Down by the River

Cerce’s head broke the surface of the water and she managed to suck in a heaving breath. The white spray from the falls filled her eyes and she clawed desperately in the freezing water all around. She’d heard Adam screaming her name, and knew he had gone over the falls too.

For a few horrified heartbeats she clawed at nothing, her feet treading water and her soaked skirt dragging her down below the surface over and over.

She tugged off her boots and unhooked her belt, and saw the red material of her skirt instantly get sucked away by the current.

There was motion in the water not far from her, and she glimpsed a sight of Adam’s green cloak just long enough to reach out and snatch at it.

Adam’s weight dragged her along for a moment, before she pulled the cloak back to her and finally got her claws under Adam’s shoulders. She yelled his name, but even her own voice was barely heard over the roar of the falls and the smashing rocks swiftly approaching.

Her leg kicking madly, water in her mouth, eyes blinded by the hammering spray, Cerce forced herself along, dragging Adam’s unconscious form to the shore.

-

Cerce breathed out and finally stopped shivering. The fire she’d constructed had finally gained momentum and now crackled along, lighting the evening in the grassy vale she’d come to. The low hum of the falls echoed across to her, and Cerce continued laying out the clothes before the little camp.

She stood, shaking out her still damp hair. Her shirt had been soaked, and she hoped it’d dry out without too much damage. Her skirt, boots, and the lovely leather jerkin she’d only had a couple months had sadly been swept away with the current of the river, and Cerce bemoaned their loss greatly. It took her a long time to break in a nice pair of boots. Forever at her side, her heavy halberd lay on the grass nearby.

Her underwear had been ruined when Cerce crawled, spluttering and coughing out of the river, and she simply bundled up and tossed the small garments in the fire.

Cerce’s naked form was pale green in the dying light of day, and she stepped over to begin undoing Adam’s belt.

Adam was still unconscious, and so hadn’t put up much of a fight when Cerce stripped him of his wet clothes. Adam’s clothes were lighter and looked like they’d dry out well, but Cerce was certain he’d not be happy about losing any of them, regardless of the hypothermia.

His handsome features shifted uncomfortably a little as he slept, and Cerce put her hand to his brow. Freed of the soaking clothing, he was warming up a little. Soon enough he’d open those big green eyes and give her one of those winning smiles, and she’d tease him for having fuller and poutier lips that a Zenancian whore, as usual.

Adam’s body was slim and toned, with a pleasant lean figure that Cerce had seen out of his usual silk and brocade finery a handful of times before. Cerce allowed herself a girlish smirk as she pulled off Adam’s trousers and his manhood flopped out to lay across his thigh. Thick and nicely weighty, with the ashy gray of his pubic hair against his pale flesh, Cerce found that she thought the whole arrangement rather cute.

-

As she crouched arranging the clothes by the fire, she turned at a slight noise and found Adam rising to his elbows.

“Wow…” he muttered, a hand to his forehead.

“You’re awake!” Cerce said, her fangs bared in a grin as she returned to him.

“Did we go off the...” he started incredulously, before shaking his head, trying to regain his senses somewhat.

“We certainly did, right off the top. And against all chances we managed to land in the river, and not with our guts splattered across the famous white rocks like some Orc art project.”

Adam looked up at Cerce, gazing at her legs. Strong, powerful calves, long and slender thighs. They met at a thick bush of white hair, and above that, a toned stomach crossed with little scars. His gaze continued up over heavy breasts, dark green nipples, an elegant collar and swan-like neck, and Adam gave a sheepish smile as he finally met Cerce’s gaze and rubbed the back of his head.

“In the river eh? Well that explains the...well, I ah… can’t help but notice I can see your cunt, Cerce.”

She gave him a playful kick and spun, her white hair flying.

“That’s alright, you’ve got your cock out and I was polite enough not to mention it. Chilly out, d’ya think?” Cerce chirped, her wide blue eyes narrowed as she teased.

Adam groaned and raised himself from the floor.

“Here I am back from the brink of death and you’re already trying to kick me where it hurts, you’re a wicked one, Stormbringer.” Adam smiled.

He stood, shook out his ashen blonde hair and stretched. Letting out a few little hisses of pain as he did so.

Cerce watched him, and rolled her eyes. Carefree as always, and more than a little bit of a show off, Adam made no effort to cover his swinging cock as he walked over to join her at the fireside.

Sitting cross legged, Cerce closed her eyes and let the warmth of the fire relax her. She hadn’t realized how hard her heart had been hammering, waiting for Adam to show he was okay. She cracked an eye to see the thief looking at her, or at least, not at her face, and was thankful he was clearly himself already.

“For a second there...got to say, did think you might be dead though.” Cerce whispered. She met Adam’s eyes, and he shot her a winning smile.

“Takes more than being thrown off the top of a waterfall by an insane renegade Orc mercenary to stop Adam Serra.” the thief said as he shifted closer and placed an arm over his friends shoulder.

They sat there for a moment, the feeling of warmth on their bodies, flesh touching, Cerce's nails toyed on his body, running them down his arm. Adam moved to brush a lock of Cerce's thick hair out of his face, and turned it in his fingers.

“How is it so soft… It’s incredible.” Adam ran his hands through Cerce’s long white hair. Clean of dust from the road, it almost shone, and was so light to the touch it felt like silk to the hands.

Cerce turned playful eyes to him, and nudged him with her elbow.

“Well, my people have hair purely for shows of dominance and mating displays. Whereas your people have it to...I don’t know, stay warm or something? Like the repulsive pink apes that you are.”

Adam was staring down at Cerce’s naked body. Her green skin glowed in the light of the fire, and she stretched out a long leg, exhaling softly.

“Just as soft there too I’ll bet?” he asked, looking down to the large triangle of white hair on Cerce’s mound.

Cerce gave a coy shrug.

“Ah, who knows… Try me,” she said, her lips turned upward in an ever-so-slight smile.

Adam gave a laugh, but in the movement, slid his hand down the skin of Cerce’s stomach.

He traced the lines of the many little scars across her abdomen, his fingertips light on her flesh, slowly down to her high hips.

He stole a look up at Cerce’s face to judge her reaction, and found one of her white eyebrows slightly cocked, almost in challenge.

“Lost your nerve?” she asked, baring her fangs in a wide smile.

Adam shrugged and slid his hand down to brush his fingertips deep into Cerce’s bush. She gave a low gasp, her face lit with surprise.

“Nope, just calling your bluff.”

Cerce tilted her head back and laughed. Adam smiled at her.

Cerce found her cheeks were warming in a blush.

He could be a bastard and a thief, for certain, but Adam’s face truly lit when he smiled. His high cheekbones caught the light just right, and he looked positively dashing in the moment. Cerce was looking into those green eyes when she noticed Adam’s fingertips had continued to move. They stroked, they teased, and slowly they began to travel down across Cerce’s mound.

She gazed down his smooth stomach, to where a pretty line of ashen hair trailed down to his cock, shapely and lying against his thigh. It had thickened and swelled up from earlier, and she watched it slowly gain length inch by inch, the heavy head slowly righting itself. It was mesmerizing to watch.

“So other than having hair like spun snow… everything works the same with you Nadyr?” Adam asked, the coy smile slowly becoming a smirk. Cerce met it directly

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been between the legs of too many human girls… from what I understand I...ah!” Cerce’s sentence cut off in a sudden gasp, and her eyes widened.

Adam’s fingertips had slid down and parted the delicate skin, and his forefinger was brushing across the nub of flesh found there.

“Well that spot tends to get a reaction in my experience, so I can assume that things work much the same.”

His fingers began to work slow circles over the tender spot, and Cerce gave another breathy gasp in surprise.

“You always did have good hands, all that fiddling about with lockpicks,” Cerce whispered. Adam’s fingers were making firm stokes, in and out of her, and she felt her breath begin to catch in her lungs.

Slowly, Adam slid down Cerce’s body, his lips marking kisses down her as he went. The nape of her neck, her breast, her stomach. He nipped at her hip as he passed, and pushing his weight to her leg, he slid Cerce’s thighs apart to bare her.

Revealed, Cerce was a soft shade of pale pink, beneath the pure white of her pubic hair. Adam realized that, apart from the whiteness of her inner flesh and slight variations in curve and shape of the anatomy, Cerce was remarkably similar to a human woman.

He leaned in, his shoulders against Cerce’s thighs, and placed a hand upon her stomach, holding her down.

“Now… if you were poisonous...you’d tell me right?” he asked with a smile. Cerce felt his breath on her, warm and so close, and bit her lip with a grin.

“Worth the risk finding out, right?”

“Without a doubt,” Adam whispered as he kissed suddenly at the lips of her sex.

Cerce allowed her eyes to close, and rested her head back on the pile of furs as Adam lashed his tongue across the softness of her inner flesh.

Her bush was soft and delicate as spun silk, just as expected, and Adam nuzzled his nose into it as he kissed.

The taste of her was new to Adam, uniquely distinct from a human woman, but not at all unpleasant. Cerce’s juices seemed to tingle his tongue as he continued to lash it across the pale folds, and the scent of her brought to mind the sharp, wet tang of petrichor.

Cerce breathed hard and snatched at Adam’s head, grabbing a fistful of his ashen hair and pulling it. She opened her mouth to form a quip about how rough his human hair was, but failed to draw in the necessary breath without instead coming out with a breathless gasp that surprised her.

There was a heat rising in Cerce’s belly that she at first couldn’t describe. Somewhere straddling the line between pleasure and pain, it burned and rose as Adam licked at her. She gave a hiss and then a cry, and the pressure of Adam’s body between her thighs felt so perfect.

Finally, when the heat had risen so much she felt she’d simply burst, Cerce thrust her legs out and kicked Adam away.

He looked up at her in surprise, his face wet with her, and she glared back at him. She licked her tongue across her lips, and promptly reached out to push him over onto his back. He hit the ground hard, and immediately Cerce was over him, her hands holding him down.

Her breathing was hard, but slowly steadying. Cerce’s blue eyes bore down into Adam’s, and her fangs were visible at the corners of her lips.

“I like to be in charge,” Cerce whispered.

Adam could only nod, suddenly and in surprise, as Cerce leaned forward to kiss him hard on the neck.

Adam’s body was lean and firm from years on the road, on the waves, fighting and fucking and everything else Cerce was suddenly imagining. His arms were slender, but wiry, and she felt the muscles move in his sides as she struggled under her.

Cerce felt a sudden thrill from the feeling of him struggling beneath her, the touch of his naked, pale flesh. She darted forward and bit him sharply on the chest, eliciting a yelp of pain. His nipples were small and pink and clearly sensitive, and she drew her tongue across each one in turn.

Darting back, Cerce drew her claws down Adam’s sides, sliding her body down until she found herself nestled down between his thighs. Her claws rested on his shapely hips and his naked cock standing up in her face. She took the time to admire it.

Like a posturing peacock, it had puffed itself up in size significantly since earlier, no doubt to try and impress her. Standing bolt upright, it bobbed side to side as Adam struggled.

It was straight as an arrow, nice and thick around and longer than Cerce might have expected of a slender figure like Adam. Cerce wrapped the shaft in her fist and slid down the soft skin, revealing Adam’s helmet as delicately as she’d unsheathe a blade. It was big, the flesh of it shiny and smooth, and Cerce bit her lip expectantly as she eyed the thing, feeling Adam’s pulse through the throbbing of the shaft gripped in her hand.

She leaned forward and put it to her lips, kissing softly at the head. She let her lips rest there, on the soft flesh gathered under the helmet. His pulse was easiest to feel there, and it seemed to be gaining speed. Across it, Adam’s wide green eyes met hers as she stared up over his bare body.

“Cerce I…” he began.

“Shhh….” Cerce hissed, pursing her lips hard against his cock and making Adam shudder. She ran a long back claw down his naked chest, turning it with a playful twist.

“You know… asking whether I was poisonous… Don’t you think you should be more worried I’m venomous?” she asked.

As Adam opened his mouth to answer, and Cerce bit at his cock. Just a tiny nip to the thickness of his shaft, but enough to elicit a gasp of surprise and a wide smile from him. She nibbled again, teasing him, slowly up the length of him, before she arrived poised neatly over it.

She glanced up, holding him still and silent in a cold stare, before her head darted forward to swallow the length of his cock. From Adam’s mouth came nothing but a gasp, and Cerce began sucking the length of him with long, firm bobs of her head.

Watching as Cerce effortlessly swallowed his cock and continued sucking hard at it, Adam moaned. Her white hair spilled over his body as her head bobbed faster and faster, and he gripped at the hand that clawed at his chest.

He reached to push the hair from Cerce’s face, and the white locks fell out of place to reveal her wide blue eyes staring back at him, her long red tongue extended to lick up the length of his shaft in one long lash. His cock was throbbing and he felt his blood pumping, her warm mouth kissing at him as she took slow and deep breaths.

“Cerce I… I can’t take much more...” he gasped.

“Shut up,” she hissed, and immediately leaned forward to suck at his throbbing head again.

Feeling his weight shift and struggle beneath her, Cerce began to moan softly as she sucked on him, the warmth of his length in her mouth and the blood thundering in her veins. She realized Adam was moaning too, and his back arching, his hand grabbing for a lock of her hair… he let out a gasp.

Warmth flooded her mouth, and Cerce sat back, watching as Adam’s whole body bucked.

He moaned her name as a thick line of semen shot from his cock, spraying across her fingers, then another, harder than the first, sprayed up across her tits. Cerce watched, curious, as he came, her hand stroking at him until the head finished pulsing.

Cerce’s face was flush and warmed, and she made sure Adam saw the thick liquid glistening on her extended tongue for a moment. With a coy smile she closed her mouth, her tongue darting out and across to clean her lips. Adam watched the muscles of her throat convulse as she swallowed.

He fought to raise himself up to rest on his elbows, looking at Cerce who was staring back at him with hungry eyes.

“Hm… if you humans almost die every time someone plays with you no wonder you’re all so anxious all the time.”

Adam gave a helpless shrug and tried to speak, taking in a breath to steady himself.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s definitely a weakness.”

He looked at Cerce, she was sitting back, palms to the floor, her long legs stretched out and sweat beading on her brow from her aggressive display. He could see gooseflesh dappling the skin of her breasts. Her long hair, as well as the fur of her crotch, was ruffling in the brisk breeze. With a wicked smile, Cerce neatly placed a hand to her lower stomach, and let her black claws roam lower, toying with herself.

“You’ve talked about fucking me for years, you’re not giving up already?”

Adam coughed and couldn’t help but laugh. His cock, lying against his thigh and aching from the power of his orgasm, was still thick and partially erect from the sight of her alone, and he took it up in his hand, beginning to stroke it, matching the subtle movements of Cerce’s fingertips on her cunt.

“You know how our sparring usually goes. We always break for a drink before the second round.”

Cerce fingers danced, the black nails deftly sliding across the curves between her legs, and she raised one knee and allowed it to fall aside, opening Adam’s view of her even more. Cerce’s tongue touched at her teeth and across her lip as she watched his cock slowly regain its length, the head rising and bulging up larger once more.

“Bounces back fast…” she said. Adam gave a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes falling down to stare at Cerce’s tits, the green flesh beaded with sweat, and then further, watching her nails expertly toy with her cunt.

Slowly, Adam rose. His erect cock stood straight out, pointing at Cerce, and he took a step towards her. She looked up at him, at his pale flesh bright in the firelight, and her hands fall back to raise her to her elbows. Cerce’s legs remained parted, and Adam stared down at the revealed nudity of her.

“You sure I didn’t die back there? Head smashed on some rock, and somewhere you’re bawling at a funeral, bemoaning all those wasted years, hiding your true love?”

Cerce gave a snorting laugh, smiling at him.

“I suck your cock once and suddenly it’s true love all along is it?”

Adam dropped to his knees, leaning over her.

“Oh yeah, I can tell these things. You’ll have to trust me.”

He nudged her knees aside, slipping between them as he came closer. Cerce looked down, seeing the head of his cock waving an inch from her gleaming cunt and feeling a rise of excitement and anticipation.

“I trust you at my side in any fight, you bawdy bastard. Better than anyone. I trust you to hold a sword half decent, suppose it only makes sense I trust you to wield that thing half as good as that.”

Adam leaned in then, suddenly. His lips meetings Cerce’s fully and with force. She thrust forward, her breasts pushed against his chest, her claws pulling at his sides. Adam was a delicate, soft kisser. His tongue moved quickly and deftly, Cerce’s own for just a moment before retreating, and his lips kissing firmer. Cerce was the opposite, a hard and forceful kisser, clumsy with inexperience but eager to please. Her teeth brushed against Adam’s lips as she tilted her head to one side to kiss him even deeper, her tongue lashing across his lips and into his mouth. She felt the tip of his cock so close, its firmness pressing the flesh where her thigh met her groin. She reached to nudge it aside, the throbbing organ now pressing against her opening.

Adam pulled back, and she looked at the wetness of his lips and the redness of his cheeks.

“Are you ready?” he asked, breathless from the depth of their kiss.

Cerce smiled, and her lips began to form the words his heart beat hard to hear.

Fuck me.

-

There was a vibration in the ground beneath them, and Adam saw Cerce’s eyes widen before he could think to question what it was.

“Fuck me!” Cerce shrieked, and twisted her hips to throw Adam aside, tossing him clear of her body far enough that Herakk’s axe came down a moment too late, and buried inches into the ground beneath the two naked figures.

The burly Orc tugged her weapon free with a pull of her muscular arm, and roared down at Cerce.

“Two hours it took me to climb down here! Two hours, and I find you rutting, in the dirt, like animals?!”

The mercenary’s trademark red face-paint was bright across her gray skin in the firelight. Herakk had typically noble Orc features, deep set eyes above a broad nose and a jutting jaw filled with large teeth artificially filed into fangs. Her scalp was almost hairless, but for a tight single braid wound with red leather that fell down her back, almost to her behind.

Cerce immediately twisted her body and launched a kick up at Herakk’s side, which harmlessly struck the heavy fur-lined red leather armour the Orc wore. Cerce gave a cry of panic as once more Herakk brought her axe slicing down, and Cerce darted forward between her legs, clambering to escape.

Adam flipped to his feet, his body held loose and turned to the side in his practiced stance.

“Cerce, my sword?” Adam hissed. On the other side of the powerful armour-clad woman, Adam saw the naked form of Cerce spread her arms helplessly and gesture towards the falls. Adam sighed deeply.

Taking a step towards the thief, Herakk’s cruel lips twisted into a playful smile, and she gestured with a shake of her axe at Adam’s still erect cock.

“That’s more impressive than that poxy little pointy thing you were trying to take a stab at me with earlier anyway,” the Orc snarled. Her heavily accented voice was husky and vicious, and she continued to luridly gaze Adam over.
“Not half bad for a human, for what it’s worth. Nice bit of meat like you, could do better than her anyway,” Herakk gestured over to where Cerce stood, bare naked and staring the Orc down. Cerce seemed smaller to the Orc than she had previously stood, the terrifying figure of the Stormbringer, the storied warrior. Herakk had actually been anxious about the battle earlier, but now the green fleshed woman seemed little, even frail.

“You on the other hand…” Herakk said, spinning her body to fully face the Nadyr, “...are a little less than I expected somehow, Stormbringer. Always figured you’d be a bit buffer, bigger tits maybe, and that bush! What a state!”

Herakk gave a choking giggle, a harsh sound from a rough throat used to yelling war cries, and slapped a gloved hand down heartily on her thigh to enhance the impact of the insult.

Cerce came in like a shot, her naked form darting forward and striking up with a closed fist at the Orc’s jaw.

Herakk was fast, jerking her head back, and then forward into a full force headbutt that Cerce twisted to take on the shoulder instead of in the face. The Nadyr snarled and spun, bringing a knee up high, and Herakk slapped it aside with a swipe of her elbow.

The hulking leather-clad form of Herakk and the glistening green bare flesh of Cerce traded blows in the darkness. Cerce’s fists and knees flew, but the Orc was faster than her great frame suggested she was, and she checked strikes with an instinctive flair for battle.

Cerce ducked a jab from the Orc’s off hand, before sliding under a wide swipe of the axe and bringing up her fist to crunch into her opponents jaw. Herakk grunted in pain as a fanged tooth chipped off, and promptly reached to snatch Cerce by a handful of white hair and draw her close.

Pulling the Nadur close, Herakk hissed into her face, blood dribbling down her lip, before she suddenly jerked forward as Adam barreled into her from behind, his driving a foot into the back of her knee and dropping her forward in a wide armed flail that freed Cerce from her grip. Cerce used the chance she had and leapt towards the camp.

Adam struggled to hold the powerful form of Herakk in a headlock, but in second she was fighting back to her feet, her hands grabbing at Adam’s arms and twisting them painfully out of their grip.

“I was gonna go easy on you, cutie,” Herakk whispered, pulling Adam up to meet her gaze, his bare feet dangling as the Orc lifted him by the throat. Adam gave a shrug as he struggled, and his gaze darted just for a moment over the Orc’s shoulder.

Herakk’s eyes darted just in time to see the flash of metal as the flat of Cerce’s halberd slapped her in the side of the head.

Herakk tumbled to the ground like a crashing suit of armour. Adam and Cerce were left standing in the firelight, breathing hard, bruised, and laughing.

-

Cerce gave a tug on the furry collar, and pulled the leather cuirass tighter around herself, it was a little loose around the chest, to be sure.

Heavy leather leggings slapped at her thighs and the boots were good too. Sturdy, if stinking.

Up ahead, the completely naked Orc mercenary gave another roar of anger, and struggled against her makeshift manacles.

"This insult won't stand Stormbringer! The fury of clan Therakka will come for you like an avalanche! I'll personally see that you get spit roasted on a..." Herakk mumbled into the garment that Adam stuffed into her mouth, and he gave the Orc a shove forward. Her hairless body was a muscular work of art, stone grey skin crisscrossed with pale scars and decorated with multiple tattoos in curling Orcish script.

"Yeah, we got the drift of it already, cutie," said Adam, his clothes mostly dry and a little crumpled, damp soles of his boots squeaking uncomfortably as he strode behind the Orc, "It's a long walk back to Tinangels, best conserve energy."

Cerce gave a smile, watching the bare form of the Orc tread on ahead.
"You know I'd say quite the opposite of your earlier unpleasant choices of words, Herakk," Cerce purred, "Quite the body you keep under all that armour. Must all that time on the road huh? Hard life of a mercenary does wonders for the behind, clearly."

Herakk roared into her gag and threw a murderous glare over her bare shoulder. Cerce spun her halberd to rest it balanced neatly over her shoulders as she walked.

"Ah, don't worry. I'm sure the watch there will find a nice shift or something for you to put on. Wouldn't be proper to hang you stark naked after all, the gallows is right near the market."

Adam whistled, "Public execution always brightens up a dreary weekend but God forbid anyone sees a bare pair of tits eh?"

"The world's a strange place my friend," Cerce smirked, "You can do violence all day but a little bit of sex... everyone'll be surprised.