Page 56 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

“Shouldn’t we do something to celebrate?” Ingrid asks when I nuzzle her neck.

The dogs have been walked and played with. Snacks have been had.

“This is my favorite kind of celebration,” I whisper, hands sinking into her hoodie, pulling her close as we sit on her couch.

A bad eighties horror-comedy is on in the background, and Ingrid’s put up some Halloween decorations since I was here last.

“Will you go to the Halloween Ball at White Pines with me?” I suddenly ask.

“A ball?”

“Yes, a ball. Well, a ball-slash-costume party-slash-Halloween party. It’s catered, and there’s cake and music... Dancing. I mean, you can dance. I can hobble.”

“Or we could skip the party,” Ingrid whispers, clicking off the television. “Have our own little costume party right here...”

“We could also skip the costumes,” I slide my arm around her, surprised when she pivots and sits on my lap, her hands stroking down my face.

“And just move on to the tricks and treats?”

My hands slip from the exterior of her hoodie to under it, working my way up to fondle her breasts, heavy in my hands with hard nipples. “I have all the treats I want right here. What’s the trick?”

“How something this big,” Ingrid pauses to free my hard erection from the confines of my sweatpants and boxers, “is supposed to fit into something so small?”

“We could always practice.”

“Not until next weekend,” Ingrid reminds me. “You’re healing faster than they thought. Don’t want to give you a setback.”

I remember how tight her pussy was as it clamped around my fingers, how she looked, all stretched across my spread fingers, my face between her legs so I could devour and discover every inch. “I’m willing to risk it,” I rasp, undoing her bra catches.

“Yeah, but I love you too much to let you hurt yourself when we have other things we can do instead,” Ingrid says before sealing my mouth with a kiss.

Wait. Did she say that she loves me too much? Loves me? At all?

In my excitement, I forget my own strength. My hands, which had moved to clutch the waistband of her velvety-soft leggings, suddenly twist and pull, and her pants are in two halves. “Oh! Oh, shit. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“Yes, you will.” But she doesn’t seem mad. She hops up and shimmies free of her leggings (what’s left of them) and her panties, then hops back onto my lap.

Her soft, golden brown curls tickle the tip of my already leaking cock as she presses closer to my chest this time.

“Not yet?” I repeat.

“Not yet. Not... Not all the way. With other girls—”

“I don’t want to think about them anymore. Or ever again.” I shake my head and cup her cheek, bringing her forehead to mine. “I only want to think about you.”

“But when you were with other girls in the past, and they didn’t drink the tea...”

“Oh. Not much went in. Just the tip, or just mouths and hands.”

Ingrid nods, and she sways, bumping her soaking heat to my tip. I arch up and feel myself sinking into her slickness. I take hold of my cock and drag the tip back and forth across her clit, rubbing us together until we’re both moaning.

“But the tip does fit? Especially if we’ve been practicing?” Her hand finds mine, and she lifts my fingers to her lips.

My God, it’s something I didn’t even know I wanted or liked, but her mouth wraps around my forefinger and sucks while she stares into my eyes. One finger. Then two. Her tongue flicks the very tips, and her mouth closes around me, pursed lips like a promise of bliss.

“Stop that, or I’m going to come right now.” I shift, almost whimpering.

“I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”