“And so, in the names of the trees of our eternal forest, I hereby bless this marriage. May your fruits be many, and may your union be a symbol that lasts ten thousand generations.”
There was applause- polite, but clearly strained. Dumag’s eyes glanced briefly across the onlooking elves, smirking slightly at their poorly-masked expressions of disdain. Before him stood Yalanue in her dazzling white robe and silver jewelry, shining more brilliantly than the sun as she looked up at him with a cheeky smile.
“Ah, and now the wedded will have the marriage validated in the Bride’s family temple. With this, the wars between our kin will have ceased forevermore.” The elder performing the ceremony closed his massive tome and bowed lightly, gesturing to the large white stone building behind him.
The wedding had been performed at midday, according to Elvish custom. Dumag had been coached through the steps of the ritual the night before by Gailin, so he’d managed to not make an ass of himself. Orcs, of course, did not have such frivolous ceremonies. They simply mated and were done with it when they pleased. He’d still made an effort to polish the bits of armor he had brought with him- Elves were after all, notoriously vain.
He and Yala entered the temple, and the doors closed behind them. The room was circular, with a ring of steps in the center leading to a large stone altar in the middle. Dumag glanced to his new wife, still unsure as to what this ‘validation’ meant.
“Come along, dear husband. I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.” Yala strode up the steps confidently, giving him a smile halfway up. “You and I must ensure that this part goes through on our own, else the gods may see fit to destroy us all.”
“You still haven’t actually told me what this ritual is, Yalanue.” Dumag followed her up the steps, arriving at the altar. It was simple- a carved square of granite with artful swirls and designs carved into the sides.
“Putting it simply, you and I must consummate our marriage here.” She began to remove the silver jewelry she’d been adorned with, setting it all aside. “It is how the gods know this to be a true marriage, after all.”
Dumag paused, taken slightly aback. “But you already-”
“Not with my husband. It only counts if you are my husband, and you are, aren’t you?” She tugged her robe open, exposing her soft, creamy skin. “The time has come to give myself over to you fully, dear husband.” She slowly opened the robe, revealing her full breasts before laying on the altar, spreading herself across it.
The warmth rushed to Dumag’s groin as he began to remove his own clothing, casting it aside and standing over his new bride. The bride whom he’d seen whoring herself out with nary a care, the bride whom given him the most powerful orgasm of his life, the bride who would inevitably bear his children. She laid before him, smiling, legs spread and pussy delicately peeking out at him.
He reached out and stroked her mound, feeling the wetness increase around his fingers as he prodded gently in. For as many guards as she’d probably taken, she was still quite tight. Possibly too tight for him?
Yala moaned softly as he rubbed his fingers inside her, whimpering when he removed them. Her wetness coated his fingers, and he licked the familiar sweetness off them before climbing atop the altar as well, beginning to stroke himself to his fullest size.
Her eyes widened as the connection was made in her head. “S-start slow, else you might just kill me.”
“You want this, though.” Dumag ran a finger through her pink folds and shoved it into her mouth. She moaned softly, sucking on her own juices. “You’ve wanted this since you were told you were to wed me. You’re the biggest whore in this kingdom, right? You can hold your own.” He smiled, feeling her tongue greedily trying to wrap itself around his finger.
She quivered as he slowly rubbed the bulging head of his cock against her wet entrance. Her pussy was unbelievably soft, and he found himself almost regretting what he was about to do to it. He pressed in, slowly, feeling her open up around him. She let out a soft moan, which shook her small frame, which in turn caused her to squeeze around his erection. He paused, then pushed in a bit harder. She was barely over the head and she was hanging on by a thread.
He decided to take this matter into his own hands and just thrust himself into her completely, eliciting an arched-back yelp as her inner walls were breached by his manhood. She laid frozen for a moment, before slumping into a quivering, wild-eye mess.
Dumag gave her no time to make a sarcastic remark and began briskly thrusting, pushing her legs back wide to accommodate his mass. Her yelps quickly turned into gasps, which then became moans. Dumag kept one hand holding her legs open, and used the other to reach down and gently rub the red nub of flesh above her entrance, causing her to arch her back once more and give a sharp series of cries.
Yala’s expression ran the gamut from pain to pleasure and back again, she bit her lip as her hands scrabbled wildly for purchase on anything. She settled for squeezing her bouncing breasts, giving her nipples a firm pinch as she moaned. She felt as if she was being cleaved in two on her husband’s cock- this wasn’t anywhere close to the numerous Elven members she’d taken- this was a sensation absolutely beyond compare.
Dumag took his fingers off her clit, changing the rhythm of his thrusts as he slowly pushed her hips up, still slamming into her. He pounded downward, watching as her lower abdomen distorted out around him. The very head of his cock was already kissing against the entrance of her womb, and he could feel her beginning to tighten around him with every movement.
The moment of her climax had her screaming, thrashing beneath him in a torrent of pleasure. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth hung open, and she squeezed around him like a vice.
He kept going.
The pressure may have been building, but Dumag wasn’t finished with his bride just yet. He kept thrusting into her as deeply as he could, sweat coating his brow as he held Yala in her perfect mating press atop the altar. She was still moaning beneath him, drunk on her own orgasm with an expression of perfect bliss. He had a feeling that average Elven cock would never be enough to satisfy her ever again.
Finally, he felt the tightening reaching its breaking point, and went into a frenzied pace, grunting like an animal as he forced himself into her deepest parts, and the mind-breaking power of orgasm took him.
He thrust one, two, three times, each one pumping her fuller until his fluids began to leak out around his cock. Her expression was still frozen in bliss as she stared up into nothingness.
And then he heard the applause above them. The same. Polite. Applause. Dumag’s head shot up to see that there was in fact, a balcony overlooking the altar. The balcony that was currently occupied by the wedding attendees, who were all giving the same polite, if disdainful, looks to the couple.
“The gods have seen this marriage, and they know it to be true. Blessings to all.” The elder waved his hands over them. “May this union bring many happy… children.” The hitch in his voice made his disgust obvious.
Dumag looked back down to Yala, whom he was still inside of. Her abdomen had swollen with cock and jism, granting a small preview of her state-to-be in a mere few months. But her wild grin was one thing that would never fade from this day on.
He smirked. Turns out this Elven bride business was a pretty favorable arrangement after all.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/gb82f4/the_elven_bride_the_orcish_groom_part_3_finale_mf
These are great my dude, well done!