There I was, staring at a set of tits, like two milky cantaloupes they were. They were connected to a she-elf and like everyone else in the tavern I was watching this pair of jugs swing back and forth on the elegant form they sprang from. Igred and I arrived in Thaneswood a fortnight prior, and this was the only entertainment this shithole offered.
We were still looking for that damnable vampire we'd been sent here for, but he was an elusive little sucker. So, night after night, I found myself here in the tavern drinking a flagon or two, chatting with the locals, and gazing at the elvish dancers as they gyrated on one another. It was great sport, went well with the stout ale this place served.
You see, elvish women were tall and fair, most of them were blonde, of course, but the way their skin glistened was entrancing. Like gold, wet, writhing gold. These two beauties had been dancing with one another for about an hour now. They could have been twins, if you couldn't see the subtle differences in elfkind.
Regardless, this matching set of perky beauties started their dance by grinding against one another, face to face. Both of them mashing their elven mounds on the others thigh as they danced. Their hands exploring their bodies, their breasts pressed against one another. They had been locked in this dance, their faces intimately close, but never kissing, never touching.
Instead the deigned it good enough to leave their audience clinging to that narrow strip of air where their lips didn't meet. It was far more potent than all the skin that was pressed and gnashed between them. That was how it started, now though? Oh, now, one was standing with her legs agape. Bent so that those titties were swaying for the drunkards in the bar. The other she-elf was behind her, one hand rubbing up and down the bent spine of the other girl. Her other hand, slipped somewhere out of view.
It left little to the imagination, where her hand must be. Even less when you factor the lovely faces the pleasured elf was making. Olive colored, almond shaped eyes, squeezed shut. All while trembling hands braced to shuddering legs told the story of the robust fingering she was taking.
Gods, I'd have given my right nut and my left ass cheek to trade places with the administering elf. I'd have more than fingers to provide. As it were though, it wasn't an option that night. All I could do was watch with lingering, watered eyes as my drunkenness and arousal coexisted in one euphoric mixture.
All that changed when Tamiling "cock eye" came strutting over to me, equally snoggared. I could tell by his stumble that he was two ales shy of a sudden night's sleep, and his piss stained trousers further told of the extent of inebriation.
"Oy," he beckoned, "you Gaius?" His stammering legs had the unfortunate strength left to find their way to me and gave out as his ass met the stool beside me.
"Aye, I am." I managed with a forced smile, "What can I do you for?"
"I hear yer lookin fer a vampire," He sloshed, "I know where 'e is, I do." Tamiling was bold to make such a statement in the open, or drunk. Probably just drunk.
"Well Gods be praised, my search is concluded!" I exclaimed, I tried to sound as though I were kidding, "and where might he be, mister Tamiling?" Only now did he show caution, wobbling weary head from left to right, looking for spies in the darkness.
"The Thane's the damned neck sucker!" He whispered, a spray of saliva issuing from his sparingly toothed mouth.
"Hah, You're quite the kidder, friend." I said, "but I think I'll be tunring in now, I suggest you do the same." I got out of there quick, eager to get myself away from Tamiling. Not because he was hammered, but because he was probably right.
I could have slapped myself for missing it. Vampires are vain, egotistical, usually wealthy, always over sexed... but cautious. They're fucking cautious, so of course the Thane never registered in my mind. He knew I was looking for a vampire too, which made things dangerously worse.
I formulated a plot as I fumbled my way back to the inn. Igred would be happy to see me and more thrilled that our search had yielded a target. And I would be more than happy to look upon her green, witchly skin and smooth tattooed snatch as I gave her a quick, drunken thrust before bed.
Well, I ended up being wrong on both counts. She was troubled by the news of the Thane being our mark and she had some feminine issues that prevented my thrusting. She did relinquish a swift and decisive blow job though, which proved satisfying to my member.
"Sit," she cooed, guiding me to the bed where I reclined for her. She undid my pants, something she was becoming quite adept at, and pulled my half-hard pecker from within. She descended upon it instantly and my cock sobered up, stiffening quickly under her loving tongue.
Igred worked her dark lips over my meat, her tongue flicked at my head with every upward move of her mouth. Soon my hands clutched her raven hair, her rhythm stealing the strength from my body. It was easy to forget the she-elves when Igred's taught form, kneeling between my legs, was staring back at me.
With only slurps and moans coming from her mouth, she had me ready now. She could sense it too, and popped her lips from my glistening pole. With her slender fingers wrapped tightly around my cock she pumped fiercely, her open mouth above my head, her outstretched tongue working my slit. It was far too much for me to handle and tensed.
My pulsing rod produced a blast that sent a streak of white up her tongue, her hand slowed, teasing several more spurts of seed out for her waiting mouth. She pressed her lips to my head and suckled, my legs kicked involuntarily as she drained what last bits of cum she could and swallowed.
I awoke the next morning just as she had left me, with my pants down, spread legged on the edge of the bed. My shrunken dick stuck to my skin. Bleary eyed, I searched for my assistant but there was no sign of her in the room. I sat, tucked myself back in my pants and tried my best to stand. It was rough work, fighting off the ill effects of the ale that morning. I did my best though.
I finally met up with Igred outside of the inn. Her fully disguised form was easy to find. She had to wear a full cloak with hood at all times outside of the room, since witches were tried and killed in almost every town. When she spotted me, Igred slinked her way across the mud pit of a street and greeted me.
"You passed out last night, my sweet." Her words played seductively in my ears, as her gloved fingers squeezed at my package.