Zaya loved to eat. Loved, loved, loved it. Orcs like her would and could eat anything, but she loved meat in particular. Rich, fatty, thick, tender, savory, juicy... it was so amazing. She went out of her way to try every kind she could: pork, chicken, beef, lizard, snake, even sand-slider - although orcs rode sand-sliders more than they ate them. 

For a month now, the orc had been on her own. Her village had kicked her out for picking fights, and so she had taken up the life of a nomad. She quickly learned that nomads had very few food options.

If she wanted meat, it would either be vulture - if death had a flavor, it would be vulture - or lizard, which was much better than vulture but she needed to gather about twenty to satisfy her appetite. Since they were speedy, slippery little things, that was easier said than done. Zaya could always butcher her sand-slider, but Scales was too useful as a form of transport. So, it had been cactus fruit and desert weed salad every night.

Zaya hated salad. Hated, hated, hated it.

But tonight, she wouldn't have to eat salad. No, the orc was about to have a good meal for once.

Last night, Zaya had stumbled across a whole village of pink-skins. Now, going near the pink-skins had long been banned by the Big Mother, but she figured that nomads didn't need to follow the rules.

Earlier, she'd snuck into the village and stayed stealthy as she could, trying to pick out which pink-skin she'd taste. The women were all either too scrawny or too old, so they were off the list. Most of the men were too old as well. Zaya had finally settled on a young man with a nice, strong body: a blond-headed youth who went around fixing the broken structures in the town. Thankfully he had stayed out late, so she was able to knock him out and drag him back to camp with relative ease.

Her camp was small and non-permanent, just a single tent in a shady little cleft between two high dunes. Earlier, before heading off to the human village, she'd gathered together enough desert brush to build a fire, which she'd left in a pile. Scales was sleeping, hitched up to a sturdy cactus with a rope.

Zaya dumped the human face-down onto the sand, then knelt at his side. She wore nothing more than a wrap of cloth around her heavy breasts and a loincloth, which she kept her dagger tucked into. Pulling it out, she pressed it into the back of his neck - though not hard enough to break the skin.

Hmm... how did one butcher a pink-skin?

Zaya tried to judge his height - he looked about a head shorter than her. Setting her knife aside, she placed her hands on his back, which was still covered by his roughspun long-sleeved shirt. Hm. Didn't feel too different from an orc back there, in terms of where the bones were. She moved her hands down to his butt, which was full and round - she imagined it wouldn't taste too bad, and squeezing it brought a strange tingle between her legs.

She rolled him over, brushing the sand off his face to get a better look at it. He had very soft features, which couldn't be further from how a male orc looked, but she found him oddly handsome. Grabbing his collar, she ripped his shirt down the middle and pulled it off his body. He was thin but muscular, lithe and smooth - once again, the opposite of an orc. Real orc men had big muscles, fat stomachs, and lots of coarse hair. Still, Zaya couldn't help but like what she saw...

She slapped herself mentally. What was she thinking about? She hadn't seen a man in a while, that must've been why her brain was going to such... odd places. Many months ago the elves had attacked the coast and the Big Mother had ordered that every able-bodied male was to strike back, so all of the men had left her town. That must've been it. She didn't find this scrawny little pink-skin handsome, no, it was just her brain being weird!

Even as she tried to push her strange feelings to the back, her strong green hands still roamed over the young man's body. Without her even noticing, a line of drool started running from the corner of her plump lips.

Well, if she was going to butcher this pink-skin, she'd need to take all his clothes off, right? That was perfectly reasonable! Couldn't have the fabric getting in the way, now, could she? His shirt was already off, so his pants would need to go!

Her fingers moved down south, sinking below the waistbands of his pants and underwear and hooking around them both. Biting her lip, she tugged them down - and she couldn't believe her eyes.

This... this little pink-skin had a bigger cock than any orc she'd ever seen! Much bigger!

Zaya had never been married, but she had been with a man or two, before they all left of course. They didn't even compare to this tiny pink-skin - even flaccid, his dick was twice the size of theirs at full mast. It was almost unbelievable... orcs were bigger and stronger, weren't they? This should've been the other way around.

Without thinking, she had slipped her hand onto it. Just her skin brushing against his dick was enough to make it stir. She wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft and began to pump lightly, curious to see just how big it could get. It got harder and harder as her hand went up and down, growing larger as well - soon enough, it was three times as large as an orc's! Her other hand crept down her own body. Just looking at the pink-skin had made her wet... she rubbed herself, feeling lines of moisture streaking down the inside of her thighs.

Suddenly, the pink-skin woke up, and Zaya froze. He shifted in place, eyes fluttering open, then groggily propped himself up on his arms and squinted around.

"Wh... what..." he finally looked down, seeing the strong green hand wrapped around his naked dick. His eyes shot open wide, and he began to panic. "What's going on!?"

In a momentary burst of distress, Zaya brought her fist down on his head, knocking him out again.