At this point? Of course.

Chapter 5: Liquid Fire

The smell is strong, sudden, and unmistakably spirits. It is perhaps no surprise that any beverage an orc huntress might keep about her person would be as powerful as she. The orc watches eagerly, her chin rising and her strong arms folding beneath her bare breasts. They swell upwards pleasingly, and your mind starts to wander amidst her curves and the pleasing, dark peaks of her nipples. Your mind flashes with certain, lecherous thoughts...

In order to drown (embrace?) the temptation, you raise the gourd in toast and bring the vessel to your lips, taking a stiff, long pull. You swallow the burning liquid, your eyes near to watering as a feminine voice encourages you. Though no stranger to drink, this makes you falter... almost. You take another quick mouthful in defense of the original burn, your senses already pleasantly dull, disoriented. Is this what she wanted? Your eyes nearly water at the sting in your nostrils and the fire in your throat. The taste of spice and herb mingles with the bite of **** as you hold the vessel out to your new friend. Your watering eyes invite her to drink in turn.

The orc is grinning, well-pleased. In your newly swimming sight she is... still gorgeous... But she's always been gorgeous, hasn't she?

She reaches towards you with both hands, one gripping the gourd by the neck as the other boldly, warmly caresses your outstretched hand. The contact is dizzying, or is that the sudden influx of ****? Either way, the woman's touch doesn't linger. Instead, she brings the bottle to her own lips and drinks... hard... Her fine, elegant throat rises and falls with several swallows, her golden eyes taunting you warmly from above the bottle's opening.

She smacks her lips, just a little trickle of the spirits dribbling down her chin and disappearing between the valley of her gorgeous tits. Admittedly, it takes a little effort not to chase it. She passes the gourd back to you, moving a step closer and pushing it into your waiting palm. For one slick, burning moment you wonder if you should...

That moment passes and fizzles almost instantaneously.

Eagerly, you drink again, slowly, letting the fiery liquid steep your tongue until it begins to numb. When at last you catch your breath, the simple movement of the air between your lips reignites the flame. The liquor warms your flesh, especially after the cold of the bathing pool, but something else has been stirring within you at the same time. You exhale forcefully, the harsh, fiery spirits dampening your wits for a moment.

You chose this. You wanted this. Now, fully, you feel justified. At this proximity she's even more beautiful, irresistible... Could she really be an orc, full-blooded? Did the imperial elves find some impossible way to cross-breed with their kind?

No. It doesn't matter.

One strong, green hand already presses against your bare chest, gently trailing its fingertips lower. You lean in, your free hand easing a strand of hair behind the orc's slightly-pointed ear and coming to rest on her cheek. A magnetic **** draws your lips towards hers. Why resist anymore? Take her.

"Tssss," the orc hisses playfully. The back of her free hand casually deflects your chin and pushes your face to the side. Confused, you meet her laughing eyes and listen to her breathy, musical chuckle. The smolder in her gaze suggests that you didn't misread her signals, and her glassy stare roams possessively down your naked body. You wait for her next move, indulging her little game.

"Sah?" she seems to ask, the fingers on your chest roaming ever lower towards your hips. "Ah."

She sighs, snaking her other hand down your wrist to where the lacquered gourd still rests in your grip. Gently the item is pried from your fingers, and the orc wastes no time taking another pull of the strong elixir. With the slight roll of one shoulder the woman stops her caress, hooks her fingers into your hair, and pulls you to her indelicately. Something hot and wet parts your lips, and a steady stream of liquid fire follows it. Your mouth fills with orc-brew and the lash of a firm, probing tongue. Her lower tusks press into your skin with a pinch, but you're too lost in the moment to notice the pain. Then the "kiss" is ended just as suddenly as it began. She may not be one for the intricacies of human romance, but she certainly leaves an impression. You swallow hard against her ****, dueling your tongue back between her own lips as you momentarily swap the fiery brew between yourselves.

"Mmm," the orc groans, more of the brew dribbling from her sweetly parted lips. For a moment she holds your faces together, relishing the effect she knows she's having. Each breath she takes comes paired with a slow, wet gurgle or sigh from her throat. "Sah."

"Fuck," you utter breathlessly. Your head is spinning, your heart racing. A feast of flesh stands before you, but for this very moment you merely drink it in. What's about to happen cannot be stopped now. The embers of lust are fanned to a roaring flame by the endless curves of this wild woman, and it gives you focus. The orc licks her lips, slow satisfaction entering her eyes. You know what to do.