<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c9/63/0e/c9630e0c6068e86f4b1e84b432051bc8.jpg) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=333483.msg15884572#msg15884572)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Leovic 'Leo' Stoneharth<br/><strong>Race and Occupation:</strong>Half-Orc Apprentice Smith | Ametuer Fighter<br/><strong>Location &amp; Time:</strong>Evening | Week One, Day Two | Floor Two, Leo's room.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Puma<br/><strong>Note:</strong>Getting Steamy, Sexual Content likely to follow.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Puma offered a brief glimpse of her past: Telling tales of A lost mentor, of a divergence from her old ways to find something new, and of a sort of moon-guided wanderlust that led her to Ambervale. It was interesting, although just as interesting was the tapestry of wounds long healed on her back. It was hard not to find this woman fascinating, even more so for the stories she<em>didn't</em>tell him. Part of him wanted to start tracing shapes along the imperfections, and ask about the stories behind them. Another part wanted to bring his lips to them, planting kisses and trailing his tongue, just to revel in the sense of closeness.<br/><br/>She slid off of him, and pressed against his side. He briefly felt a sense of relief, only to instantly feel the tension of her thigh pressing and caressing against his cock through the layers of clothing beneath. Part of him considered rebutting her, but another part was fantasising about his own hand trailing up her thigh, sliding underneath her clothing and between her legs and...<br/><br/>His thoughts were brought back to reality as she asked questions of him, and as her fingers repeated his own curiosity from earlier. Whereas he had wanted to explore the piercings, she was curious about his tusks. She would feel them smooth and controlled as the filing had hinted, but still sharp at the point. “<strong>The same reason people cut their hair; sometimes they get in the way.</strong>” It wasn't the most convincing argument, but it was at least rooted in truth. They could be frustrating when you were chewing, and he'd accidentally bit his lip more times than most because of his tusks. “<strong>As for where I came from? I don't...really know. My folks are Dwarves; they adopted me when I was a babe. Never met the man who sired me, or the woman who birthed me. When I was younger it used to keep me up at night, but now I've settled on a simple truth. Born an Orc, raised a Dwarf.</strong>”<br/><br/>Slowly, as her thigh continued to rub and tease, his body grew bolder. His hand moved from her back down to the hem of her trousers. Leather gave way to his thumb hooking at the waistline, and he tugged it slowly down, guiding her trousers off and slowly making moves to strip a layer of her clothing off. Part of him was just trying to make sure there was some balance to their little arrangement. He'd lost a shirt, she should lose a garment too, right? The other part of him just wanted to feel her bare thighs under his palms, and appreciate the curve of her ass.<br/><br/>“<strong>You've a lot of stories on your body.</strong>” He nodded towards the prominent scars on her chest and neck, not moving far enough to pull away from her probing fingers, which he took a moment to kiss. “<strong>Tell me a good one. Tell me a story about your favourite war wound. Dwarves love a good story, and Orcs love a good scar.</strong>” Whether it was alcohol that was making him bold, or just her touch, he wasn't going to stop himself from admiring Puma. She may have padded into his life tonight, but he wasn't going to turn away a good time; especially one keen to share his bed.