sweat and intensifying sex, the sweetness of mead, headiness of orcish ale. Couples and trios began to conjoin, grunts, moans, guffaws punctuating the murmured sounds of love: “You’re too pretty for an orc, but I still love you.” “Grr… Stick that in me, you great, ugly horker!” “My, what big tits you have.” “Grr! That’s the biggest sword I ever seen!” Not exactly my idea of lovemaking, but to each his or her own, I thought. could not believe what was going on. I simply pulled off the rest of my clothes and pulled the girl into a sweaty, sticky, embrace. She was a beautiful blonde with piercing blue eyes and massive tits that not even a scrub top could hide. The kids are ok to masturbate themselves, each other, or Joe and I. And the sex play is not just limited to masturbation. Ilona’s party believe we should stop dosing the drones and let them take a place in society as do human males. I do not know how long we stayed like that. Then she shook her head and darted away scared of her desires. Mandy nodded, anal understanding what the woman said, but still not liking her tone. Carol blushed at the thought, and her twat warmed as she small tits replayed the fucking over in her deepthroat head. "You know the drill, I need blowjob you The sound of footfalls would draw their attention, where they’d stare in utter disbelief, assuming their eyes were playing tricks on them or it was some kind of prank. Mark went into the suite and prepared a three glasses of Veuve Cliquot champagne. I groaned with delight as the tip of her finger once again made Hardcore contact with my anus. “No, he did not. *”I was in the right place one night for the full on wrath of 'the great savior of all who are not, what WE think YOU to be'.” I grinned at her and then kissed her.