Iphegeneia

Are you people ready for this? I'm not so sure.
Hehehe - well, read one, then. And don't forget to let me know how you like it. ;)

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Iphegeneia 7


The incident with the fever left Frodo somewhat over-protective and Malou nuts from his attitude. She originally found it extremely endearing that he should worry this much about her, but it had come to point where she felt he was smothering her. Still in some pain and still fighting to get back both mentally and physically, the tension built up and inevitably exploded one day.

"Okay – I HAVE HAD *ENOUGH* OF YOU CONSTANTLY ASKING IF I NEED SOMETHING ELSE… GIVE-IT-A-REST!!!!!!!!"

Her highly loud and very aggressive outburst happened when Frodo caught her in the hallway on her way to the toilet. He had reached out his hands and asked her what she needed for the umpteenth time that day. It had pushed her over the edge. Completely forgetting every word he had ever taught her in Elvish and utterly forgetting her manners towards the man who had nursed her back to health and literally saved her life, she hovered over him, her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing with pent-up fury.
Frodo blinked at the onslaught. Of course, he hadn't understood one word of what she had said, but her rather formidably looking attitude conveyed more than words. Her eyes flashed dark blue arrows at him, her mouth spit out foul words, no doubt, and her hair almost stood up in the air, strutting with anger.
She looked incredibly attractive.
So he laughed.

He couldn't help it. The relief at seeing her so strong in front of him, showing such temperamental behaviour – the laughter just started rolling from deep within his throat.
She looked at him with disbelief. That little… was he standing there laughing at her? Why, that two-time, double-crossing, no-good…. >giggles<.

And then the hallways erupted in throaty laughter in stereo.

The session of uncontrollable mirth was just what the doctor ordered. Malou felt so much better after releasing the tension, and Frodo had understood that he needn't be so concerned about her any more. Anyone who could deliver such a volatile mood and aggressive speech, regardless of language, could not be on the verge of dying, that much was certain.

In the process, but Malou never really realised it, the Dane's self-pity and tendency to depression vanished too. She never knew it, but she had never, in fact, been more happy than during these days of recuperation in the little Hobbit's home. Though she went through a colourful spectre of various emotions, ranging from intense happiness to dull despair, she had never been a more whole person. Issues started to dawn on her. She had never accepted the 'donor-hood' on account of her brother! She had done it for the sainthood and martyrdom that came with it. A bitter realisation, but important nonetheless.
Paradoxially, it made her feel better about herself; telf-elf-pity had always tasted foul in her mouth. Now, that she knew what caused it, she could readily do away with it. Such a relief! Like a heavy stone being lifted from her heart.

She wished she could tell Frodo all this, but her range of Elvish terms was still very much lacking. At regular intervals they would practise, but her sentences were still highly primitive and morphology basically non-existent.

*

With her soul, her body healed – almost as if the two entities were unavoidably connected at a higher level, unknown to physicians. She still could not carry anything, but she moved much more freely now. The scars were merely a fascinating reminiscence of past suffering, nothing more, the fever had never returned; she had had the beginnings of a bladder infection at some point, but by drinking an abnormal amount of fluid, she was able to flush it out before it took root.

She knew walking was good for her and took up long walks with her host whose crease had diminished so much that she could hardly spot it anymore. And with her good health, something else returned. Her sense of sexuality.
This, of course, was not so fortunate. The only male in close range was Frodo, and it really wasn't a good idea to shag one's caretaker in a situation like this, no matter how cute he was.
*Damn it!*

Well. There was always self-service, she decided.

*

It had been a very rainy day. They had spent most of the time indoors; Sif being bored stiff, Frodo reading aloud to Malou to entertain her and teach her more terms, and Malou lazily sketching while listening. The humidity in the air was very high which was evident from the faint glistening of their skin. In addition, it was fairly hot.

Now, the night was black and endless, the rain came down even harder, making the wooden shudders rattle and the old stones moan plaintively. Rain was not unusual in the Elven Land. After all, the plants needed water to thrive and flourish. However, the rain had never been this hard and brutal. Its lashing of the porch almost sounded like a punishment. A punishment for what? The crease between Frodo Baggins' eyes was on the verge of returning.
No doubt the storm would have awoken his guest and he would have to make sure that she was alright. Despite his surmise that she was already awake, Frodo took great care not to creak the door as he opened it. It took his eyes a second to adjust to the still darkness of her (former his) room, but he finally made out her quiet form in the bed. She appeared calm… wait. What was that?

He saw her shape move ever so gently, reaching down her own body with a clenching spasm of the hand. Pains again? No, the hand proceeded further down. Oh, what? Womb blood?

Without even remembering that she was now perfectly able to take care of it herself, Frodo immediately went to her bed to help her. She was still sleeping when he took off her cover to reveal her in her short night shirt. Delicately, he lifted the lower rim of the shirt to expose her abdomen. No visible blood. Softly, oh, so softly, he parted her legs, trying not to disturb her pleasant sleep. No blood that he could see. But then, who could see anything in this darkness? Without even hesitating, he stroked her folds with his fingers. Nothing wet was down there… but his action opted a strange reaction from her.

The hand of hers that had fumbled her nether parts came alive again, searching downwards, extending a finger that crept inbetween the feather soft folds. But only shortly. The hand fell quickly aside and a sigh left her lips.
Frodo glared. And glared. What the h…???
Was she trying to tell him something? He repeated his touch. This time she arched her back and started sighing and moaning. Was she *really* asleep? He listened to her heavy breating. It certainly sounded like it. Fascinated, Frodo kept his hands upon her vulva; now, all of a sudden, she felt wet. He raised his hand to his nose and sniffed. Not blood.
But instead, something that aroused him beyond belief.

His hand returned to its former task and he knelt down to sniff her femalehood. By Lûthien, that smelt good. So good.
All male instincts awoken and alert, Frodo continued to explore. It seemed that everything he did down here teased a kittenish response out of her. Her lips were wet, red and swollen as far as he could see. Did her mouth match them?

The Hobbit crept further up to the level of her head; in the process, his small body rubbed against hers and something became very, very strained underneath his night shirt.
*Oh, dearest, should I do this? But she is so lovely. So lovely. How can a human be so lovely?*
When he reached her head, he instantly noticed that her facial lips matched her… lower lips. Red, swollen and aroused. He wanted to kiss them.
So he did.

Smaller lips connected with bigger lips in a slow dance of love and lust. The Hobbit was engulfed in one desire only: To sample as much of this tempting and attractive human female as possible. Licking the inner side of her lips, letting his tongue dance across her pearly teeth, drowning himself in her being made his heart flip and his night shirt bulge.

A pair of eyes flipped open and stared directly into his. Frodo's heart shot to his throat and he slowly let go of her mouth. She didn't say anything, didn't move at all. She just looked at him with this… hungry expression that nearly drove him mad.
And suddenly they collided in a sweeping kiss, eating each other raw, their hands roaming each other's body fervently.

Malou eagerly fumbled at Frodo's shirt and threw it aside quickly while Frodo was tugging at hers. He was lying on the right side of her, not touching or disturbing the wounded side. My god, they had tiptoed around each other for so long. Possibly the longest foreplay Malou had ever engaged in.

That was as far as her thoughts were allowed to stray; a very insisting mouth closed hers again, while busy hands claimed one of her breasts, moulding it, gently squeezing it and playing with the rosy niple. While she was struggling with phrases like 'please, suckle it', Frodo got the idea himself and shifted position to allow him to suckle her niple. He flicked his tongue quickly over the sensitive little nub that instantly became achingly stiff and erect. She hissed and arched. It felt incredibly good.
Malou let out a moan of disappointment when his warm moist lips left the perky hill of her breast. She heard his voice close to her ear, a warm, comforting sensation.
"Hush, my lovely lady," he whispered, "I will do anything you want of me. All these days… I didn't know what the warm fuzzy feeling inside of me was. I have no experience. I just know that I must please you or die."

His words, so intense and sincere, burned in her mind, aching for release. Who would have known that such a small person would be the one to ignite the fire within her. She was heavily panting now. A little man with a big soul. …. And… very… able…. hands.
Was he really inexperienced?

"Frodo," she gasped, "I… want you." She briefly wondered if the expression could be thus directly translated into Elvish until she felt his member harden against her thigh. Okay. He knew what she meant. She fumbled at it eagerly, like a schoolgirl during her first time.
"This!" she nearly cried, "I must have this… here!"
She had led his hand to her wet, dripping folds. Good heavens! It had been so long. And she hadn't been in the mood for so very long. Until now, when her cunt burned more than she could tolerate.
Frodo buried his fingers in her quivering centre.
"So hot," he said in wonder, "so hot and wet. Please… I must taste you."

Action followed words of sweet promise. Frodo crept further down to reunite with her welcoming folds and molten hill. Without any preamble, he simply shoved in his tongue and lapped her juice. Oh, sweetness, she tasted like honey.
Frodo was riding on pure instinct. He found that licking felt good, that it increased the hardness of his shaft and that it made his heart flip over in excitement. He felt her luscious body alternately arch and relax as her pleasure increased and crescendo was near. Momentarily he replaced his tongue for his hand, unable to resist touching the hot tunnel in there.

He realised that he wanted something else to go in there. In fact, he wanted it so much that he felt he would explode if he didn't put it there.
"I want to be inside of you," he whispered huskily. The tone of his voice nearly pushed her over the edge. She was almost whimpering when she practically begged him to impale her on his rock hard cock.
"Do you want me in you?"
"Oh, yes, please – pleeeease," she nearly cried, "*do not torment me any more.*" she added in Danish. She gently grabbed his penis, which made it jab and the rest of him shiver, and guided it towards her gates of pleasure. That was all the encouragement he needed.
"Oh, you are lovely," he panted, "so lovely… so…."

And in one fluent move he penetrated her. His member slid inside with almost no friction, her being so wet, and him a little smaller than the average male human. Neither of them really noticed it as he instantly began slamming into her with fervour while she met each and every thrust he bestowed on her. Reaching down, she squeezed his dunking cock with two fingers, making the poor Hobbit cry out in surprise and overload of arousal.
To easen the maddening pressure, he leaned over her and caused her clit to go off scale now that his abdomen was massaging the sensitive little nub to the brink of insanity.
Nature took over as Frodo gripped her hips, strained every muscle and sinews in his tight body and ploughed her pulsing cunt with his swollen manhood. It was hard, it was nearly out of control, it was…. she came with a sudden flash of intense orgasm that rippled through her body like tidal waves. The shock of it made her let go of his shaft and delay his peak. However, Frodo, deeply gone in the premordial reflexes of a male being, pressed down her pussy with his hand and consequently came with a loud yell as his coppery cum spurted inside of his precious lady.

Only in the last second did Frodo remember that he couldn't just collapse on top of her. He rolled to the side, extremely scant of breath and trying like hell to catch it. At the same time he desperately tried to control what was going on in his mind. He understood that his body had been completely taken over by natural instincts. And he knew that this astonig wog woman underneath him had managed to stimulate him to a degree he had never thought possible. His entire being was still shaking from the overwhelming experience of a fire that had – perhaps still was – run rampant through him. It had exploded in his face and in his chest to the extent that he found it difficult to breathe. And apparently something similar had happened to her, he realised, as he opened his eyes and saw her flushed and happy face.

"You okay?"
"Oh, yeah," she nodded, her eyes half lidded with an expression he had never seen in a woman's face before.
"That was… incredible."
Malou didn't know the word, but she had a feeling that she had just learned another superlative.
"Yes – incredible."
A loving and caressing hand started toying with her belly button, Actually, she had very little tactile sense there, compliments to the severed nerve paths from the operation, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. Besides, it didn't matter. Just sensing him on her skin was the greatest feeling ever.

They lay together for a while, stroking each other, whispering tumbled words of affection for each other; the rain was still coming down hard outside. Perhaps even harder than before. Malou wondered anxiously if this storm had anything to do with her arrival to this Land. Like a vengeance… something to come…. something.
Frodo instantly sensed the change in her, even though he wasn't looking at her face. He lifted his head.
"Worried thoughts and feelings are not allowed," he said, then sl smi smirking as he saw the change in her face when his hand started travelling downwards again. A deliciously slow smile spread over her face.
"I show you something," she said and gingerly turned to lie on her side, her back against him. She inched her left leg forward a bit, exposing her willing cleft, stroked her own round cheeks in a particularly inviting way and started virtually to purr.

Frodo's heart started beating furiously again. How did she do that? The beckg clg cleft seemed to reel him in. He *had* to touch it, to rub against it. To bury himself in it. To own it.
It was already red to the extent that it looked painful. She was on fire and he knew how to extinguish it. A probing fingonvionvinced him that she needed no further preparation. She was already dripping with juice, just waiting to receive him.

Placing his cock delicately between her trembling lips, he smeared the head with her lubricant first. It felt so good. How could he have lived for so long without knowing this feeling? This acknowledged tragedy of his life made him shove himself in with a sudden burst. She embraced him happily. Frodo moaned with delight.
Careful not to grope her scars, he put his arms around her from behind and connected with her rosy hills. Being so much shorter than she was, he had to reach up to get to them, but she pushed herself up by the elbow to accommodate him and the position allowed him to offer her rhythmic caresses as he started to pump her. From behind was good too, he realised. She was just as hot this way, and he fitted so well in the small of her back.
His clever work with her breasts paid off very quickly as he soon felt the clenching of her vaginal walls. But it wouldn't be! She would have to wait. So he let go of her soft hills and grabbed her buttocks to spread them a little. It easened the pressure on her clit and forced her to come down a bit. She snarled in protest; he grinned against her back.

He took his sweet time, beginning to experiment, circling his dick within her, pulling it out, letting it play with her folds, squeezing the clit with a feather touch and then let it be, basically driving her mad until she reached back and pressed him against her bottom in a frantic attempt to push him in deeper – deeper.

Then all of a sudden, he squeezed in two fingers along with his member and started thrusting almost brutally, and Malou experienced five minutes of intense crescendo before her world coalesced into a quick and hard climax. Frodo came some seconds before she did, but she was able to ride hers off on the after shock of his.
Still twitching, his hips continuing the thrusting a little while after, he clung to her like a man drowning. His flood of semen tickled out of her trembling tunnel as his flaccid member shudderingly left her holy grounds.

They slept heavily after this, oblivious to the raging storm outside that so insistently drummed on Frodo's shudders as a grim reminder of what might be on its way.

*
TBC