Can't Hold It

Journal of Rowana, daughter of Rowetha
12 / 04 / 2120 of the Fourth Age

We ended up building the storage shed right over the entrance to the root cellar. I dug out the trench around the opening, mixed and poured the quick-set concrete as I set up the four metal poles that would serve as the skeleton of the shed. Any Dwarf would have called it shoddy work, I'm sure. They looked down on the Halfling pre-fab buildings. But they were quick, cheap, and easy. Hence why every shanty town outside and within every sprawl was full of familiar panels of corrugated tin, sheetrock, or plastic.

Halflings being Halflings, they'd also included a basic cookbook in the kitchen. Azzie had taken to reading it. And hunting. The last few days, she'd been gone when I woke up, out before dawn with the .22. Wouldn't come home without a hare or a couple bustard eggs. Even a snake, once, its head shot clean off. While she didn't say it outright, I think it was more about stretching out the supplies so I wouldn't have to make another run down to Bardur's. She didn't like it when I left her all alone.

Neither did I.

The pieces of the shed slid into place, and I hung the door. There was a lock, but it was a paltry thing—four cylinders, no spools or security pins. More like a polite suggestion than real security. There was no way to cover the stairs themselves, for now, but at least it had a roof over it and we didn't have to worry about water getting in.

Azzie liked it down there. Sure, she was a Uruk and could take the sun, but Orcs were creatures of night and shadow. Even the Hobbit-hold-house had too many windows for her, too much sunlight sometimes. Which was fine by me. I wasn't about to begrudge anyone their privacy, not least of ways the gorgeous green woman who shared my bed and was doing her damndest not to burn the eggs more often than not. There were times as a Ranger I would have killed for this kind of domestic bliss.

Come to think of it, I had.

I took off my boots at the door, noticed Azzie's shoes there. Absurdly, I felt like calling out to the house, to let her know I was home—but then, where else would I, or she, be? I stalked into the bathroom in my stocking feet, to watch cement dust and dirt off my arms. According to the Halfling calendar, I needed to sow the pipe-weed seeds next week. Then I could make a run down to Bardur's and...

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I turned off the water in the sink. The bathroom seemed to hold its breath. I couldn't see anything. There was a faint odor...like Azzie, when I went down on her. I looked around the small, brown-tiled bathroom. No shadows to hide in. Not even a spider could have escaped my gaze. Yet I felt...like I was out on patrol. My teeth itched, and a sudden pang of worry came to me. Where was Azzie?

Then nimble fingers undid my belt.

As pants and pistol fell down to the level of my knees, my arms closed around warm, soft, invisible flesh. That was when I understood Azzie's game. Or thought I did.

"The Age of Man is over," she said, voice husky and deep, as she tugged my boxers down. "The Age of the Orc has come."

She knocked me down into a sitting posture on the toilet. A strong hand thrust itself between my thighs. Two fingers spread my slit as the third teased my hole. Azzie's mouth found mine, and her tongue pushed its way into my mouth. I wasn't against a bit of surprise sex, even if it was a bit surreal to make out with an invisible lover...except a really needed to pee.

I pushed against her—damn she was strong—and clamped my thighs tight to trap her hand.

"Azzie!" I said, once I'd wrestled my mouth away. "I'm trying to take a piss! Give me a minute and—"

Her cheek pressed against mine. Those soft, swollen pillows crushed against my chest as she pinned me to the back of the toilet. I strained against her, but there was no way to throw her off without maybe hurting her. Even with her hand trapped between my legs, her fingers continued to tease my slit mercilessly.

"Oh, you can't hold it?" she whispered, and I felt a fang scrape my cheek. "My big, strong ranger. Is she so weak that I can make her piss herself?"

A soft ass settled on my thighs. I didn't know how much weight the toilet could hold, but Azzie apparently wrapped her legs around it. I felt her left hand grab mine. **** our fingers to twine together as she bucked, ground her pussy against her own arm as it fingered my cunny. I could feel the burning metal of the ring against my fingers. My bladder ached as my body received mixed signals, simultaneously ready to fuck and ready to pee, not sure which function had priority.

Yet Azzie had no such conflict. She relished her position of power over me. Her fingers pressed against my bared neck in a love-bite, and I hissed and tried to stand. That only made Azzie push her finger into me. Her gyrations increased, and I wondered for a moment if she was imagining what it was like to fuck me with a dick—maybe I should buy us a strap-on.

The thought of my green girlfriend packing heat did something strange to me. My stomach flipped, full of butterflies, absurdly excited. I shivered as her tongue ran over my collarbone, to lick at the sweat and dirt there. My free hand, **** for something to grab onto, seized an invisible asscheek and clung to it for dear life as we made one strange, humping mass together. Which probably would have looked ridiculous if anyone could see us, as if I was having some sort of spastic attack with my pants around my knees, about to climax into free air, clutching at nothing.

My cunt contracted around her finger as I finally lost out to her ****. My poor bladder, pushed beyond endurance, unleashed with a torrent that splashed over Azzie's hand and covered us both, soaking instantly into my shirt as a hot stream splattered everywhere as she pulled her hand out of my pussy like uncorking a barrel of ale. I shuddered and shook and moaned, momentarily helpless to all biological imperatives as I emptied myself. Until the flow became a dribble, and the last ache of climax finished.

Azzie held me all the way through it, the weight of her body anchored me to the toilet until my thighs felt like they'd fall asleep. Then I was panting, in her arms, my face buried between those tits. I knew the minute the ring came off because the lights went out. Soft green breasts rubbed against my ears as Azzie cradled me to her, suddenly soft and almost maternal.

She had never been shy, Azzie. Yet this was new. I wondered, later, as we put the clothes in the wash, whether I liked those kinds of games.