Beer Goggles

I sat in the darkest corner of the tavern, my back to the wall as was my standard procedure.

Well, actually I was two tables away from the darkest corner of the tavern, as that spot was already taken by some pretty mean looking Orsimer, and the next one to it was occupied by a scowling warrior woman and a surly looking kid. But it was still pretty dark.

I was well into my cups as the night wore on, drinking away a bad memory.

“You sure?” the wench asked.

“Damn sure. Hell, bring two. That way I won’t have to bother you again for a while.”

“Okay, but you know you start staggering at two, Wendel,” she quipped. “I’ll put a little more water in them, alright?”

“You do that,” I said to her backside, watching it sashay back to the bar. Belinda was an okay gal, but she was married. Of course, that hadn’t stopped me from a bit of flirting with her a few weeks back when I’d arrived, but it had all been for naught. In fact, she’d told me in no uncertain terms to buckle my pants back up.

Somehow, even with my rugged face and humorous banter, I’d never been lucky at love. Not that I really cared. My life as an adventurer provided far more pleasure than any brief fling with a member of the opposite sex ever would have. Probably. I didn’t really know for certain. But probably.

My last adventure had nearly cost me my life, in fact. I had been attacked by no less than three tremendous beasts that I had tracked deep into their lair. Fortunately my swordsmanship and amazing dexterity had proven more than a match. I might have quailed, just a bit, at the sight of their malevolent, sharp teeth, but I was not one to hold back. After a long, hard-fought battle I emerged as the only one alive.

Belinda returned with a tray, setting both mugs down with a flourish. I didn’t fail to notice her breasts swelling from the white Chemise under the laced bodice, but I looked away after she slapped my cheek.

“Hey, that was pretty hard!” I commented, rubbing my bruised, manly face.

Belinda sat beside me - an unprecedented move - as I began to swill from one of the mugs of light watered beer. I looked up from my tankard in surprise.

“Wendel, any closer and you might as well be nursing me. Try to control yourself, okay?”

I apologized reluctantly. “Sorry.”

“Wendel, what’s wrong?”

“You mean other than my non-existent love life?” I asked, sulking.

“Well, yeah. Other than that. Didn’t you have a job for Farmer Green over in Morrow today?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, taking another big swig. Belinda was still sitting beside me when the coughing stopped.

“What then? Did you kill the rabbits that were eating his vegetables?”

“Hell yes!” I said, turning to stare daggers of anger and menace at her eyes. At least that was my intent. Her hand under my chin brought my gaze up from where it had landed to her face.

“Up here, Romeo,” she said. “So, what then? Didn’t he pay you?”

“Sure did. How do you think I’m paying for this?!” I shot back with keen witted sarcasm.

“What then? Oh… wait. He has a daughter, doesn’t he?”

I closed my eyes, shutting out the memory, but her damn voice continued unabated.

“You didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t whip it out,” I replied. “I just asked if she wanted to go out with me!”

“Oh. I see,” Belinda said, putting a soft, warm hand on my back. It may have been the first woman’s touch I had felt since my mother’s.

“And she said no?”

I could hold back the tears no longer. I looked longingly into Belinda’s cleavage.

“She laughed at me.”

Again, the wench redirected my focus.

“But you killed those rabbits, right? That’s something.”

I nodded as she rose and patted my back again. As emotionally wrecked as I had become, I still didn’t fail to watch her walk back through bleary eyes. I saw her speaking with a man at the bar who turned to look at me. They were probably laughing at me. I downed the first half of my beer.

Goddammit. And, considering that she hadn’t filed charges against me during that pants-incident, I’d always thought of Belinda as a friend, too.

The man rose and left the tavern, and all returned to normal. An hour passed and I was well into my fourth mug, feeling a little tipsy, when the door opened.

What walked into the tavern was nothing less than an angel - a vision, the likes of which I had only dreamed of in my rather fertile imagination. She was a Khajiit, dark yellow and verging on orange. As for clothing, she had no need. She had been endowed with thick, white patches of fur over her shorter yellow fur, that banded her arms and legs as well as her breasts, covering her privates as if nature herself had bestowed the most fitting clothing imaginable. She was radiant. A feline goddess.

She sat at the bar, and immediately a man beside her engaged her in conversation. A beer was brought to her by the bartender and she thanked the man who paid for it. She spun around on her swiveled bar stool and downed the tall mug in a single draw, banging it down against the bar as she completed her revolution.

Here, at last, was a woman that was a match for me! I heard her demand another in her dulcet, catlike screech, and the man beside her reluctantly fished for more coins from his pocket.

This routine was repeated twice more until the man beside her shook his head at the bartender and stood up to leave.

“Hey! Come back misther!” the Vision called to him as he waved her off. “I wanna other one!”

This was my opportunity. I took another shot of courage, accidentally spilling a large portion of it down my shirt, and rose from my chair, striding confidently to the bar.

Unfortunately, so was one of the Orsimers from the dark corner. I wouldn’t say he pushed me out of the way. It was more like I bumped into a concrete, moving wall of muscle.

“Pardon me,” he said to the Khajiit Goddess, sitting in my destined seat.

I slid to the side, pretending to have to go to the lavatory. I pissed angrily though, and I emerged more keen than ever to displace the gargantuan green interloper. As I passed the pair, though, I saw she had obtained a refilled mug and was downing it with gusto. Her large clawed hand rested on the Orsimer’s thigh, so I returned to my seat and quaffed the remainder of my watered down beer.

“After all,” I figured, “If the guy bought her a drink, it would be rude of me to intrude.”

I flagged down Belinda and ordered another.

“Five, Wendel? Really?” the woman asked incredulously.

“Dammit, yes! Give me a goddamned beer!”

“Okay. Your hangover,” she complied and turned to go.

“Um… Belinda? Maybe a little extra water?”

“You got it, champ,” she said.

She may have had a point. The room was spinning just a bit. I turned back to the bar, but both my Goddess and the Orsimer were nowhere to be seen! I turned to look around the bar, but they were gone. My heart sank.

Belinda returned with another mug and I began to cry to her.

“She was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen!”

“Who? The farmer’s daughter?”

“You don’t understand. Nobody understands. I let her slip away! My Goddess!”

“She’s not that pretty,” the idiot barmaid said.

“No! Not the farmer’s daughter. She was right there!” I explained, indicating the spot that had so recently held the precious bottom of Her Whom I Worship.

“Oh really? Her?” the barmaid said, a huge smile coming over her face.

I sputtered into my beer. “A moment ago she was right there. Oh cruel life! Why must you torment me so?”

“Wendel, she’s from Madame Florentine’s,” Belinda said, as if that explained anything.

Still, my eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned. Not that I had a clue who Madame Florentine was, but the more important fact…

“You know her?!”

Belinda gave me an odd look. “Well, sort of. She comes in here when things are slow over there sometimes.”

I rose from my chair and strode over to Her seat, leaving Belinda to pick up the empty beers while I carried the fresh one with me. The floor seemed to lurch like a ship on rough seas, but I managed to approach the sacred place where she had so recently sat. I took the seat beside her Throne. It would be like sacrilege to actually sit at the same place as Her.

I couldn’t help myself. I touched the stool beside me. Still warm from her delicate touch! I bent over - just to get a closer look at the cushion. Suddenly a slap awoke me from my reverie.

“Damn you’re weird,” Belinda said as I sat back up, rubbing the cheek again. I tried to explain to her that it wasn’t what it looked like, but she was already gone.

Then I noticed the empty mug. Her lips had touched this very pewter! Well, at the rate she’d been downing it, maybe not - but they had been close anyway. I slid it over in front of me and looked within. Empty. But a heavenly scent seemed to hover around the Holy Cup, just behind that of stale beer - her very breath!

I was just about to breathe deeply from it’s depths when a movement near the lavatories caught my eye. It was them! Oddly, they seemed to both emerge from the Men’s room, but my current vision was less than reliable.

As they rounded the bar, I was ready. This time I was going to confront the Orsimer no matter what. I was not going to let my Beauty get away without at least speaking with her, beating or no beating!

Yet, surprisingly, the Orsimer continued walking towards the door, a smile on his face as he handed my Queen a golden token.

“Thanks kitty!” he said, and continued towards the door, but I had lost all interest in him. She was here, right beside me now, and she ordered another drink from the bartender, proffering the gold coin.

Suddenly I was tongue-tied. My mind went blank. She was so close, but despite my penchant for light talk and banter with women, I was mute! It may have been my imagination, but I felt the radiant heat from her body, so close now to my own.

“Hey!” she said, turning to me. Her voice may have been somewhat slurred, but to me it was as if heaven itself had opened up it’s choir. “Whachername?”

I began to tremble. I froze! Worse than mute, I couldn’t even turn to face her!

“Suture self”, she shrugged and spun around to face the room.

“Wendel,” I squeaked, barely audible.

She turned back to look at me over her shoulder, and I finally managed to face her directly. My eyes were dying to stray to other parts, but in front of this Vision I could not allow my baser instincts free rein! I took a quick draught to buoy my courage before responding.

“Wendel. My name is Wendel!”

“Oh! It talkths! Well, pleathed to meetcha Wendel…”

Suddenly her eyes went wide for some reason. She was perhaps somewhat inebriated by that point, so she hadn’t really noticed my awesome chiseled features until then.

“Wait! You are Wendel?”

I shook my head, proudly.

“Oh! Yer my mark! I was subbosed to find you. Hey, I’m Katia!”

“Me?” I asked, not understanding.

“Sorry, I forgotted. Say Wen…” at that point she had to burp, rather loudly and long, “…del, are you really a virgin?”

This time it was my turn for the wide-eyes treatment. “No… No no no. You must be confusing me with some other…”

“Oh, cmon. don’t be shy,” she said, leaning in close. Her breath smelled of beer and something else, but I didn’t much care. I felt her wrap her arm around my shoulders as if in confidence. “Don’t tell anybuddy, but I was once a virgin too!”

“No. You?!” I said, not quite understanding what we were talking about but eager to have something in common with this gorgeous Khajiit woman.”

“Strue! Pretty much everbuddy schtarts out like that,” she said as if imparting some secret wisdom of the ages. She lowered her head until it touched my own and I felt giddy. “Hey! Know how I lost it?” she said.

I shook my head, still connected to hers as if we were part of a secret conspiracy.

“Damn. I was hoping you could tell me,” she said and started laughing as she turned back to the bar and her mug.

I took the respite to take another long pull from my own, laughing along with her, though I wasn’t really sure why. But I really didn’t care. I was in heaven. To think that this divine creature and I were sitting here, laughing and having a conversation together was more than I could have dreamed!

“I... um... like your fur,” I admitted, hoping not to seem too forward.

“Oh, you mean these?” she asked, brushing the thick white fur that covered her most intimate areas. Then she shocked me as she peeled one off. “They’re just stick-ons. They don’t stick on fur very good though. Made for human skin. Maybe I’ll try paint instead someday.”

She put the faux-fur strip back over herself.

“Whoa. You alright? You're redder than a Redguard!”

“Ehhh. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

I returned from a quick trip to the lavatory to clean myself up. Happily she was still sitting at the bar, resting her head on it. She peeled her face off it as I returned.

I sat back beside her, trying my best to put the sight I’d just seen out of my head.

“So, you like my furclothes?” she asked between quaffs, “It’s pretty sexy, doncha think? Subbosed to be a Harvest Festival costume.”

I just nodded, trying to think of my grandmother.

She began to talk about herself then, and I managed to nod at the appropriate times, but it was taking far too long to get my mind off of her body.

Then she sat up and looked at me, her lids lowered. The voice that came from her lips was sultry and seductive.

“I…” she started.

My eyes must have grown to the size of saucers, dreaming of the words I felt sure were about to fall from her lips.

She sat looking at me longingly. What did fall from her lips was a bit of drool. It spattered on her breast.

“Yes?!” I said, with bated breath, apprehensive that what I saw in her lidded eyes might be just what I felt at that moment too! It was as if the Fates had brought us two together, at just this time and place. The moment was nigh! Perhaps, at long last, I had found my True Love!

“...think I drank too much,” she finally said, and her eyes closed.

She slumped there for a moment, balanced precariously atop the barstool, before the inevitable fall to the floor. I managed to catch her as she fell. However, her sudden, full weight was more than I was prepared to accept and she landed directly atop me, bruising my lip in the process.

Dare I admit that having that gorgeous body laying atop my own was paradise? Can I not concede that the reality was even better than my wildest dreams? I stroked her furred back, running my fingers over her natural fur, and the odd tufts of fake white fur that served as her clothing.

“Katia?” I said, jostling her a bit. “Katia? Wake up!”

I looked over her shoulder and saw Belinda hovering over us.

“You all right?” she asked me.

“I think she might have passed out!” I said, turning to look at the face so near to my own. “Katia?”

The eyes opened ever so slightly and she pulled away from me.

“Wendel… I'm sorry but...” she said and I felt her move atop me.

The movement was more of a heaving motion. I cannot say what happened next was totally unexpected. Nor can I say that what expelled from that feline mouth was the most delightful ambrosia of the gods. She arched over me, now truly catlike, and heaved again. I closed my eyes against the inevitable as I became inundated with beer and bile alike. It was a truly unpleasant experience, but I shared it with Her so it was alright. Just as I thought it was over, that lovely body heaved again and another outpouring from her hit me.

Finally it subsided, and she sat back, cross-legged on the floor and looking at me without focus. Belinda and quite a few patrons were just laughing, but the barmaid handed me and Katia a couple of nice, large towels anyway, which we took gratefully.

A few minutes later I had Katia’s arm over my shoulder as we swayed down the street, singing a song that neither of us could remember the words to. She had become at least somewhat more lucid after she had relieved herself of excess drink, and had insisted I take her back to my place for the remainder of the evening. Who was I to quibble with a goddess, drunk or not? We staggered into my small apartment - really little more than a single room with an adjoining bathroom - still laughing and singing bits from the last song we’d almost remembered.

We both had to use the restroom and argued over who needed it worse. In the end, it turned out that it actually is possible for both a guy and a girl to use a toilet at the same time as Katia had suggested! You just have to be very careful. Or drunk enough not to care too much.

The rest of the night, I truly can’t remember. I know we slept together because we awoke in my single bed, practically piled on top of each other. To say that neither of us were in our best condition at that point should be understood. In the cold light of morning, she looked considerably different that I'd recalled from the previous night. Though it's surely hypocritical of me to say it, her breath was... not wonderful at all. However, she assured me that I’d been nothing less than a gentleman, which I was rather proud of. Yet she saw it as a failure, somehow. She offered me a raincheck, though, before she kissed my cheek and left.

Now, as I write these words, I realize a lot that I didn’t see last night, or even this morning in my hungover state. I need to thank Belinda, I suppose - though why she thought I would need that kind of ‘company’, I really don’t know. With my dashing charm, I need no paid-for love! But I’ll probably go ahead and ask her where Madame Florentine’s is. After all, I have a raincheck to cash.