Uthul, Baelog and a male crew members

Only Uthul, Baelog and a male crew member, Vance, had any coins left to bet. The others were partly undressed, but still able to hide their nether regions. As the game heated up, all eyes were on the remaining players though with the grog involved, there was a lot of discussion and drunken wagers.

Baelog and Vance played a mean game, but Uthul was not far behind. One would not expect an orc to be so skilled in a game of wits, but she proved her merit. Despite that, for each hand Uthul won, she lost two and the coin stash in front of her began dwindling.

“To keep your coin stack alive, you need to put something else on the line,” Baelog cackled, leaning his hairy chest over the crate and tapping his fingers against a fat pile of coins. “We’ve all seen your green shoulders, Orc! How about we make this next hand worth a proper look?”

Vance let out a dry laugh, shuffling the greasy cards with a practiced flick of his wrists. “Careful, dwarf. You’re practically begging her to take your beard off. But he’s not wrong, Uthul. If you’re out of silver, trousers buy you three cards.”

Uthul didn’t even blink. A slow, dangerous grin spread across her broad green face as she reached down and unbuckled her thick leather belt with one hand, letting out a low, rumbling chuckle. “You think a few silver pieces scare me, short-stuff? Deal the cards, human. I’ll take both your stashes before the jug runs dry.”

She slung the belt onto the crate with a heavy thud, and the surrounding crew let out a collective roar of approval. The atmosphere in the hold surged from a casual game of chance into a full-blown spectator sport, with every eye glued to the table as Vance dealt the next hand.

Baelog slammed a palm on the wood, his eyes gleefully fixed on her bare chest. “That belt barely covers a corner! If ye’re playin’ for my pile, ye put up them massive green breasts of yours! Fair’s fair!”

The surrounding sailors bellowed in instant agreement, stomping their boots against the deck planks and demanding to see the main attraction. Vance just offered a lazy, expectant smirk as he held the deck of cards suspended in mid-air.

Uthul let out a deep, booming laugh that silenced the catcalls, leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Eager little pests, aren't you?” she purred, her golden eyes glinting with wicked amusement under the lantern light. “You want to see something big from an orc, dwarf? We can get to the chest later. First, let’s see if your mountain pride can handle what’s sitting between my legs.”

Without waiting for the cheers to die down, she gave her trousers a hard tug, sliding them down her muscular green thighs in one swift movement and revealing a thick, impressively heavy cock nestled in a dark tuft of hair.

The hold went dead quiet for a split second before Vance choked on his ale, and Baelog’s jaw practically dropped into his beard.

“Now,” Uthul chuckled, resting her heavy length right on the edge of the crate with a soft thud at Baelog’s eye level. “Deal the bloody cards, Vance. Let’s see who’s really got the bigger stake.”