Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (7a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

That night they’d slept in their respective places, as Durash’s bed was still really too small to accommodate much more than herself. The morning was busy and Durash did not even encounter her wives as she was occupied discouraging a giant from their doorstep. It was the first time that Durash got to use her new present. The sword, of course. Onyx cut through the giant like nothing, though she had to fell an angry mammoth as well. Unfortunate, but no doubt her alchemist would be pleased with the extra toes and horn.

She was just cleaning off her blade when she found herself nearly walking into Lagat. The beautiful woman chuckled at her, “Gorgeous sword.”

“Um, yes… from Kharzu.” Durash took in the sight of her wife, and happened to spot the pommel of an ebony blade at Lagat’s hip. “That dagger… from her as well?”

“Actually yes.” In response her first wife pulled it out for her to inspect, showing her the onyx blade inlaid with orichalcum just as her greatsword was. The motif was also similar, portraying an Orsimer woman like a siren, with flowing hair and a curvy body that shaped the blade. “She also made me another present.”

“Oh, what was it?” Durash started, not sure if she wanted to ask just what Kharzu had done, especially after her…other gift.

“Now wouldn’t you like to know?” Her first wife purred.

She never thought she’d heard a tone like that in Lagat’s voice before. Durash couldn’t explain why it was she fidgeted so much at that, licking her lips as she started to shy under her first wife’s regard.

“That’s alright…” the chief started, knowing that she couldn’t stop her own damnedable blushing. But she wasn’t going to let herself back down so easily. Lagat was her wife, her first, and she was owed more of Durash’s time and attention.

She’d been thinking on things for a while now, and it seemed as good a time as any to finally address the…status of their relationship. The chief couldn’t give herself the time to try and worm her way out of this. “Am I neglecting you?”

Lagat actually looked startled voiceless before sheathing her dagger. Her mouth opened to begin saying something, but then she seemed to dismiss it, gesturing for Durash to follow her to the longhouse. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the building, away from prying eyes, that she spoke again. “What are you talking about?”

Durash shored up her courage, looking at her gorgeous first wife and tried to remember that she had battled dragons before. There was no way that this could be harder. “Yesterday I was with Kharzu. I never would have come to her myself, but she took charge, made me see my own needs and her own. And I know that I’ve not thought much of yours. We were just so busy to start with, getting the hold together, and you are so much more than I deserve… Malacath would be ashamed, but I didn’t have the audacity to approach.”

“Not everything is on your head, Durash,” Lagat sighed, running her hand over the chief’s armored thigh. “I could very well have tossed you down and ravished you myself.”

The frankness of it had Durash reeling to process it; fortunately she was saved from having to think of something to say by Lagat’s lips. They tasted even better than they looked, and she could only wonder why she hadn’t discovered this sooner. As their mouths embraced she found her hands wandering to all those curves that she’d admired from afar. It was strange that touching Lagat was similar, but also quite different from her previous encounter with Kharzu. Where Kharzu’s frame was hard with muscle Lagat was softer, more pliant. She rolled into her arms, and shuddered as Durash’s hand found a supple breast beneath her tunic.

Lagat’s mouth broke from her own and started a merciless descent down her sensitive throat. Perhaps it had been how long she had been waiting for this, but Durash found herself unable to contain her voice. Before she knew it they’d made their way to the too-small bed. There was no way to describe how it felt to have her wife’s dainty tusks nipping at her neck while she was rocking in her lap. The chief was trying to keep up, but found it hard to concentrate with the wet pull of Lagat’s mouth suckling a pointed ear.