Page 39 of Steel & Thunder
We both take off from the well with him in a slight lead. As we exit the park and make our first turn, I edge my way closer. I don’t try to overtake him—not yet at least. I’m fairly confident I know my way back to the house, but just in case, I want to keep my eyes on him. It’s also just common sense that you don’t blow all your energy at the start of a race. Got to save it and then pour it all into the last leg.
We seem to be a pretty even match, or at least we’re both good at pacing ourselves. At one point, I move behind him and start using his large form as a windshield. That only lasts a few minutes though, and when he realizes what I’m doing, he slows down and forces me to go around him. After that, we’re pretty much neck and neck until we make one last turn onto the street I know the house is on.
When I see a familiar looking fence in the distance, I know we’re in the home stretch and I book it, using all the energy I’ve been conserving until now to sprint forward. It looks like he had a similar idea, but it’s not enough to keep me from pulling ahead. My feet skid against the dirt when I reach the edge of the yard, almost losing my balance as I try to pivot for the door. It’s just another one, two, three strides, and my hand is on the wood.
“I WIN!” I shout to the sky and then immediately bend over, hands on my knees as I catch my breath.
“Good job, puppy,” the equally out of breath orc congratulates a moment later, leaning against the fence. “Before we go inside, I want to show you something.” He has me follow him around to the back of the house, where attached to one of the walls is a series of stone pipes. “There are a number of underground rivers running under the city. Thanks to them as well as some orc ingenuity, the enchantments on the pipes mean we are able to enjoy a nice hot shower without having to heat the water ourselves.”
I stare at the crisscrossing pipes coming up from the ground and disappearing into the wall, a little in awe. I don’t think have anything like that back home, not even the really rich people. Some places like the academy had plumbing to bring water inside, but all the bathrooms were still outside, and we had to heat our water the old-fashioned way, on a stove or over a fire. Imagine never running out of hot water for cooking or cleaning or whatever else you might need, not to mention being able to use the bathroom inside! I am already looking forward to that shower when we walk back around to the front. “If you had told me it was a hot shower, I would have run even faster. Do all your houses have this?”
“No, it was not until I was around ten that I lived in a home with plumbing.” Yeah, I’m jealous. “It is a fairly recent invention. Maybe forty years old? At the time, there was a pair of orcs who had spent some time in an elven city with a similar system. After they returned, they devised a system of our own and began what I understand has since become a fairly lucrative business. Most public buildings have already been converted, and much of the rest of the city is on a waiting list.”
“Wow.” Who knew there was money in making toilets?
We start walking back around to the front while Sir fishes out his keys to unlock the door. Once we’re inside, I can really feel the sweat-soaked clothes sticking to my skin. I start pulling my shirt off while being led to the bathroom, before we’re even in the room. He pushes the door open and walks over to the tub, bending over and showing me how the knobs work.
“The left is hot and the right is cold. There is soap right there and towels under the wash basin.” He turns and smiles at me before making his exit. “I will see you when you are finished.”
I’m not sure why I do what I do next. Maybe it’s because he’s taking me to see my friends tomorrow, or maybe I’m worried that he won’t. Maybe it’s the day of training catching up with me, or because it feels like he might actually care sometimes. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind, but for whatever reason, I open my mouth and say...
“Together.” The single word is blurted out, making him pause. Let’s try a full sentence now, David. “We could shower together, I mean. To save water.”
“To save water.” A smirk spreads slowly across his face. “Are you certain?”
“I... Yes.” I shift awkwardly but appreciate him going along with the flimsy excuse.
“Alright. Hand me your clothes and turn on the water.” He begins removing his own shirt. “I will be right back.”
I strip off the rest of my clothing as requested, which Khazak takes into the bedroom while I turn around and start the shower. I don’t know how hot he likes it, but I think I remember what the water felt like the first time we showered...among other things. I’m testing the water with my hands when he rejoins me, body naked like mine. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, glistening in the light in contrast to his coarse, dark body hair.
Before I’m caught staring too much, I step into the wooden tub, leaving room for him to join me. It’s a bit of a squeeze—this isn’t nearly as big as our last shower—but we manage. Things are a little awkward at first, though it’s more the “whoops, didn’t mean to bump into you” kind of awkward. There’s a lot more giggling than I would have expected for two grown men in a shower together.
Once we’re both wet and settled into a comfortable position (which ends up being with his body blocking most of the spray), he reaches for a jar of what I figure is shampoo once he pours some onto my head. He does the same for himself, lathering up his own hair quickly before moving on to mine. He’s not as fast, slower, sensual even, scratching my scalp gently with his fingers as he works. I close my eyes, both to avoid getting something in them and because it feels nice. He leans me forward when he’s finished, rinsing the suds away so I can see again.
Next, he grabs the soap and a sponge. Just like last time, rather than hand them to me, he starts washing my chest himself, his other arm around my waist to steady me. I’m expecting him to move to the rest of my body like last time, but instead, he places the sponge in my hand, then lifts it to his own chest.
“I thought I won the race?” I joke as he “helps” me scrub his own chest.
“Your punishment for throwing the crop earlier,” he reasons with me while wearing a lecherous smile, releasing my hand.
I don’t complain, but I do give a knowing smirk when I take over the washing duties. I can do this. I run the sponge over the tattoo on his pec, the water dripping from over his shoulders and making the soap run down the lines of his muscles. I used to think I’d look like this one day, or at least close. Still might have if I had stayed at the academy. But it’s a lot of work. And calories.
I have him lift his hands to my shoulder when I move onto his arms. This has the added effect of opening up his armpit, the scent of his musk taking me back to the old locker room. It’s also having some other, newer effects on me that I’m really glad I didn’t know about before. Of course, that only makes things worse when I have to lean forward to clean the armpits themselves. My cock is pointing almost straight out, the head occasionally brushing against his thighs. He doesn’t mention it though.
I move down to his broad stomach. I can feel the muscles underneath the healthy layer of softness on top. I watch the soap run between the creases where his thigh meets his torso, to the left and right of his big green cock. It’s not as hard as mine, but it’s not fully soft either. I haven’t actually gotten a good look at it before. It’s thick, thicker than I am, and it certainly has a few inches on me in length too. He’s uncircumcised like I am, his partial erection causing some of his cockhead to peek through the hood. I stare at it, still too unsure to just reach out and touch it when a green hand gently grabs my wrist and moves it forward.
The sponge presses against the side of his cock, and I see the appendage twitch in response. I tentatively scrub the sponge against his skin, dragging it over the top of his cock and through his pubic hair to bring it back down on the other side. Okay David, stop pussyfooting around. It’s just a dick.
I take hold of his shaft with my free hand and hear a sharp intake of breath. I slowly spread the soap up and down before lifting it and swiping the sponge along his sack. That earns me a shudder, and I drop the sponge so I can use both hands to wash him more thoroughly. His balls are heavy as I spread the soap around, his cock only growing harder. I’m not trying to jerk him off, but I’m also not not trying to jerk him off.
Still, there’s only so much I can do before it’s obvious I’m not just washing him anymore, so once he’s clean, I kneel down to pick up my discarded sponge. Looking up from there puts me face to face with his one-eyed monster and apparently that is finally enough for some of that good old-fashioned shame to kick in, forcing me to look away.
While I’m down here though, I start to scrub his legs. What? I want to do a good job. I steady myself against his leg, and I run the sponge up and down his thighs, even reaching around to wash the back for good measure. His calves are huge. By the time I’m finally done with his body, I feel like I’ve gotten a good workout.
“Good job,” Sir tells me as he helps me to my feet. “Get my back?”
He turns around to present his muscled back to me, with his equally muscular ass right below it. It’s covered in the same dark fur as the rest of him, his back less so. I set to work, scrubbing all the hard-to-reach places you can’t get on your own. When I reach his lower back, I hesitate before going lower. I’ve never washed another man’s ass before. I mean, I’ve never washed another man’s dick before today either, but this feels different.
