Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Rogue Fundamentals (Patreon)

The ambassador’s wife made a face. She held the offending tome between two lavender fingers, as one might hold a dead stirge. “I was hoping,” she said, “For something like Behind the Silken Veil, or at least Elves Are From Castrovel, Tieflings Are From Avernus. Why would you bring an anatomy textbook to the bedroom?”

“Am I to understand that you do not approve of Humanoid Physiology: An Essential Survey?”

“It’s not sexy, Wiz. It’s… anatomical.”

“Think of it as applied mysticism,” replied the mostly nude elf. “I look very forward to applying my arts to you. Speaking of which, that’s a 24 on Arcana.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that I have knowledge of a certain nerve cluster. Just beneath the third vertebra of your tail, in point of fact. With the correct pressure it becomes possible to—”

“Kyhaaaaa!”

“Precisely.”

There was a certain amount of smug wafting off of Wizard. There was an equal amount of erotic disbelief pooling about Thief.

“27 on Acrobatics,” said the latter. And before Wizard could ask how this manifested, her mouth was otherwise preoccupied. Certainly she had not expected the back handspring into leg-lock.

“Untaoo Ecine,” said Wizard.

“How much?”

“Twenty-two Medicine,” said Wizard.

“You’re proficient?”

“Cleric never permits me to practice.”

Yet quite a bit of practice followed. It involved all manner of touch therapy, sensual massage, and the precise manipulation of certain pleasure centers known only to the initiates of the Cellar Doorian elvish healing. Several happy endings were had, but none of them were the end.

“19 Sleight of Hand,” said Thief. And the nipple in question never saw it coming.

“21 Knowledge (profanity),” said Wizard, who began a tirade of dirty talk as unexpected as it was eloquent.

“OK then,” said Thief. “If that’s the way you want to play it I’m pulling out the big guns. 30 even on Thieves Tools.”

“Wait, what?”

“Just lean back and enjoy the comic,” said Thief.