Borrowing

Journal of Rowana, daughter of Rowetha
28 / 04 / 2120 of the Fourth Age

Bebe didn't run away that first week. He had nowhere to go. No clothes except what we gave him. No food or shelter besides what we provided. The Orc was almost pathetically easy to please, to help out—he couldn't go out during daylight, but while Azzie and I worked the fields or finished setting up the curing shed, he would sleep until evening, when he would awake to clean the house, do the laundry.

Considering the change in circumstances, Bebe was adapting pretty well. Yet living in close space with two women, one of which was both shameless and constantly horny, made things...hard...on him. I could feel his eyes on us when I came in from the fields, and Azzie peeled off my shirt to **** us both into a shower. Knew he was outside in the hallway when I woke up and felt Azzie's tongue lash my clit, my little moans obscenely loud in my ears, despite my efforts to keep quiet.

Most nights, he walked around only in his borrowed boxer-shorts, which outlined Bebe's problem clearly. I couldn't exactly tell him to cover up his perpetual hard-on, either; he had nothing to cover it up with, not unless we could find some pants that fit him—Azzie wouldn't give up the camouflage pants from the assassins, since they were the only thing that could accommodate her ass, and my own pants were too big for the scrawny little twink until I could get another belt.

Azzie almost seemed to enjoy the sight of Bebe's predicament. I swore that she found more excuses to go topless or bottomless when he was around, shedding clothes for him to pick up and wash without any apparent care for the dark wet spot that appeared at the tip of the bulge at times. Maybe that made me feel jealous—but his eyes weren't restricted to just her body. I felt those green eyes on me too, when I came out of the shower dressed only in a towel, or when I went to take a piss in the middle of the night, dressed only in underwear and web-belt, Bebe was awake, watching hands clutching his sack.

I couldn't blame Bebe for taking care of himself. Masturbation is natural. Out in the field, there were designated tents for "private time." The tents weren't soundproof, and the occasional bit of incense we burned in there didn't cover the smell of spent seed. In all honesty, I was happy that he found some relief from Azzie's constant teasing. There was only one problem.

Bebe hadn't locked the bathroom door. I had opened it without thinking, and froze in place at the sight of Bebe naked, tugging at his nipple rings his rigid cock impossibly hard and swollen, the veins darker rivers of green against a cock the exact shade of ripe corn in the husk. His eyes widened as he bottomed out on what I realized was out dildo, his balls slammed into the lid of the toilet—and a hot white torrent of jizz shot two feet into the air and splattered all over my shirt.

"Varda's tits!" I swore as I felt the hot cum instantly soak through the cotton.

Maybe my tone was too harsh. I'd been unaccountably moody lately, and my body had felt a little off. Bebe rocked there, the dildo making a little bulge in his stomach as his dick spurted and spurted, each rope a little less than the last, until his dick just quivered there and leaked helplessly. A week's worth of cum painted my shirt and the floor, and he seemed to shrink back into himself, as if ready for a blow.

Instead, I peeled my shirt off and tossed it onto his still-hard shaft.

"I don't mind you borrowing the dildo. Just wash it and clean up after yourself when you're done," I said. "And next time, remember to lock the damn door!"

I shut the door and turned to see Azzie there. Her nose twitched as she drew close, and I realized that some of the semen that had soaked through my shirt had left little wet spots on my skin. Her hand grabbed at my crotch and cupped me through my pants.

"Ro," she purred. "I need you...now."

Maybe she did. Maybe it was an Orc thing. Something about the smell of Bebe on me. I tried not to think about him furiously jerking off as he ground his prostate into a fine paste with our sex toy. I tried not to think of Azzie's tongue licking at those wet spots on my chest as her hand delved into my pants. Then, as her fingers found my clit, all I could think about for a while was her and getting off. Her fingers seemed magic, the soft pads of her fingertips rubbed my clit aggressively, unrelentingly, even as her mouth found my nipples, sucked and kissed and bit.

I leaned into it. For a moment I even forgot Bebe was here. It was like the old days, before we'd rescued him. The two of us, lost in each other, Azzie playing my body like an instrument, some strange and terrible purpose at work as she frigged my slit without let up. She wanted to see me cum...and I did. My eyes rolled back into my head and my toes curled in my socks. I grabbed the sheets with both hands and I didn't even care if the Orc jerking it in the bathroom heard and popped off against as I gave vent to a squeal that was almost more animal than human, only to collapse back into the mattress as a sweaty, loose, but very satisfied mess.

Then I saw Azzie lick the blood off of her fingers.

My eyes shot open, wide with concern, wondered if one of her nails had ripped my labia or something. Then it clicked. The way my body had felt off, the moodiness, the timing was just right for that second time we were jacked straight across. While Azzie had been showing me her memories, she'd had direct access to my reproductive implant.

"You green cunt," I swore. "You turned my period back on!"