Carandol the Novice
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,085
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,085
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 4
I do love your feedbac
MGC - Hole in one...as it were...
Minuial Nuwing - thanks for reviewing again...your wonderful comments make me blush...everywhere...
Azure Dragoness - hope you'll recover soon!
Sebastian
Carandol The Novice 4/?
Sequel to Carandol the Matchmaker
Author: Sebastian
Email: sebastian.s@btinternet.com
Archive: AdultFanFiction.net. OEAM, Anyone else, just let me know where it is.
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: Carandol (OMC)/Legolas, Thranduil/???, Elladan & Elrohir/Lindir & most of the Elves of Mirkwood.
Genre: Fictional Person Slash. Humour
Warnings: AU, sex, bad language, more sex…even worse language……..
Summary: Carandol has been sent to Mirkwood to improve his…er… skills. Can he survive the spiders, the orcs, and, more to the point, can he survive the Mirkwood Cadet Corps?!
Timeline: Third Age, before the Fellowship.
Disclaimer: I only own Carandol and his machinations. Tolkien’s estate owns everything else. No infringement of copyright is intended. I bow to the master. This offering is written purely for fun and no profit is being made. Sigh…
Translations:
Beleg bróg- great bear
Filegluin - small blue bird
Anghathel – iron broadsword
Chapter 4: The dangers of horticulture and humping on a basket.
I wake up, stretch and wince.
“Hello, my sweet. The morning is now past its best,” Legolas greets me and leans over for a kiss.
So is my bum. I squirm a bit in discomfort.
“Are you well, my love?” Legolas asks, and grins.
How can he grin like that when it’s all his fault…
“Apart from aching leg muscles, a dick that emptied itself so hard it feels like it’s been through a mangle, and an arse that thinks it’s been scraped with sandpaper……I’m fine!”
“Oh good, I’m glad you’ve recovered!” he laughs. “It gets better,” he adds, reassuringly.
“It’ll have to, or our sex life is going to be as disappointing as Tom Bombadill and his poetry…”
“Do you mean persistent and always ready for repeat performances?” asks Legolas, and leers.
“No.”
He tries again. “Then you must mean… very long,” he says, and sheesheets start to undulate up and down.
“Not quite, my rampant prince,” I answer, trying to ignore his innuendos. “ActualIy, I meant…boring.”
“Then roll over…and I’ll show you what…boring… really means!”
Legolas pushes the sheets away and I look at his ever-ready erection in apprehension.
“Come, Carandol, here’s something I prepared earlier…” And he fingers his elongated penis in hopeful anticipation.
Elbereth…if I want to be able to walk anytime soon I’m going to have to perfect my Legolas deterrent…
Then he rubs his cock against me and leaves a trail of precum on my thigh.
…and I’d better do it soon!
“Gods, Legolas…haven’t you ever had enough?”
“Of you…no,” he says simply.
I suppose I would be touched if I wasn’t so tender, so I roll over… and out of the bed.
“You’re not going to leave me like this?” asks Legolas, with his well-rehearsed pout. “Hard and dripping and…”
Unusually, I don’t have that problem this morning; my prick has already poked his neck out, taken one look at Legolas’ wet and purple swelling, cringed in disbelief and settled back into his little coccoon.
“Yes,” I say, totally indifferent to his predicament. “I want to bathe and soak my bottom.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my sore little Carandol,” and he gives me such a sympathetic expression I feel like I’m taking sweeties from an elfling.
I succumb. “But…perhaps, while we’re in there…I could…” and I wipe my tongue over my lips and smile at him, salaciously. “It would be slightly more exciting than a quick wank.”
And almost before I’ve finished talking, he’s dragged me into
his washroom and we don’t come out again until my throat has taken pity on him several times over.
* * *
I spend the rest of the day mooning around.
And, no, I don’t mean pulling my leggings down and showing my arse off!
Legolas says he has some affairs of state to discuss with his father, but I suspect that they’ll just be swapping lewd stories and I start thinking of the twins again.
Around dinner time, Legolas catches up with me as I’m heading towards the dining room.
“I missed you,” he says as he embraces me.
“I don’t know how,” I say, looking down at his distended leggings with a smirk, “it’s pointing directly at me… again.”
He chuckles and tightens his hold.
“Legolas, I need to know what’s happening?”
“Well…we’re close…I’m getting excited…and you’re…er…”
Yes, alright, so I’m much recovered and now I’ve got a stiffie…but don’t change the subject.
“Never mind that,” I say, and pull away a bit. “Legolas, I want to know what’s going on, in the palace. They’ve been off-loading barrels for the last half hour, and I know Lindir spotted another delivery the other day.”
“Oh, that. Ada’s having a do tomorrow night, to welcome the midsummer solstice,” he answers.
Hmm…I’d heard Thranduil was famous for his magnificent balls……
“Haven’t you heard the gossip?” asks the prince, nuzzling at my hair.
“Gossip, what gossip?” I ask, turning my head away to try and focus. But then I realise that being clueless seems to be a habit with me lately.
“Poor Carandol, you’ve been a bit out of action, haven’t you?” Legolas says, and grips my hips to rub against me.
Well, you seem to have found everything in working order.
He moves back and looks at me. “Are you a bit down in the mouth, my love?”
I thought you liked it like that…
“No…no…just a bit bewildered. So, who’s coming?” I say, trying to bring myself back to the subject as Legolas leans in and sucks my neck.
He pulls away. “Some of the Galadhrim will be there, but a few of them will be going to Imladris. Lord Elrond is also having a ball.”
Yes, well, he was certainly enjoying himself the last time I saw him! I hope they can keep their mouths shut…some of the time, anyway.
“Is it just drinking, then?” I ask, never having attended one of Thranduil’s famous festivities.
Legolas stops as he’s about to nibble my ear.
“No, there’ll be all sorts of entertainments…” he says, then pulls at my earlobe with his lips. “And the cadets have got time off to prepare and help out with the arrangements.”
I want to know more. “What sort of entertainments?”
“Dancing…” he brushes his soft mouth across my cheek and flicks his tongue across the edge of my lips.
“Music…” The tongue moves down my neck and he nibbles the skin gently.
“A pageant…like a sort of play…” he moves up to my ear and runs his tongue around the outside.
“And…sex…” and the tongue moves into my ear and he blows warm breath into it then sucks on the tip.
I tremble and whimper and moan and… wait a minute…
“Sex?” I ask, croakily, pulling back. “What do you mean…sex?”
“You know…that stuff we did this morning…” He leers and then grabs hold of the lump under my tunic. “And there’ll be lots of it…so we’d better practice…” he says and pushes himself against me and devours my mouth.
Oh well, education is never wasted.
* * *
I watch the twins and Thranduil closely throughout dinner as they laugh and joke and look thoroughly relaxed with each other. Nauseating.
I catch up with the twins afterwards as they are leaving the dining hall.
“So, what were you two doing at the king’s private pool?” and I try not to sound too confrontational.
“Having fun,”says Elrohir.
And who else were you having…?
“The king invited us,” says Elladan.
“Both of you?” I ask.
“Yes. He said he needed two and he’d never done it with twins before,” says Elrohir.
“And we wanted to practice,” adds Elladan.
“Practice? You two?” I ask, incredulously. “What about Lindir?”
“He was invited but he wasn’t really interested. Said he’d rather amuse himself with his latest.”
“….er…”
“Called Beleg Bróg,” explains Elladan.
I don’t know anyone called Belegbróg… But I suppose if the twins are fooling around with Thranduil, I don’t blame him. Pity though, they fitted together so well…
“You should join us,” invites Elrohir, coming a bit nearer, and I take a nervous look around me to see if anyone is watching.
“You’d be good at it,” adds Elladan, also approaching.
Why do they always make me feel like I’m some sort of gastronomic delicacy?
“But perhaps you’d rather watch,” says Elrohir, and starts to stroke my face.
Don’t play with your food.
“Watch?” I say, and bend away from him.
“Yes,” sayladaladan, you saw us doing it in Imladris, although that was purely for fun, and only intended for a few.”
My mouth opens in shock. Gods…poor Lindir. I wonder if he knows he’s just their toy? Or doesn’t he care?
“But we got the taste for it, so when Thranduil suggested we join him, we jumped at the chance,” explains Elrohir.
“He’s so experienced,” states Elladan, in admiration.
“And we’ve learnt a lot,” adds Elrohir.
And my mouth is now catching flies…
Now you know I’m not an introvert… you can’t be when your bum is an extrovert and has discovered a new method of getting skid marks on the sheets!
But this blatant assessment of Thranduil’s sexual prowess is… …oh, alright, it’s fascinating… but what about Lindir and…
“We need to practice more, though, we haven’t got it quite right
yet,” says Elladan. “There’s a rhythm to these things and it takes a while to perfect it. You really should consider doing it with us, I’m sure Legolas would like to see you perform…”
“Oh no, there is no way…”
Hang on a bit…Legolas would like to watch me? Surely not, not with another elf, or several.
“Or perhaps we should ask the lovely Legolas himself,” muses Elrohir. “He’d be able to get some more implements. Thranduil keeps quite a stock, but Legolas may have some things we haven’t thought of.”
I don’t want to hear this…Wait a minute, yes I do!
“Um…what do mean…implements?” I ask, naively.
“You know, tools of the trade…props and such,” says Elladan, and I’m none the wiser.
“Thranduil does this amazing thing with a re big big leather scabbard. He puts his…”
“Yes, yes, I can imagine!” I say, hurriedly.
“Oh, sorry, we won’t spoil it for you then. I’m sure he would rather you saw it first-hand, anyway.” says Elrohir.
Oh Eru!…And he was so polite at the pool!
“And don’t worry about Legolas. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself,” says Elladan. “I’m sure he’s used to it by now. After all, he’s done it several times before.”
Well, I know he’s had lots of lovers before me…but…not all at the same time surely…?
I’m out of my depth here.
“You have got to see Thranduil in a dress…!” says Elrohir, laughing.
I can’t listen to any more of this. Robes are one thing, but cross-dressing elves shagging each other…no…this is too bizarre.
“If you change your mind, we’ll be doing it for the last time tonight,” says Elrohir, “that’ll still give you enough time to learn a few things.”
“Why stop tonight?” I ask.
“Because it’s the ball tomorrow, and we’ll all be doing it together then,” answers Elladan.
“Our public awaits,” says Elrohir, with a giggle.
Then they both lean in and give me two soft kisses on either side of my mouth.
Gods, its going to be an orgy!
I feel sick.
I don’t want to share him…not my Legolas.
But then he did specifically mention sex at the ball. Why would he do that if not… Was it a warning?
* * *
I return to the barracks in deep thought and very distracted.
Lindir is sitting on his cot practising his music and a few pairs of cadets are cavorting around the spaces between the beds.
I sit down next to Lindir.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“What’s it look like?” asks Anghathel.
“I’d rather not say,” I answer with a smirk.
Anghathel turns back to his partner. “Look, I’m not going to be the she-elf, and that’s final!”
“So, he’s not a bottom after all,” I whisper to Lindir, as I watch the big elf arguing with Filegluin.
“I don’t blame him, after what he’s been through. His steps have been a little…er…stilted,” he says and gives me a saucy smile.
I look back to the dancers… and I use that term loosely. Actually, its beginning to look like a rather eccentric version of unarmed combat. I turn to Lindir.
“So why the sudden interest in…er…well…what looks like the Mordor Manoeuvre?”
Lindir laughs. “I couldn’t tell you, they’ve all looked the same. Could be the Orc’s Excuse-Me for all I know. And I’m sure they haven’t a clue either,” says Lindir with a shrug. “Gildor suggested that they practice some of the finer points of court etiquette, including dancing. He should have saved his breath.”
“From what I hear, the finer ps ofs of court etiquette involves exercise of a different sort.” I snort, then remember why I wanted to see Lindir.
“How is Belegbróg?” I ask, actually wanting to ask him about the twins.
“Not bad, although, I still need to perfect my fingering.”
“So, its got that far then?” I ask, with regret.
“Of course. It’s working out better than I hoped. We had a go at it this morning just to make sure we were ready to do it in public.”
I know that Lindir likes group sex, but…in public?
Lindir puts his harp aside and smiles broadly. “So, how are you Carandol? We haven’t seen you for a while. Have you recovered?”
“No… I’ve been with Legolas. Look, we need to talk,” I say.
“About Legolas?”
“No, about the twins.”
“Mmmm, two of my favourite subjects,” he says, and grins. “They’ve been a bit occupied lately, though.”
“I know. Do you know where they’ve been?”
“Oh, yes. They told me all about it. They asked me to join them, but it’s not really my thing.”
Has everyone gone mad…or is it just me?
And then Filegluin calls from across the dorm, “Lindir…can you play that last tune again, we want to have a go at the Balrog Shuffle.”
* * *
I decide I need to wander off on my own and take a walk around the gardens to get some air and some sanity back. There’s a lot of activity in the palace caves and elves have begun arriving for the festival. Not feeling in the mood to talk pleasantries, and being a beautiful evening, I wander towards a small group of trees and decide to lurk.
While there I’m caught short, so instead of returning to the caves,
I stand behind one of the trees and aim my todger at a large rose bush. I am interrupted in mid-pee by a rather disdainful voice.
“Doesn’t Thranduil prefer to water the plants normally,” the voice asks.
“He’s fond of his flowers; I’m exterminating the greenfly.”
“Landscape artist, eh? Or…”
“Piss artist?” I retort.
I shake, tuck and turn.
The elf making ruderude enquiry is standing behind me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I run an eye over his silver-blonde hair, muscular frame and eyes which bore into me with scornful curiosity.
“I am Carandol. By appointment to His Royal Highness, I fertilize his majesty’s sapling and enlarge the prince’s root stock.” I bow with a flourish.
The smirk gradually turns into a grin.
“And what do you do with the rest of your time?” asks the lovely stranger.
“Get rid of pests!”
I turn abruptly and walk away, but hear him stride after me.
“Wait, my young gardener,” he says, grabbing hold of my elbow and pulling me to a stop. “I’m sorry if I rubbed you up the wrong way.”
I shake my arm free. “I wouldn’t want you that close. And I’m not used to being caught with my dick out like that.”
His eyes twinkle as he takes a step closer. “But you must be used to comments, if you’re in the habit of waving it about in the garden.”
“You make me sound like some sort of pervert,” I say, irritated.
“No, just careless,” he answers.
I thought my aim was quite accurate…
“Now, I come from a place where you’d feel quite at home exposing yourself amongst the trees.”
“You must be from Lothlórien, then,” I remark. “I always wondered what fertiliser made the mallorn grow so tall!”
I start to walk back to the palace caves again ae foe follows. I know he’s watching my arse, so I give him a wiggle, just to let him know what he can’t have.
Then I realise my mistake when I feel his hand rubbing my backside and he gives a deep and fruity chuckle. I leap out of his reach and squeak.
“My, my, Carandol. So jumpy?”
“Hands off. I’m taken,” I say, stupidly.
“So am I. With you.”
I move further away from him. “What’s your name, so I know who toid oid in future?”
“Haldir.”
* * *
“Carandol…are you alright? You look a bit flushed,” Legolas asks as I enter the palace.
“Yes. But I’m worried…about the ball. Please tell me its not what I think?”
“And what do you think?”
“Everyone seems to be preparing themselves for a night of public debauchery.”
“I do hope so,” Legolas answers, and I feel the colour leave my cheeks.
“Even the strange elf I met in the garden took the liberty of feeling me up.”
“What elf? Where?”
“Haldir. He grabbed me by the Sweet Williams.”
Hmmm…!
“Very apt, Carandol, considering he likes to deflower young elves. I didn’t think he’d be able to resist one of Ada’s little amusements.”
Now you’re confusing me with the twins.
“Legolas, talk to me…please?”
He sighs. “Carandol, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, desperate to…see you…and now you want me to talk? Look, I’m going to be busy for the rest of the evening so I haven’t got long and I need… “
He looks around then pulls me into a small room and pushes me towards a very large wicker storage chest.
“Legolas…can’t this wait?”
“Not any more,” he says, “I’ve been carrying this around all day,” and he presses my hand against the large swelling in his groin.
“But...”
“Fast and furious has its own charm, my sweet.”
“Yes…but…”
“No more questions. No more quick gropes in the hallway…I want you now. There’ll be time for a long slow one later.”
He stands in front of me and pulls at my laces.
“Right now, I just want to screw the arse off you.”
There’s no need to wrap it up in flowery language… just give it to me straight…!
He turns me round and pushes me face down over the chest and places a hand on the small of my back to indicate that I should stay there.
O.K…so rectilinear it is…
“Legolas…?!” I say, trying to get some surprise in my voice but I giggle and ruin the effect, and all thoughts of tomorrow vanish from my mind.
Frankly, his urgent need for me is so thrilling and such a turn on that I’m now impatient to be taken quickly. I can smell the deep aroma of desire on him and sense that nothing will stop him from getting what he is so desperate for.
He swiftly yanks my leggings down to my knees which means I can’t open my legs very wide. Then I hear him open his leggings and the satisfied moan as he pulls out his prick.
He rubs his hands over my bottom and spreads my buttocks wide. The sensation of him forcing my cheeks so far apart makes me shudder with need as the cooler air whispers over my hot little tunnel. I am totally exposed to him, wide open and eager, and completely at his mercy. Then I feel him bend down and spit a few times over my arse and a liberal quantity of saliva drips down my crack.
His breathing is heavy and fast as he pushes two wet fingers into my entrance and moves them around hastily, pulling at my ring and forcing my muscles to respond to him.
“Gods, Legolas, you’re a bit demanding, aren’t you?”
“You don’t want me this way?” And I hear a note of disappointment in his voice.
“Yes…I…oh, yes…” I say, and I hear him exhale in relief then spit again, probably on his cock, before presenting it to my entrance and rubbing it against my anus which twitches in anticipation. And I’m eager for him to take me hard but I know it’s going to be rough…and I know its going to hurt. So I lay there with my arse displayed inviting him to take his pleasure, tempting him to fill me, and trying to stay calm.
But I want him to do this. I need to feel him inside me again, feel him enclosed by my body. I need him to take me, to fuck me hard and give me gratification in the process.
And I need to be the only one to inflame lik like this.
Who said that?
In one move, he rams hard against my ring with determined force until I feel his rock hard shaft forcing its way past my muscles and into the lower end of my rectum. I grit my teeth and groan as the pain washes over me but then begins to fade almost as quickly. He withdraws a little then pushes in again, a bit further this time, then pulls back. Then he drives his penis home and I hear him moan in pleasure as he remains motionless and I assume he must be watching where his cock has entered my tight sheath.
“Are you alright?” he asks and rubs over my cheeks firmly, massaging and soothing me.
“Yes,” I manage to mumble.
He starts to move his cock in and out of me, slowly at first.
“Ohhhhh, Carandol…so nice…mnnn. Gods, I could do this all night.”
O.K…but I’ll probably be left with an imprint of the basket on my willy.
His thrusts quicken until he grips hold of my hips and plunges into me fiercely, pounding relentlessly and groaning loudly in his desire, needing completion, needing to be satisfied.
The heat from the friction is intense as he rubs and plunders my depths, moaning and grunting as he channels his power into the fulfilment of his lust. He is ignorant to all else around him as his grip tightens and his humping becomes even more ferocious.
I grip hold of the chest as his thrusts push into me and, as I’m forced forward, the wicker creaks and rustles as he shoves me along it over and over, until my fingers are sore from holding on.
The small room fills up with tmellmell of anal musk and sweat and it’s a provocative smell, now a familiar smell, warm and inviting, redolent of lust and sex; aromatic, yet pungent. A natural aphrodisiac.
My cock is pointing to the floor, trapped and rubbed by the side of the chest, dripping and oozing, raw and tender as my frantic need to come builds within almost as painfully as the friction without. And my arse is on fire and I’m loving it.
I am being well and truly fucked.
Oh…but this is good… harsh and intense, powerful and unrelenting; sensations that border on unbearable pleasure. I am consumed as Legolas ravishes my body and my senses, and my climax prepares to roar towards its violent eruption.
Suddenly Legolas goes rigid.
“Ohhhh…Carandol…yesss…” he shrieks, and pumps into me, again and again until I’m sure I must be almost overflowing with his hot semen.
He falls onto my back and his breathing is heavy and fast and his heart is pounding against my body.
“Legolas…?” I don’t like to do this, but my dick is screaming at me in discomfort.
“Please…Legolas…!”
He moves slightly as my voice registers.
“Carandol?”
“My cock. It’s trapped.”
“Oh, my poor sweeting. Let me see,” he says, and moves off to pull me away from the chest.
Legolas indicates for me to sit up on the edge of the chest as he examines my poor prick.
“Oh…Carandol…look what I’ve done!” he says, in genuine surprise.
My grateful cock strains to winch itself upwards and is obviously in need of some mouth to mouth. It was too confined to come and is now red and swollen, sore but desperate for attention.
Legolas bends down and takes my penis in his mouth, soft, warm and soothing.
I lean back on my arms and allow him to minister to my tortured shaft as he sucks gently and tenderly, careful not to make it even more uncomfortable as he takes in my whole cock and swallows it in his throat. That sensation is enough and I let my head drop backwards as the rhythm of my climax swells in my groin and surges along my penis to squirt into the wet and welcoming mouth.
Then the door opens and I recognise that scornful voice again.
“Well, well, Carandol…I see you also like to bed down the royal fruit!”
TBC...
Sebastian
MGC - Hole in one...as it were...
Minuial Nuwing - thanks for reviewing again...your wonderful comments make me blush...everywhere...
Azure Dragoness - hope you'll recover soon!
Sebastian
Carandol The Novice 4/?
Sequel to Carandol the Matchmaker
Author: Sebastian
Email: sebastian.s@btinternet.com
Archive: AdultFanFiction.net. OEAM, Anyone else, just let me know where it is.
Rating: NC-17 overall
Pairing: Carandol (OMC)/Legolas, Thranduil/???, Elladan & Elrohir/Lindir & most of the Elves of Mirkwood.
Genre: Fictional Person Slash. Humour
Warnings: AU, sex, bad language, more sex…even worse language……..
Summary: Carandol has been sent to Mirkwood to improve his…er… skills. Can he survive the spiders, the orcs, and, more to the point, can he survive the Mirkwood Cadet Corps?!
Timeline: Third Age, before the Fellowship.
Disclaimer: I only own Carandol and his machinations. Tolkien’s estate owns everything else. No infringement of copyright is intended. I bow to the master. This offering is written purely for fun and no profit is being made. Sigh…
Translations:
Beleg bróg- great bear
Filegluin - small blue bird
Anghathel – iron broadsword
Chapter 4: The dangers of horticulture and humping on a basket.
I wake up, stretch and wince.
“Hello, my sweet. The morning is now past its best,” Legolas greets me and leans over for a kiss.
So is my bum. I squirm a bit in discomfort.
“Are you well, my love?” Legolas asks, and grins.
How can he grin like that when it’s all his fault…
“Apart from aching leg muscles, a dick that emptied itself so hard it feels like it’s been through a mangle, and an arse that thinks it’s been scraped with sandpaper……I’m fine!”
“Oh good, I’m glad you’ve recovered!” he laughs. “It gets better,” he adds, reassuringly.
“It’ll have to, or our sex life is going to be as disappointing as Tom Bombadill and his poetry…”
“Do you mean persistent and always ready for repeat performances?” asks Legolas, and leers.
“No.”
He tries again. “Then you must mean… very long,” he says, and sheesheets start to undulate up and down.
“Not quite, my rampant prince,” I answer, trying to ignore his innuendos. “ActualIy, I meant…boring.”
“Then roll over…and I’ll show you what…boring… really means!”
Legolas pushes the sheets away and I look at his ever-ready erection in apprehension.
“Come, Carandol, here’s something I prepared earlier…” And he fingers his elongated penis in hopeful anticipation.
Elbereth…if I want to be able to walk anytime soon I’m going to have to perfect my Legolas deterrent…
Then he rubs his cock against me and leaves a trail of precum on my thigh.
…and I’d better do it soon!
“Gods, Legolas…haven’t you ever had enough?”
“Of you…no,” he says simply.
I suppose I would be touched if I wasn’t so tender, so I roll over… and out of the bed.
“You’re not going to leave me like this?” asks Legolas, with his well-rehearsed pout. “Hard and dripping and…”
Unusually, I don’t have that problem this morning; my prick has already poked his neck out, taken one look at Legolas’ wet and purple swelling, cringed in disbelief and settled back into his little coccoon.
“Yes,” I say, totally indifferent to his predicament. “I want to bathe and soak my bottom.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my sore little Carandol,” and he gives me such a sympathetic expression I feel like I’m taking sweeties from an elfling.
I succumb. “But…perhaps, while we’re in there…I could…” and I wipe my tongue over my lips and smile at him, salaciously. “It would be slightly more exciting than a quick wank.”
And almost before I’ve finished talking, he’s dragged me into
his washroom and we don’t come out again until my throat has taken pity on him several times over.
* * *
I spend the rest of the day mooning around.
And, no, I don’t mean pulling my leggings down and showing my arse off!
Legolas says he has some affairs of state to discuss with his father, but I suspect that they’ll just be swapping lewd stories and I start thinking of the twins again.
Around dinner time, Legolas catches up with me as I’m heading towards the dining room.
“I missed you,” he says as he embraces me.
“I don’t know how,” I say, looking down at his distended leggings with a smirk, “it’s pointing directly at me… again.”
He chuckles and tightens his hold.
“Legolas, I need to know what’s happening?”
“Well…we’re close…I’m getting excited…and you’re…er…”
Yes, alright, so I’m much recovered and now I’ve got a stiffie…but don’t change the subject.
“Never mind that,” I say, and pull away a bit. “Legolas, I want to know what’s going on, in the palace. They’ve been off-loading barrels for the last half hour, and I know Lindir spotted another delivery the other day.”
“Oh, that. Ada’s having a do tomorrow night, to welcome the midsummer solstice,” he answers.
Hmm…I’d heard Thranduil was famous for his magnificent balls……
“Haven’t you heard the gossip?” asks the prince, nuzzling at my hair.
“Gossip, what gossip?” I ask, turning my head away to try and focus. But then I realise that being clueless seems to be a habit with me lately.
“Poor Carandol, you’ve been a bit out of action, haven’t you?” Legolas says, and grips my hips to rub against me.
Well, you seem to have found everything in working order.
He moves back and looks at me. “Are you a bit down in the mouth, my love?”
I thought you liked it like that…
“No…no…just a bit bewildered. So, who’s coming?” I say, trying to bring myself back to the subject as Legolas leans in and sucks my neck.
He pulls away. “Some of the Galadhrim will be there, but a few of them will be going to Imladris. Lord Elrond is also having a ball.”
Yes, well, he was certainly enjoying himself the last time I saw him! I hope they can keep their mouths shut…some of the time, anyway.
“Is it just drinking, then?” I ask, never having attended one of Thranduil’s famous festivities.
Legolas stops as he’s about to nibble my ear.
“No, there’ll be all sorts of entertainments…” he says, then pulls at my earlobe with his lips. “And the cadets have got time off to prepare and help out with the arrangements.”
I want to know more. “What sort of entertainments?”
“Dancing…” he brushes his soft mouth across my cheek and flicks his tongue across the edge of my lips.
“Music…” The tongue moves down my neck and he nibbles the skin gently.
“A pageant…like a sort of play…” he moves up to my ear and runs his tongue around the outside.
“And…sex…” and the tongue moves into my ear and he blows warm breath into it then sucks on the tip.
I tremble and whimper and moan and… wait a minute…
“Sex?” I ask, croakily, pulling back. “What do you mean…sex?”
“You know…that stuff we did this morning…” He leers and then grabs hold of the lump under my tunic. “And there’ll be lots of it…so we’d better practice…” he says and pushes himself against me and devours my mouth.
Oh well, education is never wasted.
* * *
I watch the twins and Thranduil closely throughout dinner as they laugh and joke and look thoroughly relaxed with each other. Nauseating.
I catch up with the twins afterwards as they are leaving the dining hall.
“So, what were you two doing at the king’s private pool?” and I try not to sound too confrontational.
“Having fun,”says Elrohir.
And who else were you having…?
“The king invited us,” says Elladan.
“Both of you?” I ask.
“Yes. He said he needed two and he’d never done it with twins before,” says Elrohir.
“And we wanted to practice,” adds Elladan.
“Practice? You two?” I ask, incredulously. “What about Lindir?”
“He was invited but he wasn’t really interested. Said he’d rather amuse himself with his latest.”
“….er…”
“Called Beleg Bróg,” explains Elladan.
I don’t know anyone called Belegbróg… But I suppose if the twins are fooling around with Thranduil, I don’t blame him. Pity though, they fitted together so well…
“You should join us,” invites Elrohir, coming a bit nearer, and I take a nervous look around me to see if anyone is watching.
“You’d be good at it,” adds Elladan, also approaching.
Why do they always make me feel like I’m some sort of gastronomic delicacy?
“But perhaps you’d rather watch,” says Elrohir, and starts to stroke my face.
Don’t play with your food.
“Watch?” I say, and bend away from him.
“Yes,” sayladaladan, you saw us doing it in Imladris, although that was purely for fun, and only intended for a few.”
My mouth opens in shock. Gods…poor Lindir. I wonder if he knows he’s just their toy? Or doesn’t he care?
“But we got the taste for it, so when Thranduil suggested we join him, we jumped at the chance,” explains Elrohir.
“He’s so experienced,” states Elladan, in admiration.
“And we’ve learnt a lot,” adds Elrohir.
And my mouth is now catching flies…
Now you know I’m not an introvert… you can’t be when your bum is an extrovert and has discovered a new method of getting skid marks on the sheets!
But this blatant assessment of Thranduil’s sexual prowess is… …oh, alright, it’s fascinating… but what about Lindir and…
“We need to practice more, though, we haven’t got it quite right
yet,” says Elladan. “There’s a rhythm to these things and it takes a while to perfect it. You really should consider doing it with us, I’m sure Legolas would like to see you perform…”
“Oh no, there is no way…”
Hang on a bit…Legolas would like to watch me? Surely not, not with another elf, or several.
“Or perhaps we should ask the lovely Legolas himself,” muses Elrohir. “He’d be able to get some more implements. Thranduil keeps quite a stock, but Legolas may have some things we haven’t thought of.”
I don’t want to hear this…Wait a minute, yes I do!
“Um…what do mean…implements?” I ask, naively.
“You know, tools of the trade…props and such,” says Elladan, and I’m none the wiser.
“Thranduil does this amazing thing with a re big big leather scabbard. He puts his…”
“Yes, yes, I can imagine!” I say, hurriedly.
“Oh, sorry, we won’t spoil it for you then. I’m sure he would rather you saw it first-hand, anyway.” says Elrohir.
Oh Eru!…And he was so polite at the pool!
“And don’t worry about Legolas. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself,” says Elladan. “I’m sure he’s used to it by now. After all, he’s done it several times before.”
Well, I know he’s had lots of lovers before me…but…not all at the same time surely…?
I’m out of my depth here.
“You have got to see Thranduil in a dress…!” says Elrohir, laughing.
I can’t listen to any more of this. Robes are one thing, but cross-dressing elves shagging each other…no…this is too bizarre.
“If you change your mind, we’ll be doing it for the last time tonight,” says Elrohir, “that’ll still give you enough time to learn a few things.”
“Why stop tonight?” I ask.
“Because it’s the ball tomorrow, and we’ll all be doing it together then,” answers Elladan.
“Our public awaits,” says Elrohir, with a giggle.
Then they both lean in and give me two soft kisses on either side of my mouth.
Gods, its going to be an orgy!
I feel sick.
I don’t want to share him…not my Legolas.
But then he did specifically mention sex at the ball. Why would he do that if not… Was it a warning?
* * *
I return to the barracks in deep thought and very distracted.
Lindir is sitting on his cot practising his music and a few pairs of cadets are cavorting around the spaces between the beds.
I sit down next to Lindir.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“What’s it look like?” asks Anghathel.
“I’d rather not say,” I answer with a smirk.
Anghathel turns back to his partner. “Look, I’m not going to be the she-elf, and that’s final!”
“So, he’s not a bottom after all,” I whisper to Lindir, as I watch the big elf arguing with Filegluin.
“I don’t blame him, after what he’s been through. His steps have been a little…er…stilted,” he says and gives me a saucy smile.
I look back to the dancers… and I use that term loosely. Actually, its beginning to look like a rather eccentric version of unarmed combat. I turn to Lindir.
“So why the sudden interest in…er…well…what looks like the Mordor Manoeuvre?”
Lindir laughs. “I couldn’t tell you, they’ve all looked the same. Could be the Orc’s Excuse-Me for all I know. And I’m sure they haven’t a clue either,” says Lindir with a shrug. “Gildor suggested that they practice some of the finer points of court etiquette, including dancing. He should have saved his breath.”
“From what I hear, the finer ps ofs of court etiquette involves exercise of a different sort.” I snort, then remember why I wanted to see Lindir.
“How is Belegbróg?” I ask, actually wanting to ask him about the twins.
“Not bad, although, I still need to perfect my fingering.”
“So, its got that far then?” I ask, with regret.
“Of course. It’s working out better than I hoped. We had a go at it this morning just to make sure we were ready to do it in public.”
I know that Lindir likes group sex, but…in public?
Lindir puts his harp aside and smiles broadly. “So, how are you Carandol? We haven’t seen you for a while. Have you recovered?”
“No… I’ve been with Legolas. Look, we need to talk,” I say.
“About Legolas?”
“No, about the twins.”
“Mmmm, two of my favourite subjects,” he says, and grins. “They’ve been a bit occupied lately, though.”
“I know. Do you know where they’ve been?”
“Oh, yes. They told me all about it. They asked me to join them, but it’s not really my thing.”
Has everyone gone mad…or is it just me?
And then Filegluin calls from across the dorm, “Lindir…can you play that last tune again, we want to have a go at the Balrog Shuffle.”
* * *
I decide I need to wander off on my own and take a walk around the gardens to get some air and some sanity back. There’s a lot of activity in the palace caves and elves have begun arriving for the festival. Not feeling in the mood to talk pleasantries, and being a beautiful evening, I wander towards a small group of trees and decide to lurk.
While there I’m caught short, so instead of returning to the caves,
I stand behind one of the trees and aim my todger at a large rose bush. I am interrupted in mid-pee by a rather disdainful voice.
“Doesn’t Thranduil prefer to water the plants normally,” the voice asks.
“He’s fond of his flowers; I’m exterminating the greenfly.”
“Landscape artist, eh? Or…”
“Piss artist?” I retort.
I shake, tuck and turn.
The elf making ruderude enquiry is standing behind me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I run an eye over his silver-blonde hair, muscular frame and eyes which bore into me with scornful curiosity.
“I am Carandol. By appointment to His Royal Highness, I fertilize his majesty’s sapling and enlarge the prince’s root stock.” I bow with a flourish.
The smirk gradually turns into a grin.
“And what do you do with the rest of your time?” asks the lovely stranger.
“Get rid of pests!”
I turn abruptly and walk away, but hear him stride after me.
“Wait, my young gardener,” he says, grabbing hold of my elbow and pulling me to a stop. “I’m sorry if I rubbed you up the wrong way.”
I shake my arm free. “I wouldn’t want you that close. And I’m not used to being caught with my dick out like that.”
His eyes twinkle as he takes a step closer. “But you must be used to comments, if you’re in the habit of waving it about in the garden.”
“You make me sound like some sort of pervert,” I say, irritated.
“No, just careless,” he answers.
I thought my aim was quite accurate…
“Now, I come from a place where you’d feel quite at home exposing yourself amongst the trees.”
“You must be from Lothlórien, then,” I remark. “I always wondered what fertiliser made the mallorn grow so tall!”
I start to walk back to the palace caves again ae foe follows. I know he’s watching my arse, so I give him a wiggle, just to let him know what he can’t have.
Then I realise my mistake when I feel his hand rubbing my backside and he gives a deep and fruity chuckle. I leap out of his reach and squeak.
“My, my, Carandol. So jumpy?”
“Hands off. I’m taken,” I say, stupidly.
“So am I. With you.”
I move further away from him. “What’s your name, so I know who toid oid in future?”
“Haldir.”
* * *
“Carandol…are you alright? You look a bit flushed,” Legolas asks as I enter the palace.
“Yes. But I’m worried…about the ball. Please tell me its not what I think?”
“And what do you think?”
“Everyone seems to be preparing themselves for a night of public debauchery.”
“I do hope so,” Legolas answers, and I feel the colour leave my cheeks.
“Even the strange elf I met in the garden took the liberty of feeling me up.”
“What elf? Where?”
“Haldir. He grabbed me by the Sweet Williams.”
Hmmm…!
“Very apt, Carandol, considering he likes to deflower young elves. I didn’t think he’d be able to resist one of Ada’s little amusements.”
Now you’re confusing me with the twins.
“Legolas, talk to me…please?”
He sighs. “Carandol, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, desperate to…see you…and now you want me to talk? Look, I’m going to be busy for the rest of the evening so I haven’t got long and I need… “
He looks around then pulls me into a small room and pushes me towards a very large wicker storage chest.
“Legolas…can’t this wait?”
“Not any more,” he says, “I’ve been carrying this around all day,” and he presses my hand against the large swelling in his groin.
“But...”
“Fast and furious has its own charm, my sweet.”
“Yes…but…”
“No more questions. No more quick gropes in the hallway…I want you now. There’ll be time for a long slow one later.”
He stands in front of me and pulls at my laces.
“Right now, I just want to screw the arse off you.”
There’s no need to wrap it up in flowery language… just give it to me straight…!
He turns me round and pushes me face down over the chest and places a hand on the small of my back to indicate that I should stay there.
O.K…so rectilinear it is…
“Legolas…?!” I say, trying to get some surprise in my voice but I giggle and ruin the effect, and all thoughts of tomorrow vanish from my mind.
Frankly, his urgent need for me is so thrilling and such a turn on that I’m now impatient to be taken quickly. I can smell the deep aroma of desire on him and sense that nothing will stop him from getting what he is so desperate for.
He swiftly yanks my leggings down to my knees which means I can’t open my legs very wide. Then I hear him open his leggings and the satisfied moan as he pulls out his prick.
He rubs his hands over my bottom and spreads my buttocks wide. The sensation of him forcing my cheeks so far apart makes me shudder with need as the cooler air whispers over my hot little tunnel. I am totally exposed to him, wide open and eager, and completely at his mercy. Then I feel him bend down and spit a few times over my arse and a liberal quantity of saliva drips down my crack.
His breathing is heavy and fast as he pushes two wet fingers into my entrance and moves them around hastily, pulling at my ring and forcing my muscles to respond to him.
“Gods, Legolas, you’re a bit demanding, aren’t you?”
“You don’t want me this way?” And I hear a note of disappointment in his voice.
“Yes…I…oh, yes…” I say, and I hear him exhale in relief then spit again, probably on his cock, before presenting it to my entrance and rubbing it against my anus which twitches in anticipation. And I’m eager for him to take me hard but I know it’s going to be rough…and I know its going to hurt. So I lay there with my arse displayed inviting him to take his pleasure, tempting him to fill me, and trying to stay calm.
But I want him to do this. I need to feel him inside me again, feel him enclosed by my body. I need him to take me, to fuck me hard and give me gratification in the process.
And I need to be the only one to inflame lik like this.
Who said that?
In one move, he rams hard against my ring with determined force until I feel his rock hard shaft forcing its way past my muscles and into the lower end of my rectum. I grit my teeth and groan as the pain washes over me but then begins to fade almost as quickly. He withdraws a little then pushes in again, a bit further this time, then pulls back. Then he drives his penis home and I hear him moan in pleasure as he remains motionless and I assume he must be watching where his cock has entered my tight sheath.
“Are you alright?” he asks and rubs over my cheeks firmly, massaging and soothing me.
“Yes,” I manage to mumble.
He starts to move his cock in and out of me, slowly at first.
“Ohhhhh, Carandol…so nice…mnnn. Gods, I could do this all night.”
O.K…but I’ll probably be left with an imprint of the basket on my willy.
His thrusts quicken until he grips hold of my hips and plunges into me fiercely, pounding relentlessly and groaning loudly in his desire, needing completion, needing to be satisfied.
The heat from the friction is intense as he rubs and plunders my depths, moaning and grunting as he channels his power into the fulfilment of his lust. He is ignorant to all else around him as his grip tightens and his humping becomes even more ferocious.
I grip hold of the chest as his thrusts push into me and, as I’m forced forward, the wicker creaks and rustles as he shoves me along it over and over, until my fingers are sore from holding on.
The small room fills up with tmellmell of anal musk and sweat and it’s a provocative smell, now a familiar smell, warm and inviting, redolent of lust and sex; aromatic, yet pungent. A natural aphrodisiac.
My cock is pointing to the floor, trapped and rubbed by the side of the chest, dripping and oozing, raw and tender as my frantic need to come builds within almost as painfully as the friction without. And my arse is on fire and I’m loving it.
I am being well and truly fucked.
Oh…but this is good… harsh and intense, powerful and unrelenting; sensations that border on unbearable pleasure. I am consumed as Legolas ravishes my body and my senses, and my climax prepares to roar towards its violent eruption.
Suddenly Legolas goes rigid.
“Ohhhh…Carandol…yesss…” he shrieks, and pumps into me, again and again until I’m sure I must be almost overflowing with his hot semen.
He falls onto my back and his breathing is heavy and fast and his heart is pounding against my body.
“Legolas…?” I don’t like to do this, but my dick is screaming at me in discomfort.
“Please…Legolas…!”
He moves slightly as my voice registers.
“Carandol?”
“My cock. It’s trapped.”
“Oh, my poor sweeting. Let me see,” he says, and moves off to pull me away from the chest.
Legolas indicates for me to sit up on the edge of the chest as he examines my poor prick.
“Oh…Carandol…look what I’ve done!” he says, in genuine surprise.
My grateful cock strains to winch itself upwards and is obviously in need of some mouth to mouth. It was too confined to come and is now red and swollen, sore but desperate for attention.
Legolas bends down and takes my penis in his mouth, soft, warm and soothing.
I lean back on my arms and allow him to minister to my tortured shaft as he sucks gently and tenderly, careful not to make it even more uncomfortable as he takes in my whole cock and swallows it in his throat. That sensation is enough and I let my head drop backwards as the rhythm of my climax swells in my groin and surges along my penis to squirt into the wet and welcoming mouth.
Then the door opens and I recognise that scornful voice again.
“Well, well, Carandol…I see you also like to bed down the royal fruit!”
TBC...
Sebastian