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“You know I hate dogs,” Han’zir complains, slathering his bread with butter before downing it.
“You’re lucky you have a nice ass,” I tell him, slapping it as I get up out of my chair. He yelps, then gives me a wicked smile that pulls one of his tusks up on the side of his mouth. My troll likes it when I talk just a little foul, but I have too many things to do this morning to bend him over the table and shove my cock into him.
Or be the one bent over the table. That might be even better today, but perhaps later.
I shake my head as I head out the back door. I have to check the irrigation, then collect the chicken eggs. It’s almost time to pull up potatoes and probably even the carrots. We want to plant a new batch before we switch over to turnips and parsnips this winter to restore some nutrients to the soil.
By the time I get to the barn, the sun is getting high in the sky, and I have to block it out with one arm. Today’s going to be a hot one, which should be good for the peppers. The spicier ones have sold well lately, so we doubled our crop this year. Never thought I’d be making my profit bringing seasoning to the masses.
I check the first nest, and find no eggs inside. That’s odd. The chickens are all alive and accounted for, so I guess there wasn’t a latenight visitor. The next nest is empty, too.
Maybe a weasel? All the nests have been cleared out, which irritates me. I’m not going to have eggs for breakfast tomorrow at this rate.
That’s when I spot a white eggshell. Someone or something has eaten my precious breakfast and left behind the evidence.
I search the rest of the barn, but find nothing else of note. I wonder what came through last night that took all the eggs but didn’t disturb the chickens. It all strikes me as very odd.
We really should get a dog, whether Han’zir likes it or not. I’d never admit it to him, but I’d welcome the companionship as I do my chores every day. It would love us unconditionally, and bring vibrance to a life that can sometimes feel stale.
After I finish milking the cows, I find my troll checking on the vegetables and pulling out all the choice-looking greens. He must be planning a trip into town.
“All the eggs are gone,” I tell him, and he jumps.
“I told you not to walk up on me like that,” he says, setting aside his project. “They’re just... gone?”
As if in acknowledgment of this crime, my stomach grumbles. “Yep. Left nothing but an eggshell.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Haven’t seen that one before.”
Neither have I. And the mystery remains unsolved.
That night I cook up something good, using one of the stronger peppers we grew, and Han’zir blows furiously as he tries to clear the spice from his tongue.
“You didn’t have to burn my mouth,” he whines. “There’s so much pepper in this!”
“Then you make dinner next time,” I grumble. Not that he’s wrong. I did go a little overboard, but I have an easy remedy. When Han’zir gets up to clean off our trays, I catch the hem of his pants with my thumb. He stops mid-step as I yank them down, and press myself against his back. His dick is still soft, but when I clench my big hand around it, my troll lets out a groan.
What we’re doing is, yeah, a little odd. A troll and an orc shacking up? I know. We’re outliers. But I sure love how quickly he hardens up in my grip, how soon I can get him grunting and groaning my name as I stroke him. I turn him around and shove him down into one of the chairs, then kneel in front of him, bringing his thick cock into my mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” Han’zir says, but not in the good way. He pushes me off. “Your mouth!” He rubs himself, squinting.
“What’s wrong with it?” I demand. On top of all the inconveniences today, now he’s objecting to a deep throat?
“You burned me! All that pepper, it...” He trails off. “That shit hurts.”
I roll my eyes and get back up. I guess he doesn’t want me to suck him off then. But I know somewhere else he can put that cock, somewhere that will bring us together the way I’m always hungering for.
I don’t even have to say it, because we’ve been together long enough that Han’zir can read my mind. He licks his chops, then yanks my own pants down until they’re in a pool at my feet.
“Turn around,” he barks, and I do as I’m told. I like it when my troll gets bossy. A rare treat, and one that lets me put my guard down for a moment. I watch over us, make sure we have food to eat and coin for supplies, and sometimes it weighs on me—but with Han’zir in control, I can let go.
Once I’m standing in front of the table, he reaches in front of me and wraps his big hand around my length. His fingers are warm to the touch and it sends a shiver straight from my balls to my head. I swell in his palm as he strokes. He squeezes hard in just the places I like, the way only he knows how. I’m already falling forward to put both hands on the table, absorbed in the feel of him, of his familiar hands on my body. Han’zir pumps me harder and faster, then reaches around me to grab the oil off the table. After pouring some into his hand, he runs his fingers down between my ass cheeks. Once he reaches the tight hole between them, he pauses, slathering it around, pressing one finger inside me to open me up for him. A thrill runs through me at the idea of having him inside me again, right where he fits. I grunt and square my legs, and his hand on my cock works even harder. He spreads me open for him, putting in two fingers next, and there’s seed dribbling from my cockhead onto the table.
Then he’s nudging at my ass, pushing his way into me. My body tightens up all over, resisting him at first, and Han’zir pauses. He runs his hand down my back, as if saying, relax, you brutish orc, and I try to let all my worries about running the farm go. He withdraws, slathering his seed and the oil around, then presses in again, deeper and deeper, until he’s fully sheathed in me.
“Fuck,” he groans, letting my cock fall as he gets absorbed in the moment. He grabs my hips and thrusts again, and again, and this time I stroke myself as he pumps inside of me, moaning and gripping me tight. I can feel the slightest burn from my lips on him, but it only heightens the gloriousness of having him inside me.
We may not be mates, but Han’zir knows me better than I know myself sometimes. He finds his way deep, seeking out the place that will make me explode. He buries his face in my back, his tusks almost piercing my skin. Like this, him buried in me up to the hilt, I can almost reach out and touch his soul—but it’s just outside my grasp.
