INNOCENCE
by Soledad
Disclaimer:
Not mine, all Tolkien's, save the typos and the weird grammar.
And the plot, of course, in case you can find one. I failed.
Rating: NC-17. Definitely!
Warning: No plot, pure sweet smut. Married Elven couple - both males! But since I don't intend to post it publicly (except here, on my own website), it doesn't really matter, right?
Author's notes:
(really unnecessary, but since I'm so fond of them...)
This scene has absolutely no significance whatsoever for my other stories. None. It has been inspired by Elizabeth Wyeth's sweet sketch about Lindir and Erestor in bed, even if they won't reach a bed in this one. I was frustrated with my other stuff, with stupid reviews and with life in general, and I wanted my tortured characters to have some fun. Period.
Yes, it's a PWP, if you've ever seen one. Yes, it's rather smutty. Erm... try graphic? But I hope, it's at least sweet. Sweet, pointless smut.
So. You have been properly warned. If you're still with me, it's your own responsibility (and enjoyment, I hope). Now, let's go to business before the notes become longer than the scene itself!
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Interlude: A Sweet Scene Without A Plot
[In a time during the Third Age, before the re-discovery of the One Ring]
It happened rarely that Erestor would have been packed by raw desire for his beloved spouse. Their married life was defined by gentle acceptance, deep emotional love and qiuet, slow burning passion - from both sides. They could go on for moons, even years, expressing their love by soft touches and chaste kisses only; or by long hours, spent in companionable silence under the trees, above one of the waterfalls or before the fireplace.
Then came moments, however rare they were, when the mere presence of Lindir caused a hungry fire pooling in Erestor's belly, all of a sudden. Just like in this very morning. And, of course, it had to happen in Elrond's study, of all places!
Erestor was going through the annual inventories' list, for they were approaching the end of the loa once again, when Lindir came in, bringing some messages sent from Lothlórien by winged messengers. As usual, he was clad in a short tunic and form-fitting leggings (for he disliked the heavy robes customary for the family of Elrond when at home), and his unbraided, pale golden hair framed his face like a long silken curtain.
Once again, Erestor was hit by the delicate beauty of his spouse: the gentle sweep of those long legs, the elegant line of that narrow back, the strangely arousing vulnerability of that beautiful face. And when Lindir leaned forward to place the parchments in the small mithril box on Elrond's desk, standing there for that explicit reason, the sweet curve of his backside became Erestor's undoing.
As if they had a will of their own, his hands slid along the slender thighs with agonizing slowness, cupping and squeezing the perfect twin globes; then one hand sneaked around a slim hip, to seek out and fondle the swiftly growing bulge through the thin cloth of Lindir's leggigns. The younger Elf gave a ragged sigh, rubbing himself against the hungry hands of his spouse, his sea-hued eyes clouding over dreamily. He loved the rare occasions when Erestor got into this mood - the heated, slightly rough lovemaking, that usually followed, was the exotic spice in their love life.
He had one objection, though.
''Wait, love!'', he murmured, barely able to control the shaking of his voice. ''I think not we should do this on our Lord's desk...''
Fortunately, Erestor was not gone so far yet that he would not listen to reason. Besides, he would have been the one to take the inventories again, had their ruined the long, carefully-penned lists. So he rose from his seat, and after a moment of consideration they went over to an adjoining chamber, where the used bedclothes of the guest rooms were waiting, hastily folded, upon a broad table to be brought to the laundry on the next day.
Lindir leaned against the edge of the table and let his head fell back in bliss whle Erestor's trembling fingers worked on the lacings of his leggings, pulling impatiently on the silk cords, til the flap was finally open. Grasping inside, he pulled the slender arrow of his beloved free, not even bothering with pushing the annoying piece of clothing down the long legs, and for a moment held it in his hand admiringly. Lindir's elfhood was pale, almost opaque, like the rest of his flawless body, already throbbing with need, and the small sack below it like a delicate doeskin purse. No matter how familiar they were with each other, he could never cease to admire his beloved's beauty. Nor could he cease to wonder what had made this perfect creature choosing him in the first place.
Lindir tugged on his sleeve impatiently, and Erestor shook off his never-ceasing astonishment, considering the possibilities. Then, not being able to restrain himself any more, he simply fell to his knees and took the delicate member in his mouth, sucking gently and stroking it with his tongue, while his fingers stroked that small doeskin purse, rolling the hard little balls in it gently between his fingertips. Lindir moaned qiuetly, hips thrusting forward in abandon, instinctively trying to get deeper into that hot, wet, maddeningly talented mouth. All too soon he went over thge edge, and Erestor drank his sweet essence hungrily, licking him clean afterwards.
Then he rose to his feet again, giddy with his own, almost painful need.
''Turn over, love, and bend a little for me'', he asked hoarsely, finally pulling down those leggings all the way til Lindir's ankles. The younger Elf obediently bent over the low table loaded with the bedcloths, spreading his legs as wide as he could with the leggigns around his ankles, to give his spouse better access to the most private parts of his body.
He was generously rewarded for his eagerness, when Erestor kneeled again and began kissing and licking and nibbling his way down the small of his back, burying his face between the smooth cheeks and sucking on the small entrance hidden there, thrusting his tongue through the guardian muscle, in order to make is slick and loose for his saliva-slicked fingers first, then for his throbbing and leaking member, already coloured deep purple with desperate need.
When he felt his beloved turning completely limp under his ministrations, Erestor rose again, opening the soft cheeks with a firm hand, guiding with the other one his turgid member, and sheated himself in the hot tightness of his spouse with one slow, powerful thrust. Lindir cried out, but not in pain, for Erestor hit his pleasure spot unerringly, and grabbed the rand of the table to prepare himself for the sweet onslaught that he knew was about to come.
Erestor held his hips with bruising force and rode him swiftly and hard, with powerful thrusts. Seldom did he take his beloved in this rough and manner, but Lindir liked it occasionally, even though they both preferred their usual slow, gentle style for the long run. And the wanton moaning and writhing of his spouse in these rare occasions was always enough to drive him mad.
Finally, he spent himself into the willing body of his bondmate and collapsed against Lindir's slim, sweat-covered back, kissing the tender spot where the neckline met the shoulder gratefully.
''Oh, dear one, how madly I love you! You are everything I need... everything I shall ever want...''
''Truly?'', Lindir murmured, muffled by the bedclothes his face was buried in. ''Wait til this eve... I believe I would like to return the favour - and you might get a lot more than you probably want.''
''Is that a threat or a promise?'', Erestor teased, regretfully disengaging himself from Lindir's prone body. Duty called; he already had been suspiciously long away from his work.
''You will find out soon enough'', the younger Elf gave no sign that he would rose from the table; ''if I can ever get up from here, that is.''
''I shall take your word for it'', Erestor rearranged his clothes and gave the bare butt of his love a sound but affectionate slap, so that Lindir yelped and leapt to his feat at once. ''But alas, I have to get over those inentory lists first.''
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There you have it! No plot, no significance, and I even used
that heavily frowned-upon word ''elfhood''. What can I do? I like
the word. When madness overwhelms me next time, I might even do
something with the Erogenous elven Ear. So shoot me!
I've tried to insert the picture that served me as inspireation.
However, the site trends to refuse showing my illustrations, so forgive me if it happens again.