RedCherry - Forest Trophy: Lysandriel and the Orc

In the dense forest, where sunlight filtered through the treetops and fell in warm patches on the moss, walked an elven warrior named Lysandriel. His white hair was neatly braided into a long plait that swayed behind his back. His slender, feminine body was clad in light armor with open shoulders — silver plates accentuating his narrow waist and smooth skin. He gripped a blade in his hand, but walked calmly, enjoying the daytime warmth and the rustle of leaves.

Suddenly, a massive orc warrior stepped out from behind a tree trunk. His green skin glistened with sweat, muscles shifting beneath rough armor. Orcs and elves rarely met peacefully, and the air immediately grew tense.

— What is an elf doing in our lands? — the orc growled low, drawing a broad sword.

Lysandriel raised his blade.

— I am merely passing through. Step aside.

The orc smirked and charged forward. The swords met with a sharp clang. Lysandriel was quick and agile, his strikes precise, but the orc’s strength proved overwhelming. After a few exchanges, the elf’s blade flew from his hands and landed in the grass. The orc pinned him against a tree trunk, Lysandriel’s wrists locked in one enormous palm.

— Surrender, — the orc ordered. — On your knees.

Lysandriel breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling. Resistance was useless. He slowly sank to his knees before the orc. The orc unfastened his belt and freed his heavy, already hard cock. Lysandriel lifted his gaze, then leaned in and took it between his lips. His tongue slid along the thick shaft, lips tightly wrapping around the head. The orc groaned low and placed a heavy hand on the back of the elf’s head, guiding the movements. Lysandriel worked his mouth diligently — taking it deeper, licking, caressing the sensitive skin with his tongue. Saliva glistened on his lips, the white braid hanging to one side.

After a few minutes the orc abruptly lifted him to his feet, turned him so his back faced the orc, and scooped him up under the thighs, easily raising him into the air. Lysandriel was completely in his arms — legs wrapping around the orc’s waist, back pressed against the powerful chest. With one hand the orc held him steady, with the other he guided his cock to the entrance. The thick head pressed forward, stretching him tightly. Lysandriel let out a quiet whimper as the orc slowly but firmly pushed deeper, filling him completely. Heavy hips moved in a steady rhythm, each thrust lifting the elf a little higher and lowering him again. Lysandriel’s body trembled, slender fingers gripping the orc’s forearms. The orc held him firmly, thrusting deeper and faster. The wet sounds of their joining mixed with heavy breathing. The white braid of hair slapped against the orc’s shoulder, the elf’s bare shoulders gleaming with sweat. The orc leaned close to his ear:

— Good… so tight…

Lysandriel only moaned softly in reply, his body fully yielding to the strong movements. The orc sped up, muscles tensing, and after several deep thrusts he came heavily, flooding the elf with hot seed. The thrusts slowed, but the orc still held him aloft for a few more seconds, fully inside.

Then he carefully lowered Lysandriel onto the soft grass. The elf lay on his back, chest heaving, legs slightly parted. Seed slowly leaked out. Lysandriel was completely spent, yet a faint, satisfied smile played on his lips. The orc sat beside him, resting on one knee, and silently watched him.

— Next time… — Lysandriel said quietly, — you don’t have to take the sword right away.

The orc snorted, but satisfaction colored his voice. The sun continued to shine through the foliage, illuminating them both.