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.