Slice of life: Orc cuddle
#11 of Twenty-minute tales
Hey, I wrote something! This is, admittedly, a bit less of a story and more of a "word painting" or similar. Just a little, descriptive, slice-of-life thing, written from the first person perspective because, frankly, I'd like to be doing this sort of thing.
Rated adult despite lack of explicit sex just due to a couple kink-related things.
As I got home from the office, my roommate didn't even look up. It was Friday. He knew I'd already had a long week. He sat on the couch - taking up about a cushion and a half of the two seats - watching something or another on TV. He said nothing and only motioned for me to come over and join him I only paused for long enough to drop off my briefcase before making my way over to him.
I squeezed into the remaining half-cushion of space available, pressing myself in between the arm of the couch and his vibrant green skin. He wasn't wearing a shirt; he only kept on a towel across his lap for modesty. That allowed the faint remnants of sweat from an earlier workout glisten in the light of the afternoon sun beaming through the windows. The sweat carried his scent, one that he knew I loved. Saving a shower for later meant we could appreciate that together, and I could appreciate his post-workout musk for a while first.
His impressive height meant that, sitting next to him, the top of my head just about came up to the top of his pecs. Or, more closely, it came up just a little under his shoulder. He didn't even look down at me before that closer arm raised up, pressed gently on the top of my head, and coerced me into the waiting armpit beneath. A place rich in that heavy yet comforting musk. He didn't ask for worship, or even expect it. He just expected me to rest there, comforted by the heat and scent of his body. I thanked him by reaching up with one hand and gently patting one of his pecs, before simply hugging myself against him and pressing my face in deeper, blocking out the rest of the world.
At that moment I couldn't easily see anything; my eyes were kept closed by the pressure of his skin against them. Every breath in and out was challenging, given how my nose was squeezed against him, but the effort was rewarded with that scent. I gave him a soft kiss, licking his sweat off my lips afterward, to more fully appreciate his taste. Though the TV droned on in the background, I tried to focus more on his breathing and pulse; I could even feel his body rise and fall slightly each time he breathed in or out, and the slow, steady beat of his heart made it easier to keep that in mind.
"Shower?" he asked, finally breaking his silence. I quickly shook my head, rather deliberately smearing his pit-sweat against my face in the process. He chuckled warmly and moved his other hand to press my head in a little deeper, furthering the sensory control he had over my body. Control that I let him have. Control that he was happy to take. After he squeezed my head for a few moments, he relaxed and settled in, allowing me to just relax with him for as long as we both needed to feel happy.