Richard Doublefist

I first met Richard Doublefist back when I was a waitress-slash-booze-wench at a midscale tavern on the lower west side of Edenwood. I had fewer piercings back then, and no tattoos -- I was eighteen, trying to figure out what to do with my life, and enjoying a low-key existence in the meantime. Sleep in 'til noon, hit up the library (some people will tell you that the best libraries are in Magetown, but those are purely academic -- Edenwood has the best of everything else), then head to work, serve ale, drink ale, go home with a cute customer if I found one (only guys back then -- it was a few more months before I started experimenting with the fairer, more tonguey sex), and repeat.

It was, honestly, a pretty good life if you had no ambition. However, I did, so from time to time I got a little crazy. But I knew something would drop in my lap soon enough, and I'd figure out what I wanted to do with my life and go do it.

Until then -- low-key fun was the name of the game.

Richard had already been at the bar for an hour when I relieved Andradil from her post. He was cute enough at first glance, though I didn't care too much for brooders. Sure, they tended to be quiet, they tended to drink enough to keep my boss happy, and they tended to tip enough to keep me happy, but still...back then, it was hard for me to not look at a guy and think about what he'd be like in bed. And the brooders, I had discovered, tended to be quick and selfish lovers. Snore.

"What's with the elf?" I asked Andradil quietly as she slipped off her apron and I slipped mine on.

"Eh. Nothing special," she said. "Drinking some strong stuff, going at a medium pace. Pretty sure he likes guys, though. Either that or he's a eunuch."

I took another glance at the guy and realized that he was totally Andradil's type. Slender, but with wide shoulders, a more subtle set of ears than the severely swept back pointy ones, gray eyes with light brows and a mouth that looked like a ledge chiseled into the stone of a cliff. Undoubtedly she'd been trying to flirt and failing, hence her evaluation of his sexuality or lack thereof.

"Maybe he's just being elfy," I said in response. Men were easy to ensnare and wrap around your finger if you wanted to wrap yourself around them later. Elves, though, were picky, and their arousal was highly dependent on their mood. You never knew what they were going to want or when.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Andradil laughed. "Gay or sans balls. Definitely." She prided herself on being able to pull any elf she desired -- even though based on my observations, she was no more successful at it than the rest of us girls.

We said good night and I started my shift. It was pretty quiet, but that wasn't unexpected for the middle of the week -- especially for a bar that was normally frequented by merchants, businessmen, and the "soft clergy", the bookkeepers and administrators who keep the local branches of the big religions running. I handled the few customers who came up to the bar, all the while keeping an eye on the brooder in the corner. When his glass ran low, I grabbed the appropriate square brown bottle from its shelf and brought it over to him.

"Another?" I asked. He paused, then nodded and pushed his drink forward. I bent over, allowing gravity and my corset to fight a proxy battle for the customer's attention. I pretended to focus on his glass, but secretly watched his eyes to see if I could earn a glance or two.

Nothing. He kept his gaze on the surface of the bar as I finished filling his drink.Huh, I thought to myself, standing upright,maybe Andradil was right. That's when he spoke up, almost as if he could read my damn mind.

"I'm not gay," he said. I was caught off-guard -- I didn't peg him for a psychic. But despite my surprise, I'm a professional and I didn't let it show.

"I'm sorry?"

"The other bartender told you that she thought I was gay. I'm not." He paused. "I'm also not a eunuch. Maybe I should have led with that."

"Oh," I said.Damn it, Andradil. "You heard that, huh?"

"These aren't for decoration," he told me, tapping the lobe of his elven ear. I chuckled politely, but I was a bit disappointed. Psychics, I'd found, could be fun to be around...especially when they did their little mind-reading tricks in the bedroom. Half of the kinks I've discovered in myself are thanks to those braindivers who reached down inside of me during a good fuck session to pull something new and crazy out of me.

"Anyway," he continued, "I'm not gay. I just don't go for girls who have no tits."

This time, I let out a real laugh. Andradil was skinny, sure, but that slender look came at a price. And although she'd never admit it, shewas upset about her lack of endowment. In fact, whenever she got too braggy about her seduction abilities, I always made sure to start complaining about my corset, adjusting it and readjusting it and essentially shoving my boobs in her face until she shut up.

"I keep telling her she's missing out," I said. "It's only a couple of hundred gold for a size enchantment, but she insists on going 'all natural'."

"Natural is nice," the patron admitted. "But there are some really nice spells these days. Most people can't tell the difference." He took a long swig from his glass, draining it and motioning for another. "You've had some work done. Not on your boobs. A little bit lower."

"How did you...oh, that's right," I said, interrupting myself.

"Elf," he and I said at the same time. I should have guessed. Most of them can sense the presence of magic. With that said, most of them can't sense what enchantments are present without casting a spell of their own, but I've met many that are smart enough to pick up on context and environmental cues to get a good enough idea of what's going on.

"So where do you feel it?" I asked him. "When you sense that sort of thing, I mean." I leaned on the bar, presumably to clean a particularly difficult stain, but really just trying to entice him to look at the carefully cultivated rack I had spilling out of the top of my apron.

"Can't tell you," he said with a quick raise of the eyebrows and a raise of his glass. Each elf has their own distinct way of telling when magic is nearby -- for some, it's an itchy nose, for others, pressure on the eyes, and for others still, a rising sense of irritability. The like to be all secretive about their particular quirk as well -- but I've found that most of them, male or female, are more than willing to give up all of their secrets after I've had my mouth on them for a few minutes.

This elf, however, seemed like he might be tougher to crack. I'd spent several minutes trying to flash him some boob, yet he hadn't glanced once towards my chest. Elves have good peripheral vision, but after you have a little bit of practice you can tell when they're using it. This one, however...it was almost like he was rubbing in my face the fact that he wasn't looking at them. Almost as if he knew what I was trying to do, and he wanted me to know that he knew.

Or something like that. I was starting to find myself attracted to him, so of course my brain was twisting around itself in strange ways.

"What's your name?" I asked.

The elf opened his mouth to answer, and somehow I just knew it was going to be some smart-ass comment that would partially annoy me and partially draw me in further to his obvious seduction trap. But before he could lay it on me, he was interrupted by a patron who stumbled up without either of us noticing the approach.

"Dicky Doublefist," the man roared, slapping my future conquest on the back. "How're they hanging?"

"Clydus," said 'Dicky' in a frighteningly calm voice, "I'll talk to you later."

"What? Is that any way for you to treat an old friend?" the man slurred. He caught a glimpse of me past 'Dicky', and unlike the elf he was fully drawn in by the cleavage.

"Whoah hahh," he said, hand on Dicky's shoulders and shaking the man roughly. "Working your charm on the busty ones, as always. Heya, missy, has Dicky here told you about his-"

"And enough," Dicky said, pointing his index finger straight up into the air until it poked the underside of the other patron's chin. Almost immediately, the man's jaw went slack, his eyes gained a faraway look, and the rest of his words came tumbling out with the grace of a giraffe rolling backwards down a hill.

Another elven trick. On a sober man, it merely calms. On a drunk, however, it's enough to make someone do a whole host of insane things.

"Apologize for interrupting our conversation, Clydus," Dicky said.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your conversation," the man replied. His voice was soft, almost tender, and lacked the slurring boisterousness it held a few moments before.

"Now drop a nice tip for..." he looked at me.

"Candace," I replied.

"For Candace," he said. "Then go back to your friends and enjoy the rest of the evening."

Wordlessly, Clydus took a bulging pouch from his waist and dropped it on the bar, then turned on his heel and walked over to a table of merchants and churchmen who were a little bit louder than the rest of the crowd. A second before he reached them, the elvish magic "Dicky" placed on him seemed to wear off, and he joined in with the laughter and the drink-spilling of the rest of the group.

"Nice," I said to my new favorite patron. I picked up the sack of coins and nodded at its weight. "And thank you. Can I have Clydus treat you to a drink?"

"No thanks," "Dicky" said, almost coldly, as he stood up and downed the rest of his drink. "See you around."

"Oh, okay," I reply, confused. "See you."

"Dicky" headed towards the door, but after a few steps he turned back to me.

"Just so you know," he said, "my name isn't 'Dicky'. It's Richard."

"Oh," I said. "Okay. I mean, that's not a very common name for an elf, but whatever." I paused, trying to decide whether or not to try and resurrect our banter.Whatever, I thought,I'm going for it.

"Now, is 'Doublefist' really your house name, or-"

Richard smirked, put up the hood of his cloak, and left the bar.

* * *

I ended up bumping into Richard two months later at a soiree I had absolutely no business being at. My boss had a friend who was a party planner for the wealthy elite of Edenwood, and he found himself in a situation where he needed to fill an event with, his words, "whoresets in corsets". I'm still not fully sure if it was a compliment that I was given an invitation and a dress that practically exposed my areolae to the world, but it was free booze surrounded by wealthy, attractive people of all races. There was no way I was going to pass up that opportunity.

I arrived at the venue an hour after the thing started, fashionably late, and expecting (or was it hoping?) to draw in dozens of eyes on me. But as I mentioned, the others at the venue were wealthy...and attractive...and if they weren't attractive, they were wealthy enough to hire someone attractive for their arm. There were humans, elves, half-orcs, dragon-fey, and more who were curvier than me, prettier than me, and showing off more skin than me. The competition was tough, the looks my way were few, and I really wasn't in the mood to pick up some drunk leftover to go home with.

I was bored and had nobody to talk to, and had just about resigned myself to leave when I spotted Richard sitting by himself at the bar. A beautiful creature with a woman's buxomly top and a lamia's serpentine bottom was pouring alcohol for him and giving him the same look that I did when I first met him. The one that tried to see whether or not he was checking her out.

He wasn't. Again, I wondered if Andradil was right after all and if he was gay, but unwilling to admit it. But, gay or not, he was the only person there who I wanted to talk to. I sneaked up on him, tapped him on one shoulder, and quickly sat down on his other side. My cutesie little trick barely even registered with him.

"Hey," he said, giving me a nod and taking a sip of his whiskey.

"How's it going, Dicky Doublefist?" I asked him, signaling to the lamia for the same drink. She smiled at me politely, but I could sense the jealous seething now that her cute, elven customer had a human female with fully working human female parts to talk to. I ignored her while relishing the tormented look on Richard's face.

"So," he said, "you remembered my nickname." He downed the drink and asked for another. "That's good."

"Aw, come on," I said, shaking his shoulder playfully, both surprised and a little intrigued by how solid he felt beneath my hand. "I'm only joking."

"Uh huh," he said.

"You know," I replied, taking my own drink and swirling it around in front of my mouth while trying to give him a devilish look, "I promise not to tease you about it if you tell me why you're called that."

Richard let out a short bark of a laugh in spite of himself. "We're going to need a lot more alcohol for that."

"Sounds good to me," I said, and it was on.

* * *

"I'm not going to tell you," he said. He'd walked me back to my apartment after the party. The time had passed so quickly and easily talking to him that I was surprised when the partygoers started trickling out the door. Once the alcohol and the conversation started flowing, Richard loosened up enough for us to really start enjoying ourselves. We talked about art, argued about politics, and bragged about a few sexual conquests here and there. On those last points, though, it felt like Richard was always leaving some minor detail out...and although my brain was working hard trying to figure out what the missing thing might be, I still found myself easily charmed by him. He was smart, he was witty, and he had all the good looks of an elf without the good ninety percent of the issues that keep them so stuck up all the time.

And there he was, standing outside my apartment, clearly wanting to come up with me, but for some reason holding himself back.

"Come on," I said, slinking close to him. I tilted my head back and pushed myself up onto the tip of my toes, flicking at his earlobe with my tongue.

"If you tell me something special, I'll tell you something special..." My one hand slipped inside of his coat to rest on his chest, while the other slid down his stomach to the front of his pants...

"Don't-" Richard said, taking my wrist in his hand and stopping me from getting a good grasp of what I wanted. I stepped back and crossed my arms, a little bit tipsy and more than a little annoyed.

"Okay," I said. "What's the deal?"

"There's no deal."

"Are you gay? Are you in a relationship already? Are my tits not big enough for you?"

He sighed, annoyed. "Your tits are great. Really."

"Do you have a small dick? Because I can work with that."

He looked me in the eyes. "That's not the problem." He meant it.

"Then what is, Richard? I've had a fun night with you. I want it to keep going. And clearly you do too, otherwise you wouldn't be standing here. So what is it?"

"Nothing. It's...I..." For a guy who so far had been incredibly confident without pushing his ego down my throat, it was a little bit scary to see how much he was deflating.

"Are you okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned for him.

"Yeah. It's just that I really, really want to go upstairs with you. But I just...don't usually get physical with a girl this fast."

I laughed. "You must have girls knocking your door down with their panties in their hand when you use that line."

"It's not a line," he said. "It's true. I don't get with a girl until I know I can trust her."

"Trust her to what?"

"I don't know," he said. "Not run away?"

Now it was my turn to sigh. "Look, Richard, the allure of the mystery is starting to wear off. This is your last chance to get your cock sucked, so take it or-"

"I've got two dicks," he finally said. He nodded when he saw the look on my face. "Yeah. Some people who know me found out, which is why they call me..." He ran both hands up and down in the air, as if stroking a pair of imaginary penises.

"Dicky Doublefist," I say. "How..."

"My adoptive parents were human," he said. "It's a long story. But they raised me in a human village. A warrior's village. And while the boys were out wrestling and training with sword and bow, I was reading books and reciting poetry to the girls they crushed on. The boys took every opportunity to remind me that I was an elf and not a man, and although I never let them see, it really tore me up inside.

"So when I had the opportunity to make a wish -- another long story -- I wished to be 'twice the man' that any of them would become. And so..."

He gestured down to his crotch, and I almost immediately took his hand.

"What are you-"

"I have to see this," I said, dragging him through the doorway and into my apartment. "Right now."

"Come on, I don't-"

"Right. Now."

There are only two things in my apartment that I care about. The first is my bookshelf. The second is my bed. And although Richard tried to pause to view the contents of the first, I was able to maneuver him to the second so that I could get what I wanted. I figured the guy could look at books any time -- but how often is it that a girl gets to see a dude with two cocks?

"Okay," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, as giddy as a kid waking up on their birthday. "Strip."

He seemed a little bit more at ease inside my place. I guess he was glad to see that I hadn't reacted with disgust. But it was going to take a little more work to get him fully relaxed.

"Okay," he said, slowly pulling his jacket off. I stopped him before he could continue with his shirt.

"Uh uh," I replied, shaking my head. "I don't care about the top. I want to see that meat!"

I may have been a little more than tipsy at that point.

Richard laughed and shook his head, then hooked his thumbs into the top of his pants. He took a deep breath.

"How many girls have honestly turned you down after finding out you have two?" I asked him.

"Uh...well..." he thought hard, but the answer on his face said "zero".

"That's what I thought," I replied, starting to unlace the far-too-complicated-for-drunk-me laces on my boots. "Strip."

"Fine," Richard said. Without any other hesitation, he pulled his pants down to his knees. I could see a sizeable bulge in his underwear, and a whole bunch of saliva flowed to my mouth. The small part of my brain that was not inebriated or captivated with this charming, double-dicked elf tried to remember how long it was since I'd got laid properly. I wasthirsty, and whatever Richard had in his pants was going to take care of what I needed.

The elf pulled his underwear down slowly, jerking it from side to side in a weird little dance, most of his shyness gone and replaced by a bit of goofiness I found endearing. But before I could call out again for a view of his paired sausages, he pulled them down completely and I got to see what he had been worried about.

Even from the first glance, I knew his fears were unfounded. He had two, well-sized members, one right above the other, both of them twitching here and there as they slowly filled up with his lust. They both had that nice thick vein down the center that I like, and both were circumcised in the elven way. The single set of balls hanging beneath the lower one were large, round, and very heavy, and I quickly realized how hungry I was for the fruit of his loins.

"Come here," I said. He obeyed instantly, sensing my need for him. I reached out tenderly and touched his thickening snakes, slowly pulling at them, tugging at them, exploring them, seeing what they were like.

"Gods," I said, looking up at him as he took off his shirt to reveal well-muscled arms and a hard, flat stomach.

"What?" he asked.