The Orc’s Twink (Bathhouse Beasts #10)

The Orc’s Twink Kaleb

The Orc’s Twink: Kaleb

Another day, another shift watching the cruisers come to the park and then inside each other. Then they left, both of us pretending we hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.

Now, it was my duty, as a conservation officer, to make sure that the park stayed clean, family friendly, and devoid of hullaballoo of all kinds.

However, considering the park I managed was off the beaten path and not a family destination, I was happy to let a few things slide.

Especially when that meant I got to watch now and then.

Not to mention, it was great fodder for the fan-fiction I liked to write during my free time.

There were several miles of hiking trails that wound through the park, nearly all of them buried in the woods.

Even those that brushed the edge of the lake were so heavily wooded that it was difficult to see the water.

It was my job to patrol them every day, make sure everything was in good shape, and keep the park in good condition. And honestly? I loved it.

I'd been at this job for three years now, and the solitude suited me.

Most days I drove the park's UTV along the winding paths, the hum of the small engine and the occasional birdsong my only companions.

My boss barely checked in, save for a required phone call every Friday.

As long as the trash cans were emptied and no one complained, I was left to my own devices.

Today was particularly beautiful. Late spring sunshine filtered through the canopy, creating dappled patterns on the forest floor. I'd already cleared the main entrance area and was heading deeper into the park, my UTV bouncing over exposed roots and small rocks.

I nodded at a middle-aged couple with hiking poles as I passed. They waved back, their faces flushed from exertion. This was the normal routine, just friendly acknowledgments from the few hikers who ventured this far into the woods. But I knew there were others who came here for different reasons.

Just as I rounded a bend near Foxglove Trail, one of the more secluded paths, I heard it.

A low groan that definitely wasn't from pain.

I slowed the UTV immediately, cutting the engine.

Years of experience had taught me to trust my instincts, and right now they were telling me someone was having a good time just off the main trail.

Someone who may or may not enjoy an audience.

I stepped quietly from the vehicle, my boots making minimal noise on the soft earth. Moving toward the sound, I ducked behind a large oak about twenty yards from the trail. And that's when I saw them.

A human man was pressed against a tree, his hiking pants around his ankles.

Behind him stood what was unmistakably a werewolf, white fur gleaming in the sun.

He stood at least six and a half feet tall, his own shorts abandoned a few feet away in the dry leaves.

His clawed hands gripped the human's hips with careful restraint.

My breath caught. The human's face was contorted in pleasure, not fear. This was consensual, and hot as hell.

I should have announced my presence. Should have moved on. Instead, I found myself sinking slowly to a crouch behind the tree, my hand drifting to the growing bulge in my uniform pants.

The werewolf leaned forward, running his tongue, longer than any human's, up the back of his partner's neck, eliciting another moan that sent a shiver straight to my groin. I unzipped my fly as quietly as possible, freeing myself as I continued to watch.

This wasn’t the first time I’d caught a pair of men in the act out on my rounds.

Usually I kept driving after getting a good look and sometimes I stayed and watched.

But I never participated. Part of me wanted to, but the uniform and the badge would probably scare people off.

Not to mention, if I got caught and it got reported to my boss, I’d never work in conservation again.

I loved my job too much to risk it. But hiding behind a tree and stroking myself lazily?

I could risk that just this once, especially when it was a werewolf.

Monsters had appeared in the world just before I was born.

Growing up I was told to keep to my own kind, to hang out with humans and nobody else.

But I never understood all the fuss. Monsters were just like everyone else.

They had jobs, families, and paid taxes.

Just because they had fur, claws, scales, horns, or tails didn’t mean they were dangerous.

It just meant they were… well, different. And I loved it.

That’s why I couldn’t resist pulling my cock out as I watched the two men rutting up against a tree. It was so… hot.

The werewolf's hands slid possessively around to the human's chest, claws carefully retracted as he pulled the man closer against his furred body.

I watched, transfixed, as the werewolf's hips began to move with more urgency. The human bit his lower lip, clearly trying to stay quiet despite his obvious pleasure. From my angle, I could just see the werewolf’s balls swinging as he thrust over and over again.

My own hand moved slowly at first, savoring the voyeuristic thrill.

The werewolf's ears twitched occasionally, and I wondered if his heightened senses might detect me.

Could he hear the soft rustle of fabric as I stroked?

Smell my pheromones on the breeze? Maybe he could hear my breathing as I worked myself over.

The thought sent another jolt of excitement through my body.

"Harder," I heard the human whisper, his voice barely carrying to where I hid. "Please, I can take it."

The werewolf growled and obliged, his powerful form tensing with each thrust. I matched my pace to theirs, my breathing growing heavier as I watched the werewolf's tail swish with increasing agitation.

Sunlight caught in the werewolf's fur, giving him an almost ethereal glow. Sweat glistened on the human's back where his hiking shirt had ridden up. They were beautiful together, primal and uninhibited in a way I envied.

I leaned my head against the rough bark of the oak, my free hand bracing against the trunk.

The forest around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the three of us in our separate but connected moments of pleasure.

The soft sounds of their coupling mixed with the distant calls of birds and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

The werewolf bent down, his muzzle nuzzling against the human's ear, whispering something I couldn't catch. Whatever he said made the human tremble visibly, his hands scrabbling against the tree bark for purchase.

I was getting close now, my hand moving faster on my cock as I watched the werewolf's movements become more erratic. His control was slipping, and the human seemed to revel in it, pushing back against each thrust.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance. I froze, my heart pounding. The werewolf's head snapped up, nose twitching as he scented the air. For one terrifying moment, I thought he was looking directly at me, but his gaze passed over my hiding spot.

"Someone's coming," he growled, his voice deep and rough.

The human cursed, reaching for his pants. "How far?"

"Far enough. We have time to finish." The werewolf pulled his partner closer, his movements now urgent and desperate.

I should have stopped. Someone else was approaching. Probably hikers. I needed to get back to my UTV, to pretend I was just doing my rounds. But I couldn't tear myself away, not when they were so close. Not when I was so close.

The werewolf's body tensed, his head thrown back in silent ecstasy.

The human followed moments later, biting down on his own forearm to muffle his cries.

And I, hidden behind my tree, found my own release, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood as I tried to stay silent.

My cum painted the leaves on the ground, the last few shots dribbling down my fingers.

As they hastily dressed, I tucked myself away and carefully backed up, making sure to avoid any dry leaves or branches.

My heart was still racing, but now with the added thrill of almost being caught.

I made it back to my UTV just as the werewolf and his partner emerged onto the trail, looking slightly disheveled but presentable.

I started the engine as if I'd just arrived, giving them a casual nod as I drove past. The human nodded back nervously, but the werewolf held my gaze a moment too long, his amber eyes knowing. He winked at me, a small smirk playing at his muzzle.

My face burned. He knew. Somehow, he'd known I was there all along.

I drove on, my mind already spinning the encounter into a new chapter for my latest fanfiction.

This park might be off the beaten path, but it never failed to provide inspiration.

I couldn't stop thinking about the werewolf's wink as I drove back to the ranger station.

Did he really know I was watching the whole time?

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through my body, despite having just gotten off.

When I reached the station, I parked the UTV in its designated spot and grabbed the trash bags I'd collected from various bins throughout the park.

It was one of the less glamorous parts of the job, but necessary.

I hauled them to the dumpster behind the building, wincing at the sour smell that wafted up when I lifted the lid.

After washing my hands thoroughly in the station's small bathroom, I settled at my desk.

The building was essentially a glorified cabin.

There was a front office area with a desk and some informational pamphlets about local wildlife, and a back room with a cot for those long summer nights when I sometimes stayed over.