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Prince of the Mines [Misanthropiclove+Kikideru]

kikideru

Meteorite
Joined
Jul 30, 2009
Iman nearly purred as the orc attended to his body's desires. He laid back against the pillows, threading his fingers into the black hair of the other, fascinated by the colour, so different from what he would usually see on elves. He raised his hips, thrusting his arousal into Arigol's mouth with a drawn out moan, his charcoal black skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

He grew hot simply at the sight of his sex being swallowed by the orc, his eyes hooding with pleasure, lavender orbs glowing through the silver lashes. He tilted his head back, spreading his legs wider to allow Arigol more room when the other moved his attentions lower. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the other man wanted and Iman didn't mind this, he figured he would just have the orc on his own terms the next time around. And he would make sure there is a next time.

He groaned when Arigol inserted a finger into him after doing some incredible things to him with his tongue. He more than ready, but wasn't about to tell the other to hurry up. He rather liked this change of pace from the usual quick fuck he had, always worrying about enemies catching up to them, only to find his men and him in compromising positions.

The drow shivered as he dug his fingers into Arigol's shoulders and slowly drag them down the orc's chest. He stopped at the others abdomen, his touch turning gentle as he teased and carressed the skin he found there, taking a hold of the orc's erection. "Well, this seems to be nice and ready... We wouldn't want it to go to waste...." He murmured, leaning up on his arm to brush his cheek against Arigol's as he whispered in a language that only he understood. It was a dark, sensual language that slid across the other's ear like the snake from the garden of Eden.
-
Arigol shivered slightly and moaned into Iman's ear. "That is rather cruel. You're just too good to be true." The words made him more aroused than he thought would be possible. The hand on his arousal made it even worse. Yet he would not have traded anything for this experience right now. He placed his hands upon the sides of Iman and lifted him up, pressing himself against the drow until he felt the man's muscles give. His throat let out a hiss as he slowly let Iman sink into his lap, his arousal enveloped by the drow prince. He found it rather odd that Iman had given in to being penetrated so easily, which meant he probably wanted something in return. Or, at least a chance to get his turn at him. The orc found himself completely unbothered by that idea, it just drove him to sit the drow down faster upon his being.

"There we are, prince." He held the drow close as he shivered at the touch of the dark male. He finally got up the energy to thrust into his partner, enjoying the feel of him. Arigol clenched his teeth, showing them off as he let out a small hiss at the feel of Iman. Yes, he would definitely learn a lot from this man. He would have to follow him around everywhere, just in case. From a strictly scholarly point of view, of course.

He soon laid Iman down on the bed and took his position over him, his eyes staring into those lovely lavender orbs. He moved his hand to gently caress the drow's manhood, his fingers trailing up and down as he timed them to match his thrusting. He soon gave up just rubbing on it and gripped it solidly, his body clenching at the feeling. He knew it was more the drow's place to clench with such a feeling, but there was just something about being with another man after so long, and his first drow man, that made this entire escapade even better.

"I could write a dissertation about this, you know. You drow are always sounique in bed." He didn't dignify that with the clumsy laughter it deserved, his face moving lower to steal a kiss from Iman as he kept up his solid and rhythmic pace with the drow. He let his tongue trail down the neck of the drow, his body curling until he was at chest level. His tongue darted across the nipples of the other male and he bit down on one, the taste of the prince making Arigol grunt a little. His own pants and moans had been held back for the most part, as he had wanted to take in the sight of Iman and listen to his own noises, yet he found that he could no longer just be silent and allowed his vocalizations of pleasure meet and match the drow below him in intensity.

-

Iman grunted as he was lifted up and sat upon the orc's thick erection, his passage clenching as it was being spread, before the drow relaxed and sank down, until the other's cock was buried in him to the hilt. He shivered, letting out a soft moan as he wrapped his arms around Arigol's neck, licking his lips at the feeling of having their bodies join, his muscles clenching and relaxing around the hot length inside him as his thighs tightened against the orc's hips. He kissed whatever skin he found, biting and licking across Arigol's earlobe when the orc started to thrust into him, breathy groans and heavy moans escaping him as he let his head fall back.

"Yessss....." He hissed. Whether it was in pleasure or in answer to what Arigol was saying, was only known by the drow as he dug his fingers into the orc's back.

He opened his eyes a sliver when he was laid down, his arms loosening their grip around the orc's shoulders and sliding down to hold onto his arms. Iman honestly didn't care what position he was in, as long as it was a long, satisfying bout of sex, which so far this was turning out to be just the way he liked it. He chuckled softly as the other man took a kiss from him, before kissing down to his chest, drawing out a moan from him when his nipples were teased.

"Dissertation...? I'm flattered...." He purred, as he clenched his entrance around Arigol's length, when his own was stroked, a jumble of moans and dark, passionate words leaving him as he buried his fingers in the orc's hair once again. His own silver locks spread out beneath him like a spiderweb, as he thoroughly enjoyed the pleasures the orc bestowed upon him. He arched into the kisses, his thighs trembling as a drop of precum nestled at the tip of his cock from the attention.

-

Arigol found the reactions of the drow to be completely and utterly compelling. He just had to have more. He let his thumb trail up to the tip of the princes penis, rubbing the pre-coital fluid around as he gave a smile. "You are truly enjoying this. I am glad, I thought you might have just been stroking my ego." He pulled out to the tip and thrust his way back in, his eyes closing at the intimate sensations he was getting from the drow. He found Iman rather skilled for a man of his station in this activity. He wondered if the prince always was the receiver, because that would ruin his fun later on.

The orc grabbed Iman's face with one hand and brought him up to kiss as he started giving a harder tempo to the dark elf. He was really getting into the bout of intercourse they were in the middle of, finding Iman to be much more skilled than many of the drow women he had slept with. Perhaps being women they didn't have to be as skilled or accomplished. They took what they wanted and that was that. Iman? No, he was very nice. Very lust-worthy.

Arigol gasped at the increasing tightness of the drow prince and lifted him back up into a sitting position, the added weight coming down on his erection driving him ever onward. It took a bit less than a minute after they changed positions for the orc to reach his climax, filling the elf with his seed as he moaned out his name from deep within his throat. The drow had proved to be an unknown in bed, as Arigol had figured this would have lasted longer. Not that it had been short by any means; their flirtations alone had lasted a good while as they searched one anothers bodies.

The orc scholar pressed his lips hungrily to Iman's, his tongue darting into the mouth of his partner to taste him once more. He felt himself slip out of the elf as he lifted the dark man up and off of his erection, the member starting to waver in its attention. Yes, Iman would make a very good person to study. What better way to end hours of stories from this elf than intertwined in his arms after a long bout of passionate love making? Arigol had good eyes for picking out subjects, and owed Iman's parents a debt of gratitude. "I hope I was sufficient for you."

-

The drow prince panted softly as he held onto the orc, gasping soundlessly each time the other's thick member filled him up. He let out a pleasure-filled moan as he was made to sit up, driving the scholar's cock deeper inside him. His fingers dug into the other's back, managing to be conscious of the sharp nails adorning his fingers, as he pressed back down onto the intruding member, a moan stuck in his throat when the orc reached his climax. Iman's pale purple eyes slowly opened as he rode out the other's release, his own peek spurred by Arigol's seed shooting up inside him.

Iman grunted when Arigol slipped out of him, his eyes hooded lazily as he threaded his fingers through the other's hair and pulled him back down onto the bed, on top of him. "Yes, you were very sufficient..." He smiled, rolling them over so that he was the one looking down at the orc now. "And I hope that the next time, I am just as sufficient for you... For tonight, I am weary from my travels." He said, stretching out like a lazy cat, his body, black as coal, brushed against the other's sinuously, spider-silk hair a complete mess atop the drow's head.

"Also, as much as I would like to keep you here beside me, I must return to my comrades and go back to the barracks. I trust, I will see more of you around." He continued to speak, after he got off Arigol and even as he was in the process of putting his clothing back on. He meant no disrespect by that, but some actions had to be taken, to get the results one was after. And he preferred to not anger the queen just yet.

He turned back to Arigol one last time and bowed before him shortly, before walking out of the room.

-

Arigol purred as he imaged the drow prince topping him. Yes, he was going to have to meet up with this man again. He sighed and stood up, walking over to the door to lock it before settling back down and heading to bed. He awoke the next day and got dressed, heading out into the city to collect information and get breakfast. He sat and read over his notes that he got from Iman and felt his body stir thinking of the drow. There was nothing like a strong person filled with information to get the orc really going. He slid the notes into his special holding area and stood up, looking at his usual streetcorner to watch performers. He could skip that today.

He went off to find this prince and soldier, walking about and checking with people. He found out the barracks he was staying in and went to the castle, happy he had caught the eye of a rather obnoxious, but useful, princess. He easily coaxed his way onto the grounds, but had to spend a few hours chatting with the princess and making her feel good about herself and even trading gossip with her a bit. She was obnoxious, vapid, but completely deadly. She would make it to the upper rungs of the ladder before being taken out by someone with enough brains to know what they were doing and had access to the same resources she did.

He thanked her and headed off for the barracks, his eyes gleaming when he saw the plethora of drow males. Yes, he had found the right ones. He bowed lightly before one male, knowing that most drow males acting completely and utterly confused when shown respect, and thus gave him the upper hand. "Excuse me, I am looking for your commander? Iman I believe his name is? That barrack? Thank you."

The orc walked with practiced steps towards where he had been told to go, moving past the drow until he came upon the training area. He stopped and looked around, trying to see if he could catch the drow prince working out or even doing something. If he was not out he could try and head for his room, but he didn't want to seem that pushy. "Excuse me, do you know where Iman is?"

-

The next day, Iman had woke up very early, as he usually did, always up before the break of dawn. He didn't even care to brush his hair out, or take care of the normal, necessary hygiene procedures, as that would be pointless before training. He dressed in simple, leather pants with armoured plates over his thighs and a linen shirt with armoured shoulder pieces and a plate to cover his stomach. He went into one of the other rooms his troops occupied and went over to the beds of his generals, kicking the side of their beds to wake them up, not caring if the others in the room woke up as well or not. They should have been already out in the field anyways.

"Wake up, we're doing the Telest routine today." He said and left. No one dared to argue with him, knowing better than to go against the man who could easily kill them if they so much as crossed the line with their pinky toe.

Iman was in the process of stretching when the first general to spar with him arrived, the rest, dressed and ready, settling around the side-lines.

"Iman... You're crazy." The man said and the prince smirked, in a better mood now that he had gotten outside. Only the smartest man in his troops and an old time friend would know how much he hated being cooped up inside.

"Of course, Kadim. Shall we start?" He asked, drawing out his sword, the heavy thing dragging over the ground when Iman had it pointing straight down, his muscles tensed in anticipation as Kadim mimicked his action and they poised themselves across from each other. Both were tense, attention rapt as they circled each other, looking for an opening.

The troops sat around them in a large circle, giving the two a lot of space. They needed the room and none of the man from the troops felt like dying at the hands of the berserkers. Even the troops from the city came over to watch, as did a few women. Though Iman had most of the attention, being as tall as he was, and having the eyes of an animal that was stalking it's prey.
 
Arigol eventually found his way to the place where the drow men were sparring for the day. He was just in time to watch Iman himself start his swordplay. The orc pulled out a small pad of paper and began to write, his special insignia from the drow priestess he had entertained keeping him from being called out for being in a place he was not supposed to be. He enjoyed the way the drow prince played with his members, his eyes on the dark skinned man as he scribbled down orcish runes in a type of shorthand.

After a small amount of time watching this man dance a beautiful waltz of the blades he picked up a spider and tossed it in the ring. The white colored spider was about six inches long and had a few red spots covering its body. The coloration, in accordance to drow taboo and social mores, meant that Arigol was asking for a sparring match with the commander of the drow militia. He moved forward as a few of the dark elves, more than a few looking rather stunned, got out of his way.

He bowed as he moved forward, his hand on the scabbard of his weapon. The dark skinned and scarred orc made his way to the ring and drew his scimitar, his tongue rolling across both sides of the blade. Again, this was drow politeness used to show that he wasn't using a poisoned weapon. Of course, he could have just imbibed an antidote prior, but the polite act would not be lost on the drow, a few who looked rather incredulous that their culture was known by any such outsider.

"Greetings, prince. I am glad to have tracked you down. Your way with the sword is very impressive. I do hope I don't embarrass myself with this little match. I doubt I am your equal, nor anywhere close to your superior, but I do believe I can be rather entertaining." His teeth flashed with the final words, a semi-feral grin. This was what Arigol really did love. He may not act like a typical orc, but the very thought of steel upon steel was a rush for one such as him. He had grown up with it all his life, be it slicing into the flesh of an enemy, being pounded out by a hammer, or just the fine ring of a perfect blade being drawn it was in his blood.

"To what shall this match be to? First blood, disarmament, or something of your own choosing, M'lord?" That title drew a few soft murmurs from the crowd and more than one cross looking woman. For any male drow to be referred to as anything but an inferior or submissive in drow culture was rather unheard of. Arigol didn't seem to mind at all though, and even enjoyed the looks given to him for it.
 
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