A request featuring Thrall and Jaina.

***

“Where is Khadgar?” Jaina huffed, using her fingers to draw a glowing purple rune in the air and then shaking her head in frustration.

Deep within the heart of a looming Dalaran citadel, Horde, Alliance and Kirin Tor alike met to discuss the evolving war in Northrend. Guided by two guards–one human and the other an orc–they made their way through expansive corridors towards what would be there meeting room. Always the advocate for peace, she had arranged the meeting with Thrall’s help, and while she had expected some difficulties, she did not expect them to arise before discussions had even started.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this again!”

“I’m sure he’ll show up eventually,” Thrall replied nonchalantly, evidently not as worried over the wizard’s absence as Jaina was.

It was an unwise remark, for she redirected her frustrations at him.

“And did you have to bring him with you?” Jaina jerked her head towards the half-naked mag’har orc in front of her and then shot her walking companion a disapproving look.

“He needs the experience,” Thrall explained, gently resting a hand upon her shoulder. “And it’s my responsibility to look after him.”

He and Jaina walked side by side, slowly so that they were out of earshot of the group in front of them. Already bickering before they had reached the negotating table, Garrosh and Varian raged at each other, shouting, insulting, and, on more than one occasion, threatening one another. The other members of their meeting party–Archmages Modera, Pentarus and a number of ancient men with long, scraggly beards–shied away from the two arguing men. Despite the efforts of everyone present, they could not be mollified, and so the next best course of action was to simply get out of the crossfire and hope that things didn’t escalate into violence.

It was an awful start to what she hoped would be a peaceful, productive meeting.

“He is older than you are, Thrall!” Jaina continued. “Garrosh is not a child and you are not his father–he should not be here so that he may potentially sour our negotiations.”

“One way or another, he has to learn, Jaina. Things will be fine, so long as you do not let his attitude affect you.” Thrall’s hand, still clinging to her shoulder, dipped lower and lower, softly brushing along the length of her back before reaching the hump of her behind. He grabbed it and squeezed, scrunching the fabric of her robe.

“I do not think it will be he that affects me,” she sighed, voice hushed and her blue eyes darting around in panic. They were safe at least: no one was looking back at them to notice Thrall’s misplaced hand. Garrosh and Varian were too caught up in their verbal war and the rest of the group was too busy murmuring amongst themselves, no doubt complaining about the men in front of them.

“Will you please stop doing that in public,” she whispered, heart racing in excitement despite her protestations.

“Fine, fine,” he said, squeezing a handful of her Ass again and then retracting his hand.

“Thank you.” Jaina nodded primly, running her hands down her robe and flattening out perceived yet non-existent wrinkles. “There will be plenty of time for that later,” she promised, and then her eyes narrowed. “Provided your ward doesn’t start a war first.”

Thrall chuckled. “You worry too much… and besides, your human king seems just as eager to trade insults.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “They bring out the worst in each other.”

“Then we will have to be the voice of reason now won’t we, Lady Proudmoore?” Thrall smiled warmly, his voice mockingly formal.

“Certainly, warchief.” Jaina returned the smile, simultaneously swatting away the orc’s probing green hand as it reached once more for her rear-end. “I just pray that you are able to concentrate on the issues at hand.”

“I’ll try, but between the three of you I think I’ll have my hands full.”

“Figuratively, I hope,” Jaina teased, her smile widening.

“We will see about that!”

They shared a laugh and continued walking, ascending a long, spiral flight of stairs and proceeding through cobbled, somehow-dust-Free hallways until they finally reached an antechamber that connected to the conference room. It was empty save for a number of plush violet chairs, and their guards hurried across the room, opening a wide, gate-like door and ushering the party of four inside. The door to the meeting room was huge, and Garrosh and Varian surged through it, brushing shoulders as they rushed to their seats with a great clattering of wood against stone. Thrall and Jaina had yet to even pass through the door before the troublesome duo was seated and glaring at one another from across the massive round table.

Exchanging a glance and a shrug of their eyebrows, Thrall and Jaina sat down next to each other. Situated at the middle of the table with their backs to the door, to their right was Garrosh, and to their left, Varian. Across from them, and likewise sitting together, was the quintet of Dalaran mages in all of their (mostly) bearded glory.

Sitting together as they were, Jaina and Thrall hoped to portray an image of unity, trust, and understanding. Everyone at the table had their own biases, but, as they had both explained countless times before, a bit of trust could go a long way. It was with this mindset that they led the discussion, steering it in a productive manner while their belligerent companions stayed quiet.

They hammered down a mutually beneficial trade agreement revolving around the exchange of Horde iron for Alliance rations, shared information on Scourge movement, including their flying necropolis structures, and promised to dial back aggression between the two factions in Northrend–particularly in areas where the Scourge threat was most prominent. As they spoke, Garrosh and Varian did little else but nod; it was clear that while they were both stubborn and hotheaded, each of them cared about their people in their own unique way.

Still, they were stubborn and they were hotheaded. Garrosh scoffed frequently, particularly when Thrall spoke of working together with the Alliance or cooperating with Varian. Combining their forces was simply out of the question.

“I’m not working with him!” he roared, pointing a meaty finger at Varian. “A true orc would never work with their enemy!”

“‘True orc?’ I’ve seen peons more fitting of that title than you!” Varian laughed. “That’s fine by me–I’m sure he and his men would only get in the way.” He shrugged his armored shoulders and shook his head. “I will work with you, Thrall, but not with this beast.”

“BEAST?” Garrosh slammed his hands down upon the table, demonstrating it’s sturdiness by staying in one piece.

“Oh, here we go…” Archmage Modera muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Jaina sighed and buried her face in her hands while Thrall struggled to calm his friend down. The meeting was hopeless now and she knew it: no good could come from having these two in the same room together–perhaps in the same city even. She would have to meet with Varian and Thrall later. An inefficient use of time but if it had to be done then it had to be done. Then again, being alone with Thrall might prove to be an equally inefficient use of her time…

As if seeking to prove her point, minutes later, after having calmed Garrosh down, she felt one of his hands drape itself across her leg. Her body stiffened and, still face palming, she peeked at him through her hands. “What are you doing?” She projected her voice into his mind, a barely audible whisper as if she was speaking aloud and afraid of being heard.

“Searching for a better use of our time,” Thrall replied, his hand stealthily pulling back her robe and creeping underneath it.

“Don’t be insane!” she shouted into his mind, glancing around the table to their compatriots. Thankfully, they seemed none the wiser to where Thrall’s hand was located.

Her telepathic protest fell upon deaf ears, and Thrall’s fingers were soon encroaching upon her bare mound, pushing past the fabric of her panties and the little blonde tuft of hair crowning her womanhood. Leaving one hand palm-pressed against her forehead with fingers buried in her hair, she moved her other hand to Thrall’s, struggling in vain to lift it. Ignoring her protests, he pressed his fingers against her, first rubbing them up and down her folds and then using them to tease at the little nub of her clit.

Jaina squeezed her milky-white thighs together, her small hand grasping at the much larger one buried between her legs. It was no use of course, and Thrall was soon fingerblasting her underneath the table. Her teeth clenched tightly together and she cleared her throat to stifle a moan.

“Something you wish to say, human?” Garrosh said, seemingly offended. Apparently she had interrupted him without realizing it.

“Hmm?” Jaina gathered her wits together and lifted her head to address the brown orc. “Apologies, I wasn’t listening. Do continue.”

“Are you feeling alright, Jaina?” Varian asked.

“Just a touch under the weather perhaps. I will be fine.”

Varian nodded and Garrosh snorted. “And I’m supposed to take her seriously? A woman in a fancy dress that doesn’t even pay attention at a diplomatic meeting?”

“Watch your tongue around Lady Proudmoore,” Thrall rumbled, his fingers temporarily coming to a halt while he scolded the other orc. “She has saved many orc lives and done far more to help the Horde than she ever needed to–a lesson in kindness that you could learn from.”

Garrosh grumbled and averted his eyes, while Varian poked him with a verbal jest that incited another argumentative flame war.

“Thank you.” Her voice whispered into his head.

“I wouldn’t want you to lose your temper and light him on fire or something,” Thrall whispered back jokingly, albeit out loud rather than telepathically. His fingers began to move again while he spoke, and she squirmed in her seat as he dug into her Pussy, stretching her with his girthy fingers.

“You know,” she began, voice strained, “…that I hate resorting to violence.”

He smiled at her jest and continued to explore her depths, fingers wiggling and thrusting in and out of her while his hand cupped her tingling mound. In an effort to hide what was happening beneath the table, Jaina leaned fully forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand while her fingers covered her mouth. In this way she stifled her moans while Thrall worked her Pussy into a sopping mess, her juices soaking his fingers, her thighs, and the trimmed blonde hair of her landing strip. Amazingly, no one seemed to notice, and she feigned interest in the conversation at hand–if the argument taking place could be called that–while occasionally shooting Thrall frustrated looks.

The pleasure that his fingers brought about could not be denied, however, and she found herself struggling to fight off a powerful Orgasm just as the argument between Garrosh and Varian likewise sought its own climax. Without her noticing, the two had risen to their feet, shouting as they attempted to arrange a fight. She missed the details such as time and place and weapons of choice, but she did vaguely pick up on someone calling her name as a green finger against her clit simultaneously brought her to Orgasm.

“Oh, Lady Proudmoore! Please do something!”

A voice belonging to a man addressed her, and a flash of worry over them being discovered raced through her mind before it was engulfed by a torrent of pleasure. There was no stopping it now: with her chin still resting in the cup of her palm, Jaina bit one of her fingers, her curvy body shaking underneath her fine robe. Her eyelids drooped, almost shutting entirely, and a soft, barely contained moan that desired to be more boisterous than it was leaked from her mouth.

“Jaina? Jaina, are you ok?”

She swallowed and composed herself in an instant. The voice registered: it belonged to Archmage Donathan. “I’m fine… just a bit under the weather is all.”

“Perhaps it would be best if we all took a break and, uh, cooled down a bit?” Pentarus proposed, his eyes playing a game of back and forth between Garrosh and Varian.

“Good idea,” Thrall agreed, sharing a knowing look with Jaina.

“Take your break! Me and this human have business to attend to!” Garrosh bellowed.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jaina stood up, an aura of shimmering purple, blue and silver enshrouding her for a moment as she raised a hand and directed her gaze upon both Garrosh and Varian. Powerful as she was, her incantation didn’t take long: before either could even look at her the spell had been cast, her varicolored cloak of arcane magic disappearing–and with it, the two arguing men.

“I have teleported them to opposite ends of the citadel. They won’t be back for some time.” In fact, we might need to send someone to find them, she thought to herself.

“Wonderful,” Modera said with a sigh of relief. “We can worry about them later. Right now I need a drink.”

A murmuring of agreement rose up from the Kirin Tor members, and Thrall found an opportunity to use their combined exasperation to his advantage.

“Why don’t we reconvene in an hour, then?” he suggested. Jaina looked at him and swallowed while the others nodded.

“An extended break? I like the way you think, Thrall!” Donathan chuckled and then glided out of the room, baggy robes and the rest of the Kirin Tor trailing behind him.

The door closed with a heavy click, and then they were alone at last, accompanied only by deathly silence. The mood in the room changed and in seconds they were on one another, groping, kissing and squeezing at each other’s bodies. Dropping her panties to the floor, she allowed Thrall to hoist her up onto the table, whereafter she leaned back and spread her legs for him, exposing her already-soaked Pussy and the tiny blonde strip of hair above it. He brought his head between her milky thighs and his tongue to her petals, spreading them apart as he traced his tongue up and down her sweltering womanhood. She sighed pleasantly, dropping her hands down onto his head and digging into his raven-black hair just as his tongue dug into her, spearing itself in and out of her greedy hole.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this,” she breathed.

“Consider it part of the trade deal,” Thrall replied, briefly stilling his tongue before continuing to eat her out.

His tongue was just as good as his fingers and she moaned freely, closing her thighs around his head as he worked her towards another volcanic climax that had her body quivering and her eyes rolling. Pulling himself Free from her thighs, Thrall brought his thumb to her clit, rubbing at it furiously as she came and squirted her juices out onto the floor and wooden table.

Panting, she fell back onto the table, chest rising and falling with a happy grin on her face. For a time, Thrall allowed her to catch her breath, but his patience was not limitless. He cleared his throat, gathering her attention and causing her to sit up.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “It’s… been so long since we’ve been together.”

“I know. We’re both always so busy,” he said, helping her climb off the table.

When her feet were on the ground, their bodies met with a kiss and his greedy hands explored her much smaller body, gripping, squeezing and struggling with her clothes.

“You know if you just calm down for a second I can get these off much faster than you can,” she laughed, twisting away from him and taking a few steps backwards.

Striking a pose, she snapped her fingers and in the blink of an eye her clothes were gone, stacked neatly atop her chair, leaving her standing fully nude for him to admire. She was short, and, as she spent most of her time indoors buried in her books, quite pale. Her frame was thin, yet soft and lush, with a stacked chest topped with soft pink nipples, a meaty behind and thick thighs. Whether by magic or not, the excess fat in her body seemed to go to all of the right places.

“See? No need to tear my robes apart,” she grinned, lowering herself down onto her knees before him.

“Sometimes a man wants to unwrap his gift,” he joked.

“Mmm.” Jaina’s smile widened, but her eyes were locked on the bulge in his trousers. Conversation was not what her mouth was interested in.

His trousers dropped, allowing his obelisk of a cock to spring out from their confinements. Long and bulky, it shadowed her face as she gazed up at it reverently, her tongue absentmindedly darting out to lick at her lips. Perhaps this wasn’t the proper time or place to be indulging herself, but by the gods was she Horny. A familiar tingling in her loins roused her and she sat up straight, grabbing at the slab of orc meat in front of her with both hands. Gripping his shaft tightly between her fingers, Jaina got to work pleasing him, jerking and massaging it up and down until she couldn’t take it anymore–the desire to taste it was too great. Leaning forward, she withdrew her hands, moving one to juggle his balls while her mouth enveloped his cock. Taking a brief moment to twirl her tongue around his spongy head, she then dove deeper, eyes closed and head tilted in order to better angle Thrall’s cock past her tonsils.

Suddenly, her eyes shot open and she pulled herself off of him.

“My wards! Almost forgot them!” Jaina’s expression turned serious for a moment and she etched a series of runes into the air at her side before nodding and turning back towards Thrall’s manhood. “Now I’ll know if anyone is on their way here.”

Diving back into her work, Jaina sucked his cock with obvious desire, blonde head lazily bobbing back and forth along his great green length, humming her appreciation as she savored his masculine flavor. His member was intimidating, but over the years she had gotten used to it; it had been a trial, but the gagging and sputtering of yesteryear was no more. She could suck on Thrall’s orcish meat just as well as a skilled Orgrimmar whore could service a grunt or a peon. In fact, she was better, and she proved it nearly every time they met by deepthroating him.

Pushing herself fully forward, she impaled herself on his cock, taking it deep into her gullet until there was no more left to take. Eyes watering, she ground her face against his groin, tickling her nose with pubic hair while the tip of her little tongue poked itself out of her mouth and teased at his balls. It was an impressive display of her dick sucking abilities and Thrall rumbled his appreciation; she had improved significantly since the first time she had taken him into her mouth.

His hand moved to gently brush at her golden locks, and she pulled back until only about half of his length remained. Resuming the lazy pace she had set earlier, Jaina took to noisily slurping on his cock, plush lips trailing along his length and leaving behind a heavy wake of glistening saliva while her hands fiddled and played with his bulky sack. She bobbed and suckled, fellated and swallowed, relishing the flavor of Thrall’s shiny emerald-hued cock as she enthusiastically spit shined it with her mouth. Jaina may not have been very good when Thrall had first met her, but she was an expert cock sucker now, and he could hardly hold on for more than a few minutes before he was ready to blow.

His grunts gradually rose in volume until he finally hit his climax, balls churning in her hand, pumping their sticky concoction up through his shaft and directly into her mouth. With a muffled utterance of surprise, Jaina locked her lips tight around his fat cockhead and slurped on it like a straw, thirstily gulping down his seed while she pleasured herself with one hand, fingers desperately working at her clit until she, too, was driven to climax.

Jaina groaned around the dick in her mouth, forgetting, in her orgasmic state, to swallow the chunky load being drained into her gullet. This brief lapse in concentration allowed her cheeks to bulge with Thrall’s creamy spunk, her mouth becoming a salty sea of sperm that threatened to drown her. Quickly coming down from the high of her Orgasm and regaining her composure, she chugged down Thrall’s orcish batter in two large gulps and then pulled away, catching a gooey shot to the face.