The sun was settling on the horizon, red like iron fresh out of a furnace by the time Samantha was finished with her chores around the farm. She could tell by the clouds and the way the wind was blowing that it would be rainy for the next few days. It gave her a lot of extra work to do; dredging up some more well water, rounding up the livestock into the barn and making sure the troughs were filled. She also needed to prop up the taller vegetable plants with wooden rods to keep the winds from snapping them in half and chop a few extra days worth of wood to keep the fireplace going to keep her cottage warm. She didn't manage to make it to the city market before it was too long into the day to go. It was several miles down the road and it would have been nightfall before she could get there and back. The roads were dangerous at night. She could have paid coin to spend the night at one of the city's inns before making the trip back in the morning, but it was more money and hassle than she cared to deal with. Samantha stretched as she made her way to her cottage, groaning as she felt her tense muscles loosen and heard her bones crackle and pop in protest. It'd been a couple years since the last of her children had finally gotten married and moved away. Her husband had long been dead, killed in the war almost fifteen years ago. His sword and shield rested on the mantle of the fireplace in remembrance of him, but she'd long since moved on after his death. She had a family to raise and could ill afford the time to mourn him. It was hard raising her children without their father, but she managed. Her children helped immensely around the farm as they grew up. They were gone now, but she still did okay. If her bones kept making the sounds they did she would have to consider hiring a farmhand to assist her. Maybe next season. The cottage was cozy when it was her and her children, but lately it seemed like more space than she knew what to do with. It was a good home, lovingly crafted by her husband during their first year they were married. She mostly just used their bedroom nowadays. The children's room was empty save for some basic furnishings and decorations, a lot of it junk that held sentimental value. The kitchen and living area shared the same space, the only distinction given to the living area being a cozy wooden chair that sat a few feet from the hearth. Night was fully set in by the time Samantha finished cleaning herself up after her busy day. She was ready to relax with some tea, a comfortable nightgown, and her favorite book by the fireplace when she heard the piddle-paddle of raindrops hitting the roof. She grinned to herself, glad that she had done to extra work to prepare for the weather. She could afford to relax for a while. Maybe it would rain through tomorrow and she would have a good excuse to be lazy and cozy for the day... The evening drifted on with nothing to speak of. The only noise was the occasional thunder that boomed in the sky. The only excitement of note took place in her book - a romance between a prince and a farm girl. It was a popular book, made famous several years ago for its tawdry exposition. Samantha found the story a bit trite but she couldn't deny that the author had a certain way with words. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find the scenes between the prince and the farm girl somewhat titillating. Suddenly, Samantha heard a knock at her door. She wasn't expecting any visitors. Might be trouble makers... But it could also be somebody that needed help. Gods knew her cottage was quite a distance from the city. Whoever it was probably saw the smoke of her fireplace or its fiery glow through the window. If somebody was hurt she would probably be the closest thing to help for miles. “I'll be right there. One moment!” She called out towards the door as she dog-eared her book and climbed out of her chair. There was another set of knocks before Samantha made it to the door. “Who is it?” “Its... um... a friend!” A deep, masculine voice called through the door to Samantha. It wasn't anybody she recognized. “I have many friends. Which one are you, sir?”, Samantha called back. A friend would have announced himself. She didn't know who this person was but she was suspicious to say the least. “Are you a vagrant?” The voice on the other end seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he didn't know just how to respond. “I... uh... I was hoping that you could let me inside? Its awful nasty out here.” “There is a barn a short walk from here that you can find shelter in. There is some hay for bedding. I don't mind if you use it so long as you're out soon as the weather breaks... And you don't molest my livestock.” Samantha turned away from the door, ready to go back to her book and the warmth of the fireplace, however the stranger didn't leave, calling to her through the door. “I was hoping I could warm myself by your fire, if that is alright. I'm soaked through and through! The stranger was persistent if nothing else. Samantha raised an eyebrow, growing suspicious of the bothersome visitor outside her cottage. It could be anybody, but at this point she would do almost anything for some peace and quiet. “Fine, fine. I'll open up!” She unlocked the door and pulled it open to see who was causing her so much trouble. The door creaked on its hinges in protest as the stranger strong-armed his way inside. Samantha was thrown onto the floor from the force. Instinct kicked in and she grabbed a knife from the nearby kitchen table as the stranger – now an intruder - slammed the door closed and started towards her. The man was at least two heads taller than her and probably weighed at least twice as much. He was shirtless and his muscled chest was covered in scars. The olive-green of his skin and his waist-length jet-black hair made his orcish heritage clear to her. Orcs were known to be brutish, strong as horses, and deceptively clever. The war against them was won, but orcish banditry and small scale tribal warfare was still a problem in some places. It was rare to go a season without hearing about a minor skirmish that took place within the kingdom's borders. Samantha didn't know what an orc wanted with her but she'd be damned if she just gave it to him. She threw the knife at him and it made a whooshing sound as it left her hand. “Whoa! Hey! Are you crazy?” The orc barely dodged the knife as it sailed passed his head. He seemed shocked at how close he came to being killed and he froze up just long enough for Samantha to grab the sword of her deceased husband from over the fireplace. “Alright you son of a bitch, I'm not making this easy for you!” She brandished the weapon in front of her with both hands and inched closer to the intruder. “Put the sword down, lady...” The orc put a hand out to stop her, but reluctantly drew a knife from his belt - if only so he wouldn't be completely unarmed. Samantha attacked first and the orc weaved and dodged the blade of her sword, though his attempts to fight back seemed halfhearted. He mostly concentrated on defending himself. He was surprised to find that the woman was more skilled with the sword than he would have guessed. He actually had to try to not get eviscerated. The sounds of metal on metal rang through the room as Samantha managed to connect with the orc's knife, disarming him. The orc watched as his blade embedded itself in the cottage ceiling and while he was distracted his opponent delivered a deft kick to his crotch that paralyzed him, followed by a swift cut to his thigh to bring him to his knees. She finally finished the fight with a pommel strike to his face that toppled him onto his back. Samantha capitalized on his momentary weakness, quickly dropped on top of his chest and pressed her sword's edge to his throat. “What are you doing here? What do you want?” The woman glared down at the man who was wheezing in between pained groans. He looked a little green - more than the rest of him at least – like he was going to be sick any moment. She felt little compassion for him. “Wait... wait... please don't...” The orc gasped in between ragged coughs. “Don't hurt me, I didn't want to do this!” “Do what? Attack me?!” Samantha gasped. She was a little out of breath but did her best to look threatening so the orc underneath her didn't remember that he outweighed her. The icy glare seemed to work as well on him as it did her children when they were kids. “Its a part of my rites! The elder said that I hadn't yet embraced my orc half. I needed to prove myself a man as my brethren in the past have done - by conducting a raid. You know... fight, pillage...rape...” The orc looked uncomfortable, grimacing at the things he was told to do. “I didn't want to, but I had to. I was made to go by the tribe. They wait for me to come back, but I may only return to them once the deed is done. I feared that they would exile me... or worse, if I failed.” Samantha looked him over, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. His skin was green like an orc's but facial features showed hints of humanity. His tusks were smaller and less pronounced than orcs she had seen. And his nose, while blunt and somewhat flared, was human looking. “You're some sort of mutt, aren't you, boy? You have some human in you. Stories travel about what an orc will do to the human women they catch.” “I'm not a boy! I'm more than old enough to be an adult in my tribe... And it was my father...” “What about your father?”, Samantha asked curiously. “My father was human, not my mother. And he wasn't raped. He is her lifemate, not her slave.” He looked almost offended at the notion that his parents didn't want to be together. Or perhaps he was offended at the idea of being a product of something terrible. Samantha clicked her tongue, somewhat skeptical of the stranger's story. Her blade was still against his throat. Regardless of if he was telling her the truth or not, he seemed relatively harmless at the moment. He put on a brave face, but she could see in his eyes, the way they swept from her sword to her face, that he was a little afraid. “So, what happens how?”, he asked solemnly. “It depends. Will you attack me again if I don't kill you right now?”, she retorted. The orc shook his head, at least as much as he dared to with the cold iron blade against his neck. “I didn't even want to do this in the first place! I was forced into it!” Samantha decided to take his word for it and eased the sword away from him after climbing off of his chest and getting to her feet. “Good. Get out.” The orc tried to stand up but let out a raspy hiss when he tried to move his leg. She could see the wound on his thigh where she caught him with her sword. Dark red blood stained the orc's clothing and was starting to pool on the floor underneath him. She felt a little pride that she had managed to get him so good, but she quickly sobered when she realized that the wound was more severe than the shallow cut she first thought it was. He was bleeding pretty fast. Orcs were renowned for their toughness but she wasn't sure what would happen if he went back on the road with an injury like that, especially with the weather being what it was. Samantha set her sword on the kitchen table and started grabbing medical supplies without thinking. She made a small pile of clean rags, hot water, and some herbs that she knew from experience would help to stop the bleeding and stave off infection. Even if he was a stranger who had intruded into her home, she didn't want to be responsible for his death. While the woman of the cottage gathered things from around the kitchen and off the herb drying rack hanging near the window, the orc tried again to get to his feet. He managed to make it half way before he found himself being assisted by the woman who had injured him. Together, grunting all the way, they managed to help him limp to the bedroom where her children used to sleep. Fortunately the bed was large enough for him. It was clean too, which was a plus. After laying him down she handed the orc a folded cloth to press against his wound. She then lit a few candles for light and went to go retrieve the pile of supplies she had gathered, bringing them to a table that sat next to the bed. The orc looked confused as he watched Samantha organize the herbs and begin grinding them with a pestle. “What are you doing?”, he asked. “I cut you pretty good. Did you really intend on walking... where ever it was you came here from, on that wound? If the blood loss didn't kill you first then infection would surely do you in. I'd be sending you to your death either way... And that doesn't feel right.” Samantha carefully rolled the powdered herbs in a thin strip of cloth and dipped it in the steaming bowl of water. “Open your mouth.” The orc glanced at her, a look of obvious distrust crossing over his face. She rolled her eyes at him and sighed tiredly. “Its not poison, boy. If I wanted you dead I could have done it in the other room without dragging you halfway through the cottage.” “I'm not a bo-” His words were cut off as Samantha shoved the dripping cloth tube of herbs into his mouth. She tucked it neatly in between his teeth and cheek. “Keep that in your mouth but don't swallow it. It'll help with the pain.” She began to grind another mixture of herbs. “I'll make a poultice for your leg next.” As she smashed and ground the dried leaves in a bowl the orc watched her silently. She mostly ignored him, but glanced up from her work once or twice to catch his eyes roaming over her. She had almost forgotten she was wearing nothing but her nightgown. It was modest; nothing frilly or eye-catching, but the material was thin and clung to her in a way that she couldn't fault him for staring. She wasn't quite a young maiden anymore, but he was still a boy, and boys would be boys. After a few minutes of preparation she was finally ready to clean and treat the cut in his leg, but it would be difficult to get anything done through his pants. “Those will have to come off if I'm going to heal you up.” She nodded to his clothing and the orc grew tense. “Can't you just work around them?”, he asked. His speech was a little muffled by the roll of cloth still in his mouth. “Either I take the pants off or I cut them off. Either way they are coming off, boy.”, she replied, annoyance seeping into her voice. “I'm not a bo-” Samantha interrupted him before he could finish. “Yes, yes. You aren't a boy. We'll then, if you don't want me to call you 'boy', then what is your name?” “Cagan. I was named after my mother's father. It means 'Battle's End'. It is a name meant to bring luck.”, the orc explained. “What about you? What is your name?” “Samantha. Its Samantha. Well, Cagan, I need to remove your clothes so I can help you. So just relax and let me do that, okay? If you don't want me to call you boy then you will stop being so fussy.” Samantha tugged the boots from his feet and undid the belt that held his trousers on. Carefully, she peeled the bloodied clothing away, slowly sliding it down his hips and past his thighs, revealing his semi-erect member. He quickly moved his free hand over his half-mast, trying in vain to keep himself modest. The woman couldn't help but grin. A bashful orc? She had never heard of such a thing in her life. “You've got nothing to be shy about, b- ...Cagan. I had a husband once, long ago. You've got nothing I've never seen before.” Though from the glimpse she caught of him he looked to be able to put a horse to shame, she mused thoughtfully. Cagan kept himself covered while Samantha finished removing the garment. She tossed it carelessly on the floor. It would need to be washed and stitched up before it was fit to wear again anyway. Using a fresh cloth and more water, she cleaned around the wound, wiping up the blood that has smeared and ran down his leg. It was already starting to turn dry and tacky and took a little bit of cautious scrubbing to get the worst of it off. Once the blood was mostly removed, she was able to see the wound clearly. It would definitely need stitches. “I need to grab my sewing kit. Stay put, Cagan.” Samantha grabbed a needle from the a basket she kept next to her chair at the fireplace. It took her a couple minutes of looking before she found a spindle of twine in the kitchen. She returned to the orc in the bedroom and held up the supplies in triumph. Just to be safe she held the needle over one of her candles for a few seconds until it almost became too hot to hold between her fingertips. “This should be good enough. Now, this may sting a bit, but the herbs you've been sucking on should dull most of the pain.” Samantha threaded the twine through the eye of the needle and tied it off securely before pushing the tip of the needle through the cut on the orc's leg. He took the tiny stabs with barely a sound. The painkilling herbs were doing their job it seemed. As Samantha worked she tried to make small talk to help make the experience easier for both of them. “You speak well, Cagan, like a learned person. Did your father teach you the kingdom's tongue?” “He did. My mother taught me the languages of our tribe, and the ones of our neighbors too. I learned to read and write with my father when I was a child by looking through the books my father acquired for me. It was my favorite activity. Others of my tribe like to hunt or fish. But I always liked reading my father's stories the best.” “You like to read?”, Samantha lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “I do too. I used to have quite a collection of them, mostly history and cheap little stories. I gave most of them away to my children so they would have something to entertain themselves with. I still have a few stashed here though, my favorite ones.” She carefully wiped away a small trickle of blood that seeped out from the wound as the stitches were being tightened. It was Cagan's turn to be surprised. “You have children? I have not seen any here...” Samantha grinned as she applied the poultice over the stitches. The orc tensed a little at the small shock of pain he felt once it was in place. “If it burns that means its working. It will speed up the healing and keep it from getting infected...”, she replied. She wrapped the remaining strips of cloth around his thigh to hold the poultice in place. “...And my children are all older than you. My eldest has a newborn of her own by now, though I haven't traveled to see them since before last year's harvest. I keep pretty busy around here even though I'm by myself.” “But you are so young...” He replied. “How young do you think I am, Cagan?”, she inquired with a grin. “Not old enough for your children to have children.”, he answered with a grin of his own. “You are kind... And a flatterer.” She patted him on his good leg and went to pick up his pants where she had tossed them. “If you promise not to be a nuisance then I'll let you stay here tonight. I'll bring you a blanket and do something with these clothes in the morning.” Cagan looked around the room while the woman of the cottage move around in one of the other rooms. He found his mind wandering to the image of her in her nightgown. After it was revealed how much older she was than him he couldn't help but notice the small things that confirmed it. They were small things; a line or two on her still beautiful face, the few grey hairs that were starting to sprout throughout her otherwise long, chestnut mane... She was still very healthy, that much he could tell by the outline of her figure through her gown. Every curve on her would fit into his hands just perfectly... The sound of her footsteps coming back towards the room broke him out of his revere. He did his best to cover up his newly engorged manhood before she could see it. He was fortunate to have both his hands free for they were both needed. Samantha came back with her arms full with a multicolored quilt. She unfolded it and draped it over his torso and legs to keep him warm and return to him a little modesty since he seemed to be so shy. She raised a finger, wordlessly telling him that she'd be right back, then left the bedroom again. She returned shortly with a tray of food in one hand and a book in the other. When the tray was offered to him, Cagan was pleased to find a bowl with a generous helping of stew along with some bread and water. Samantha watched him eat until she was repeatedly assured by him that it was the best meal he'd ever had. Glad that he was comfortable she was content to sit on the edge of the bed, continuing her book where she left off. “What are you reading?”, he inquired in between spoonfuls of food. “One of my older books, a favorite of mine actually. 'A Call To His Arms'. Its about a forbidden romance between a knight and a runaway farm girl. Its pretty good. Have you ever read this one? I don't know what kind of books you like.” Samantha didn't take him for the kind to read tawdry love stories. “I've never read it. I read a lot of war stories. Tales of valor and adventure. Those kinds of things. Your book doesn't sound so bad though. Read some too me?”, he asked while scraping out the last of the stew from the bowl and stuffing a too-large bite of bread into his mouth. “Oh, I don't know if you'd like it... and the beginning isn't all that exciting. It doesn't really pick up until the middle of the book when the knight has to leave to go to war...”, she explained and shrugged dismissively. “Its alright. Reading helps me get to sleep. Just read to me where you're at now. Its okay if its in the middle of the story.”, he assured. “Oh... uh... Alright. If you're sure...” Samantha's eyes scanned the book until she found the paragraph where she left off. “Anathor embraced his lover Sia, as if he had not seen her in years, though in reality it has only been a day since he promised he would visit her again underneath the tree where they first met. Their passion blazed like a wild fire as they undressed each other. His fingers fumbled, pulling and grasping at whatever clothing could be ripped away from her body until she was naked before him.” Samantha felt a blush creep to her cheeks as she quickly realized she was approaching one of the many scenes that the book was so popular for. She considered stopping and picking another book, but instead resolved to continue. It was just a book. Cagan was leaning in, his attention on her. She shouldn't just stop... “Sia stood as a goddess before him and kissed him again, but she strayed down his body. There was something she wanted. His belt was undone and the sword as his side pulled his trousers down to reveal the nobleman's other sword, hot and needy for a sheath in which it could plunge itself. Sia lowered herself to her knees and parted her lips to...” The cottage woman closed the book and set it down on the bed before getting up. “Its getting pretty late and I think I'm going to go to bed. I'll have some chores to do if the rain stops falling by the morning so I should get some sleep. You should too. Try not to move that leg too much. If you need anything just let me know. Good night, Cagan.” The words practically tumbled out of the woman's mouth and she had retreated from the room before Cagan could even say “good night” back to her. It was probably for the best. He didn't know how much longer he could hide his arousal with the woman sitting so close to him. He tried to ignore the erection that tented underneath the blanket, hoping that he had positioned himself enough that she didn't see it. ********************************************************************** Samantha watched the leaves blow in the wind underneath the tree by the lake. She was waiting for her husband to arrive. She wasn't sure when he'd get there, but she'd wait for however long it would take. Suddenly, an armored man was chasing her. She didn't know why but she ran, and no matter how fast she moved her legs the man in the armor closed the distance. Next thing she knew she was on the ground and looking up at a cloudy gray sky through the leaves of the tree she was waiting under. The man who was chasing her was suddenly on top of her. She was naked and the sensation of something slipping between her legs made her body tingle with the shock of climax. The armored man lifted the visor of his helmet and Cagan stared back at her. He leaned into kiss her and she parted her lips to kiss him back. A clap of thunder woke Samantha up from her dream. The room was dark and the patter of rain could be heard as water droplets streamed onto the roof and windows of the cottage. She was in her bed. It was just a dream. She shifted in her bed and felt a wet spot underneath her thighs. She checked her blanket, thinking that rain might have been dripping through the roof of her bedroom. The distant scene of a half-remembered dream played through her memory and she realized that the wet spot had been made by her. Somewhat embarrassed, she quickly changed the sheets on her bed and toweled herself off with a damp cloth before changing into another night gown. On a whim, she made her way to the room next to her's where the orc was put up for the night. Did she make any noise? Did he hear her? She wasn't sure what she'd do if he heard her. She'd be mortified. She pressed her ear to the door of his room but heard nothing. He was probably asleep and that suited her just fine. Samantha found it easy enough to go back to sleep. The sky was still dark and she felt like she could lay down for a few more hours anyway. Judging by the sounds of the rain she wasn't going to get much done outside today anyway. *********************************************************************** By the time Samantha woke up again it was day time. As expected the sky was still gray and the rain was still falling. Once again she found herself thankful that she had prepared for the weather. There were a few things she'd have to do: make sure her crops didn't wash away last night and make sure the animals in the barn had enough food and water to get through the day. Samantha smiled to herself as she remembered the small bits of the dream she had last night. She was suddenly reminded of how long since it'd been since she'd been with a man. Raising her children and making sure there was plenty of food was her prime concern after her husband died. She never gave any serious consideration to remarrying. She got by just fine with the family her husband left her, and when her children had become adults and moved out she did just fine by herself. Sure, in the years since her husband died she sometimes found herself lonely. And every now and then she got certain...cravings, but they were easily ignored because there was always something more important to do. She still had plenty of chores and it would provide a fine distraction against those cravings that had reared their head last night. The first thing she noticed when she rounded the corner to the living area and kitchen was that Cagan was naked. The next thing she noticed was that he looked incredible naked. His back was to her and she was able to catch a long, deep look at the orc's chiseled rear. It lead upwards to a broad, strong-looking back that was as muscled as it was scarred. She was content to admire him from afar until she noticed he was pilfering her pantry, likely searching for more ingredients to add to his growing tower of a breakfast sandwich. “I was saving that ham.” Samantha leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, Cagan froze for a split second like a child who was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. He then remembered he was stark naked and fumbled for something to cover himself up with. The nearest thing within reach was a towel that had been sitting on the counter. “Still bashful?” She grinned as she approached him. “I'm surprised the girls don't eat you up in your tribe. You've really got nothing to be shy about. Also, I'm taking half of this.” Samantha cut the sandwich-in-progress in half with a kitchen knife and bit into it. Cured ham, cheese, smoked fish, and pickled eggplant was a unique but not terrible combination. “Not really. I don't fit in very much in my tribe. Dad raised me to be a scholar, not a warrior. 'The war is over and soldiers aren't needed anymore.' he'd say. Girls like warriors though, and they want somebody that can hunt. I don't even like to hunt that much.” As he spoke he searched for something that would cover him better than a scrap of cloth. “Well, I think you're adorable for what's its worth.”, she grinned toothily while bending over to grab the kettle out of the smoldering fireplace. Tea would go well with that sandwich. After that she'd restart the dying fire. “I don't want to be adorable...”, Cagan muttered. His gaze immediately went to Samantha's ass. He noticed that she was wearing a different nightgown than the one she wore last night. Not that he cared about what she wore. All he could concentrate on was how much he wanted to see what was under it. Realizing that he was growing aroused, he scanned the room for his pants before realizing they were still damaged and covered in old blood. “There is nothing wrong with being adorable. My husband was adorable.” She poured a cupful out of the kettle and replaced it on the rack near the edge of the fireplace before taking her breakfast to the kitchen table. “You look a little tense. Are you okay? How's your leg? I should check your bandages.” “No! I mean... Its okay. We can do it later if you think we have to. It feels fine though.” “If you say so. I'm just concerned is all. It was a pretty nasty gash. If you're up and moving already you must be pretty hearty.” She took another bite of her breakfast and washed it down with a sip of tea. “Where did you learn to fight like that anyway?”, the orc asked. Talking seemed to help keep his mind from wandering to lewd thoughts about her. “After my husband died, I realized that I was the only one that could protect my children and my home. I taught myself how to use his sword by studying techniques in books and practicing in the fields during the evening. Figured if anybody ever barged in here trying to hurt me or my family they'd have another thing coming...” “I... I wasn't really going do that... You believe me, right?”, Cagan asked, somewhat sullenly. Samantha took another bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “I don't think you'd have done it. You probably could have beat me if you really wanted to. Your scars all over your chest and back, they tell me that you're not a stranger to violence. I'm not saying that you are violent. But you know how to fight. Never heard of an orc who couldn't fight. Not to mention, you are twice my size and a fraction of my age.” “How old are you really?”, the orc probed. “How old do you think I am?”, she countered. “I don't have to answer that...”, he retorted. “Well then neither to I.” Samantha smiled and finished off her breakfast. “I think you're beautiful...”, Cagan blurted out. “You're pretty handsome yourself.” she answered back. Why did I say that out loud, they both thought to themselves in unison. *********************************************************************** Samantha spent the rest of the day lounging inside, curled up in her chair next to the crackling fire, reading her book, and listening to sounds of rain and thunder. Thanks to Cagan she didn't have to lift a finger all day. After donning a makeshift toga made out of a bedsheet he performed all the chores that needed to be done. He topped off the water and food troughs for the animals in the barn, drew fresh water from the well since his care had taken a good portion of her prepared reserves, and even made lunch for the both of them. It was another sandwich that was big enough to split between them but it was still nice of him to make it for her. She told him repeatedly that he didn't have to do all that for her, but he was insistent. He claimed he felt bad about breaking into her home and scaring her, and that she would never have hurt him if he hadn't been a acting like a some sort of psychotic bandit. He wasn't wrong, which was why she decided to let him help her. After lunch Samantha made Cagan go back to his bed so she could check his stitches and change his bandages. While she unraveled the strips of cloth from his thigh she had Cagan read to her. He obliged happily, picking up from a page near the end where she was reading earlier in the day. “Three moons passed after Anathor won the Battle of Grendew and lead his kingdom to victory against the dark forces of Queen Villisi. He was a hero and the good king wished to reward him for his valor and bravery. Anathor asked not for riches nor land. He had prestige and fame so there was no point in asking that of his king. He knelt before his king. He asked the man on the throne if he, a nobleman, could be permitted to marry one without noble birth. The king shook his head, saddened that he could not give into that request for Anathor. The law could not be changed for one man, hero or not...” “That makes no sense. A king should be able to do what he wants!”, Cagan frowned and rested the book in his lap, visibly agitated at the pages. Samantha chuckled, amused at the orc's upset demeanor. “Don't worry. Sia finds a loophole in the law in the end so they can be together.” She applied a fresh poultice to his leg and wrapped his wound up again with new bandages. “Also, your leg is looking just fine. You are healing nicely, but I'd still give it a few more days until you try to exert yourself. No attacks on old ladies or heavy labor around her cottage. “Yes, ma'am.”, he said mockingly, with a playful grin on his face. “I'm making stew again for dinner. Keep up that tone and see if I share it!”, she taunted over her shoulder as she sauntered out of the room. Cagan watched her leave with little else to say. He was transfixed with the way her butt looked as she strutted off. She had eschewed her typical nightgown for a simple pair of linen pants and a tunic but he found her outfit just as eye-catching as her nightwear. She likely could have been dressed in a burlap sack and he still would have found himself unable to look away. By the time the sun was slipping past the hills, the cottage was filled with the savory smells of cooked meat and boiled vegetables. Samantha and Cagan shared their meal in his room in amiable silence as they listened to the rainfall outside. After they were both finished the cottage woman was about to gather up the dishes to be cleaned when the orc grabbed her wrist. He didn't say anything at first and only glanced at the floor. “There is something that I want to do.”, the orc said, finally bringing himself to look her in the eyes. “What is it? Do you need someth-” Samantha's words were cut off when the orc pulled her down towards him and pressed a sudden kiss against her lips. Feelings that she thought she had forgotten suddenly ignited within her. Sensations she hadn't experienced since the last time her husband had kissed her before marching off to battle rushed through her. Cagan stole his kiss out of a fear that he would never get it if he has asked. Forgiveness was gained easier than permission. He expected her to pull away, maybe hit him, or even kick him out. It would have been worth it for the chance. He would have left happily knowing that he tried. He did not expect, however, that the woman of the cottage would kiss him back. The kiss was only broken when they both needed to breathe. The two grinned like fools, basking in the moment while their chests heaved, pumping air back into their lungs. Samantha was the first to break the silence. “I'm old enough to be your mother...”, she replied, blushing furiously from throat to cheek. “I don't care.”, he answered back before pulling her for another kiss. The second kiss grew passionate as they each found growing comfort in the act. Samantha parted her lips to allow the man underneath her to kiss her deeper. He playfully nipped her lower lip before slipping his tongue past them. She matched him as best as she could. It'd been so long since she'd done anything like this. She wasn't sure if still remembered how but the man's deep growls lead her to believe she was doing something right. Cagan broke away again suddenly. Samantha at first thought that she had done something that he disliked but the thought was quickly dismissed as the orc pulled her further into the bed with him. She didn't fight him, letting him pull her down to straddle his hips. She could feel his manhood brush against her thigh even as it poked her through the blanket that covered him. He set upon her again, but instead of going for her lips he tilted his head and pressed his mouth against her throat. Soft kisses brushed just underneath her chin then trailed down to her collar. He used his fingers to pull the fabric of her tunic aside so he could continue down each shoulder. The orc trailed his kisses back up the side of her neck before stopping at her earlobe. He whispered softly to her, voice low and filled with need. “I want to keep going. Is that okay?” Samantha nodded wordlessly, relishing in the feel of his warm breath breezing over her neck and ear. Thick fingers came to rest at her sides and began tugging at her tunic. With a bit of mutual assistance it was lifted up and over her head before being discarded at the edge of the bed. Cagan paused to drink in the sight of the older woman without her shirt. Her body, which was only left to imagination until now, was just as lovely as he had thought it to be. Despite the woman claiming repeatedly that she was old, her body had barely lost the firmness of a maiden's. Strong shoulders lead down to breasts that, while generous in size, had not much given into gravity. Samantha began to cover herself with her arm but Cagan gently pulled it away so he could see her in full. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Its nothing I've never seen before. But you are definitely the most beautiful...” Feeling bold, the orc wrapped an arm around Samantha's waist and rolled the both of them over so he was on top. She squealed in surprise but let him do it. She surprised herself at how comfortable she felt with him. It seemed like a long time ago that the same man had kicked in her door and she fought for what she thought was her life. Cagan kissed her again but only for a brief moment before traveling downwards once again. His hands found her breasts and he began to knead them gently in his palms. Her body responded all too willingly to the forgotten feeling of a man's touch; her nipples hardened between his fingers and he was more than happy to show them more attention. The right one was lavished with kisses. Then the left. He flicked his tongue playfully across the hardened nub before taking it into his mouth and sucking it. He held it between his lips, flicking it with his tongue and sucking harder and harder until the woman underneath him finally whimpered out in pleasure. A satisfied smile crossed his face before he swept back to the right to do the same thing all over again. Thunder boomed in the sky above them as she squirmed underneath his weight. The orc persisted, lavishing her body in kisses, licks, and even gentle bites until her whimpers grew into pleasured cries. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt her hands bury themselves in his thick mane, not to pull him away, but to hold him against her as her back arched and her legs lifted to wrap around his ass. He lips didn't let go until her body lowered itself back onto the sheets amidst her gasping breath. “Did you just...?”, Cagan asked the flushed woman underneath him. She could only nod in the affirmative, a little embarrassed but unable to stop smiling. “Do you want to stop? I mean, I want to keep going, but if you don-”, he was beginning to ramble nervously when she began squirming underneath him. At first he thought she was trying to get out from underneath him, but when he quickly pushed himself up he found that she was only trying to get out of the pants she still had on. Pants that were beginning to soak through between the legs just below the drawstring. “Don't stop. Its been too long! Please don't stop...”, she whispered. Cagan breathed a sigh of relief and helped her to loosen the leather cord that held her trousers around her hips. He didn't take them off immediately though, much to Samantha's immediate frustration. She was about to tug the fabric down her legs herself when the orc pulled her hands away. When she went for her clothing again he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head playfully. The woman parted her lips to ask him what he was doing but he gently shushed her. “Shhh... just relax. Let me do this.”, he cajoled as he slowly slipped his hand down the front of her pants. He rubbed the flat of his palm between her legs, feeling how wet and warm she was. Arousal left her slicked and it was easy to part her nether lips and probe within her with one of his fingers. He curled the digit and began to stroke it along her inner walls while using his thumb to stimulate the tiny pearl that he found could make her writhe underneath him. It didn't take much effort to bring her to her edge once more. He could fell her muscles contract and squeezes around his finger. Eager to watch her climax once more, Cagan slipped in a second finger and redoubled his efforts until her spine curled and her pants bled through with her fluids. Cagan removed his hand from her pants and wiped his hand on one of the legs before ripping the garment and her underwear down her legs and off her body. Still holding her wrists in one hand he paused to admire Samantha's body. As her breasts swayed with each breath and her legs still twitched in pleasure he considered her the most beautiful person in the world. He would have continued pleasuring her until she begged him to stop but he too ached for sweet release. His manhood was almost painfully erect and he could not bear to wait any longer. As carefully as he could, he lined the head of his cock up with her opening and he pushed forward until the head of his cock reached the end of her. Samantha gasped at the sudden penetration. She had an idea of how large he was because she had seen him naked on multiple occasions but that was when he was mostly unaroused. She found his real size was larger than she had imagined. He barely managed to slide himself into her while fully erect. Any larger, she mused, and he might have risked hurting her. As it was she merely felt more full than she ever thought possible. So tight was his fit that she swore she could feel the thrum of his pulse. “Are you alright, Samantha? I'm not hurting you, am I?”, he asked a look of concern crossing his face as he heard the noise she made. “No, its fine. Really. Just go slow. Its been a while...”, she assured him while curling her legs around his back to show that she was sincere. Cagan nodded, restraining himself even though his own body demanded that he ravage her. He held himself still within her, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. He let go of her wrists and she immediately held them against the sides of his face while she kissed him back. The orc moved slowly, dragging himself out of her inch by inch until he almost unsheathed from her completely. He then pushed back inside just as slowly, relishing in the erotic sensation of her body gripping him like a fist. Samantha moaned softly into their kiss as a ripple of pleasure coursed through her spine. Her toes curled as the head of him buried within her. Back and forth... back and forth... like a languid tide rolling in and out. The thunder outside boomed loudly enough to make the cottage tremble but the steady creaking of the bed, the rhythmic drumming of the headboard against the wall, the passionate cries and bestial grunts was the only sound that mattered to those within the small home. The minutes that passed seemed like hours for the both of them, so lost they were in the bliss they shared. Finally, Cagan found himself approaching his limit. “Samantha... almost there...”, he warned. She didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. She clenched her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, keeping him inside her, wordlessly urging him on. The orc increased his pace, giving into his need in the final moments. He thrust forward with renewed vigor, making the bed groan in complaint and the headboard leave scuff marks on the wall. Samantha felt his manhood pummel against her womb like a battering ram, making her wrench her fingers down his broad back, leaving marks from her nails. It only spurred him on and moments later he roared as he reached climax. Samantha felt the suddenly torrent of warm fill her like a growing fire. The man on top of her thrust sharply with each spurt of his seed. Every thrust forward was punctuated with an audible gushing sound as she overflowed and puddled onto the sheets. Samantha's limbs unclenched from her lover and dropped tiredly to her sides. Cagan rode the tail end of his orgasm, kissing the older woman underneath him gently and brushing away the hair that pasted itself to her brow with sweat. She tilted her head to nuzzle into his palm, practically purring. “Can we do it again?”, she asked, a smile on her lips and a glint in her eye. Cagan deadpanned, surprised. “I think so... I might need about ten minutes.” Samantha sat up, perched on her elbows and gave the man a brief case. “Sit on the edge of the bed. I'll have you ready again in five...”, she whispered into his ear. *********************************************************************** Samantha strolled out of the cottage with a fresh pitcher of cold water. She passed the vegetable garden which was looking excellent this year. Careful tending and plenty of rain saw to that. The barn had been repainted. She'd been meaning to do that forever, but never gotten around to it. She pulled the door open and walked in to find Cagan tossing some new hay into the animal stalls. “Thirsty, stranger?”, she called out to him. He smiled and stabbed his pitchfork into the pile of hay before greeting Samantha with a kiss on her cheek. “You know it.” He took the pitcher and upturned it over his mouth, guzzling it greedily, then drizzled the last over his head to finish off the remains of the container. “Its looking good in here! Almost finished?”, the woman asked as he she watched him shower himself in water. “Almost!”, he replied. “The troughs are filled and I fertilized the garden. I also fixed that fence post in the south as well.” “I should have hired a farmhand years ago. Glad you decided to stay. Go ahead and finish up in here and get cleaned up. Dinner is just about ready. You like stew, right?”, she inquired with a smile. “Wouldn't miss it for the world, Sam! I have something to talk to you about later anyway...” “You're not leaving are you? You're the best helper I have! Is this about a raise?”, she raised an eyebrow, concern crossing her features. “I'm the only helper you have! And no, I'm not leaving nor do I need a raise. We can talk over dinner. I'll be right behind you in a few!” Samantha stood on her toes to give the orc a peck on his cheek before taking the pitcher from him and leaving the barn. Cagan watched her go, though it was more accurate to say he was oogling her butt as she left. Once he was sure she was out of sight he pulled a tiny box out of his pocket and opened it to glance at the ring inside. He'd been saving his wages since she took him on as a farmhand a few months ago. He wasn't sure how she'd respond to the question he was going to ask her, but she rewarded him once for his boldness. He threw hay into the last stall and went into the fields to herd the livestock inside. It looked like it was going to rain.