Before you stands a tall, black orc (and judging by his size, possessing more than a drop of ogre blood) of imposing stature, cruel intelligent gaze and unbridled girth.
Thick head, topped off with a slick ponytail, looked the part of a clever monster he was.  
Tusks, left one broken in half, both jagged and menacing, protruded from his lower jaw like the ancient weapons of a forgotten machine of war.
His eyes, pools of dark red veiny blood, betrayed intelligence well above ascribed to his kind. Judging by his laughter in worst of situations, such intellect was marred to cruelty -all too often- ascribed to his kind.

Clearly, judging by his form, the warrior saw too much success for his own good, the beast's stomach was a sight to behold, veteran of, judging by the scars covering it, as many battles as it saw feasts.
Yet the log-thick arms and legs betrayed that beneath that layer of spoils, were muscles and strength that one'd be foolish to underestimate in a confrontation.
Fingers were fat, scarred, and calloused, especially on the knuckles. Tattoos of a military nature cover his body, some of them looking a bit comical now as they were clearly drawn before he grew (so) fat.

Thick black cock, not quite equine but close to it, hung from his groin, ready to break any bitch that'd cause his interest - and judging by that cruel gaze from his red eyes, whether she agreed to it, or not, was a call he didn't much care about.