Sex and the Sire

Title: Sex and the Sire (1/4) (E/E/E/G NC-17)
Chapter 1: The Unseen Poet
Author/Email: sandyg writearts2@earthlink.net
Pairing: All chapters: Glorfindel/Elrond, Elrond/Elladan, Elrohir/Elladan /Elrond (and a partridge in a pear tree)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Four different 1st person POV’s: Elrohir, Elladan, Elrond and Glorfindel. Enjoy the sexy view from all angles and all the emotional baggage that is included. From Elrohir’s frustration to Glorfindel’s sexual triumph, it’s all revealed here.
Feedback: Sure, bring it on, kids!
Content: M/M sex and incest. An excuse to get my faves in bed together.
Disclaimer: The usual blah blah don’t come after me everything is just borrowed so there.

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ELROHIR’S POV:

Now where was my dear Ella?

He did say meet at the mammoth quartz river boulder around noon. Very well, I was here, the huge sparkling boulder certainly was here, but my tardy twin was no where to be found. I estimated I had been waiting for a sleepy hour. Unfortunately I couldn’t remain here much longer; I had an appointment with Glorfindel to learn the last touches on apertpert sword maneuver. Just thinking about my next lesson flooded me with excitement. Powerful Glorfindel swore that unless your opponent knew exactly what you were doing to them this dangerous move would prove fatal. Given that we mostly fought Orcs and beings of lesser intelligence the Elf Lord doubted this would be a serious problem.

Mmm, learning from dear Glorfindel made me feel so proud of my advanced skills; he confided in me that he thought I handled my sword like it was an extension of my strong slender body. Everything came naturally to me, where as my Elladan truly had to learn and practice.

High praise coming from such a lauded warrior Lord. I adored Glorfindel, fully believing he the returned legendary slayer of the Balrog. Elladan didn’t share my reve bel belief. Of course when questioned Glorfindel would fall silent and shake his head, his wide eyes growing lost with the past.

When I questioned Father on the matter he did the same thing; he smiled and remained mysteriously silent. That was such an annoying trait of the elder Elves; they’d merely smile and ignore you. Their technique wasn’t considered rude; it was merely their way. Frustrating!

Speaking of frustration I certainly experienced it now. I sensed that my anticipated sensual afternoon break wasn’t going to happen. Instead of rolling my body against my sweet twin I sat here basking in the golden sun. Oh well. Sighing forlornly I tossed a fallen leaf into the river’s fast flow before recurling on my sun-warmed rock. Mmm, I hated how Elladan told me to be somewhere and I complied like a happy slave. He had that lethal effect on me. I couldn’t deny my dear twin. Still, I didn’t mind resting here letting the sweet sun wash over me. It felt pleasant to relax so deeply.

Ha, my clever Elladan was probably bending poor Father’s patient ear about some daring new plan. My aggressive twin adored his wild plans and sensible Father usually reigned him in, pointing out all the dangers and pitfalls. Ever since we rashly chased after Mother my Elladan fancied himself as a dashing young hero. He acted so funny. Regarding Mother we hardly did much rescuing; scaring off Orcs didn’t amount to much of a rescue. Lethal Mother was already holding her own, she perched in a tree slashing with her curved sword, shooting her bow and uttering colorful curses. Yes, Mother was quite adept at shooting both arrows and insults. She mainly aimed the latter at poor frustrated Fa.
.

Frankly I was all for letting stubborn Mother go off on her own. After all, she chose to leave Father. In my heart I thought how could anyone want to leave my glorious Father? He was a legendary hero: tall, strong, and handsome plus here at Imladris we lived like lauded kings, surrounded by sublime comfort and exquisite beauty. Why would you want to walk out on such a glorious life? Ha, I planned on living here for as long as possible.

After their last epic fight, conducted because she wanted to take Arwen away with her, Mother stormed off on her own. To my surprise Father felt furious enough to let her go, he claiming why should he halt her? Mother wanted to leave. Why should he waste an escort on her? She didn’t ask for one, did she? So let her go. When we questioned further Father glared at us both and told us the matter was over, he viscously slamming the door to his study. Poor confused Arwen cried until her nanny escorter bar back to her room. It was such an uncomfortable situation!

I had never seen Father quite so furious. Fiery Elladan thought that letting Mother leave on her own wasn’t proper, so he coaxed me into accompanying him. Mother should at least have an escort. Ella’s strong instincts proved correct.

After we freed her from the Orc attack Elladan, in his sweetly persuasive manner, talked Mother into returning to Imladris but after another few cruel fights she decided to leave us for good. I didn’t really mind; Mother always cared more for Arwen and Elladan. It’s not as if she didn’t like me; Mother simply never noticed me. I was a carbon copy of her beloved first born so I was redundant. She never took the time to understand me as an individual.

Ha! Grinning at my memories I shook back my long hair. One time I did prove a point to Mother. Long ago Elladan was supposed to accompany her on a journey to Elven friends who lived on Rivendell’s far border. Instead I went along, making sure I acted like Elladan. I could mimic my dear twin without thinking. Not to my surprise Mother never noticed the difference; when at the day’s end I revealed my little trick I thought she was going to strike me. Ha, some loving mother she turned out to be! Still, I wished her all the best across the Sea. I had no desire to ever travel there. Never.

Now that strange concept always frustrated me. I argued long and hard with my Father about the whole Aman theory. Why was it that our realms were protected by Rings? Why? What a silly concept! These Elven realms were built by Elves for Elves yet these Rings maintained them? So if the One Ring, this evil thing, was destroyed, then all the gracious Elven glory would fall since all the Rings would fail? How nonsensical! Well then I hoped that the cursed Ring remained where foolish Isildur lost it because I didn’t want the other Elven Rings of power to fail. I didn’t want to flee across the Sea.

My ancient Father always chastised me for such rash words. In his view it wasn’t a problem if the Middle Earth Elven realms ceased; Aman was a gift for us so we could continue on. But why did we have to continue on in another realm? I liked Middle Earth just fine! By the Gods sometimes I felt like my entire existence was based on lofty whims. I resented it. Since I never gave in at a certain point in our discussions Father would usually smile and shake his head in his classic ancient manner. As I grew older I discovered that noble Father possessed no answers beyond the known facts. Interesting. I liked thinking the mighty Lord Elrond slightly imperfect. It made me love him more.

But our lively arguments always chased round and round like two angry cats attacking each other’s tails. I enjoyed them since for once I possessed Father’s full attention. I always wanted Father’s full attention and when our minds merged in verbal battle we felt so happy with each other.

Not that Father ignored met itt it amused me how everyone considered my lively Elladan the warrior hero and me as the younger brother, even if scant minutes separated us. Please, I never regarded myself as a hero; I was a capable lethal warrior but not a hero. I definitely knew Father wasn’t sure what to make of me, since aside from our delicious verbal skirmishes I often acted shy around him. Handsome powerful Father simply overwhelmed me. He often called me his brilliant Poet since I adored scribbling down words and thoughts plus I proved most eloquent during our arguments. Little did Father know I scribbled down everything I heard around me and I heard more than most.

Another merry smile crossed my face. Yes, I kept my major talent to myself; I hovered in the shadows and few knew that I dwelled there. For some reason I could buffer the air around me and mask my presence. As long as I kept oh, at least three feet away I could creep up and monitor a conversation. Not that there was revolution or dissent at Imladris but I heard so many different viewpoints and contradics. Ts. To my dismay I learned that Elves, for all their supposed wisdom and age, acted highly petty and bigoted. I estimated that 90 percent of Imladris detested humans, Dwarves and Hobbits. Yes, the beautiful ancient beings treated everyone kindly but once they were alone the bitter truth came out. The Humans were ruining the world. The Dwarves were good for nothing thieves. Hobbits were worthless buffoons. Only the Elves supplied grace and beauty to Middle Earth. Shocking.

Often I felt ashamed of my fellow Elves, although I was proud to note my noble Father never expressed such sentiments. Instead Father was an open-minded Elf who appreciated all who dwelled in Middle Earth with a forgiving grace. I wanted to follow his gracious lead.

The only being who knew about my mysterious masking talent was Mithrandir, since his wizard trained senses caught me ease-dropping on a secret conversation. Luckily instead of revealing me to the world my wizard friend caught up with me later, he more interested in what I could do than with scolding me. Of course we conducted tests together, he observing and documenting my talent. My talent intrigued him to no end; there was no record of such a talent in the Peredhil family. I liked feeling so unique. Sometimes being a twin I needed that comfort.

Of course my dynamic Ella thought my talent amusing but highly trivial. His opinion was how would such a gentle talent help in deadly battle? Would I stand there listening to the Orcs as they killed everyone around me? Why that sounded so useful! When I retorted that Ella would simply talk the Orcs to death we ended up indulging in one of our hilarious wrestling matches. We had such fun together!

All right, enough of this patiently waiting nonsense. Ella probably sprawled in our room becoming impatient with me. He forgot where he was to meet me, even though he sted ted the site. My dear twin could be tha that; he was most forgetful. Ha, was acting forgetful part of being a so-called Hero? Pfft, it looked that way to me.

Rising from my perch on the warm smooth rock I stretched out my slender body, waving my slim fingers to the shimmering sky. Ahh, a long hard stretch felt delicious. All right, today I’d take the upper path that mounted the cliff to the highest waterfall. Running lightly I skipped from tall boulder to boulder, racing up the steep hill, entering a dense stand of fragrant pine trees.

Wait, I always had to pause at this exact spot. Squatting down I hugged my knees to my taut chest. Yes, I had a few minutes to recreate the long-ago scene. It was one of my favorite memories so I kept the vision close to me. It’s why I loved this upper path so much.

Concentrating I brought the vivid memory into my mind. Yes, ahhh, look at them. Until I died in battle or faded into history I would never forget this tantalizing scene. When I was young I ran up this hill, halting because I heard soft odd sounds. When I crept to this low ridge I peered over, seeing a most amazing sight. Father and Glorfindel lay naked in the verdant ferns, their taut strong bodies looking like they wrested with each other. Aii, their play looked like fun.

Settling in I watched, stunned to see how Glorfindel yanked Father’s strong arms over his head. Gods, hold on, that action looked nasty. Father’s long black hair spread behind his handsome face, framing his paleness like a shimmering black wing. No, was Father losing this wrestling match? That dismal notion upset me. I didn’t like to think that Father could ever be defeated, not even by the more muscular Glorfindel. Father was never defeated!

Glorfindel suddenly arched his muscular body up toward the trees, he brutally thrusting his hips down toward Father’s tense body. Poor Father released a low long cry, his head thrashing on his elegant neck. Aii, what was Glorfindel doing to Father? Should I stop him? Was Father being hurt?

The reality suddenly struck me. Oh Gods, Glorfindel was making love to Father! How exciting! Elladan and I had talked about this fascinating subject all the time, but we were too young to put our theories into physical practice. Mother might not be pleased with us. This was a wonderful learning experience! My eager young eyes watched Glorfindel’s strong body pumping up and down, lifting, driving down, over and over with a smooth fluid rhythm. As Glorfindel worked Father thrashed and moaned, but endearments and loving encouragement whispered from his tense lips. Good, Father was having fun. That made me feel so much better.

Smiling in shock I watched for what seemed like a half hour, totally loosing myself in the deeply physical act. Finally they both released choking cries, their lithe bodies twitching and bucking. How interesting! Now that definitely looked like great fun.

After a panting Glorfindel collapsed against Father I saw Father tenderly run his fingers through Glorfindel’s long tangled golden hair. That small simple gesture filled me with such sweet warmth. Father actually enjoyed his conqueror. His long fingers tenderly stroked Glorfindel’s back. I knew all was well.

Ahhh. Shivering I blinked, returning the vision to my fond memory. Even now the long-ago day left a warm glow inside me. On that warm afternoon I learned a beautiful lesson, yes, I learned that being conquered by a lover didn’t mean being weak, because Father was one of the strongest Elves I knew. If he could stand being conquered by love then there was nothing wrong with it.

Aiii! Enough of this sweet day dreaming! Time to return to Imladris proper. I blew a kiss to the deep green glen, knowing that the spirit of that sweet coupling still lingered there. It was one of my favorite places to enjoy my Elladan since the lingering emotions heightened the sexual experience for me. Yes, when we made love in this glen I was always on the bottom. It could be no other way. I felt Father’s love touch me.

Hurry! Racing up to the top of the cliff I paused, glorying in hearing the mighty waterfall thunder down below, the water smashing into the wet black rocks scattered at the base. I always fought the bizarre urge to throw myself in and see if I survived the deadly plunge. Locating the hundreds of narrow stone steps leading down I, as usual, tried racing down them as swiftly as possible without flying into a rolling tumble. That had occurred more than once!

Ahh, I swore that each time I viewed soaring Imladris from this striking angle I wanted to cry. How did my stern powerful Father design such sheer beauty and grace? See, Father didn’t write poetry but the emotion sang in his immortal soul. I regarded Imladris as the most glorious place in all Middle Earth. I felt so proud to live here.

As I hastened along I greeted all I passed, they as usual paying me deep respect. Pausing I decided to creep up to our tree-fringed balcony. If Elladan waited up here in our bedroom I wanted to surprise him. Mounting the top step I paused, stiffening in surprise. Soft laughter and pleased gasps echoed from the open window.

Who was in our room? By the Gods I’d thrash them for daring to violate our sanctuary!

Stalking forward on the balls of my feet I hovered at the brilliant green orchid spray dripping down from the rooftop box. I loved wood orchids so I designed a series of scattered boxes, they allowing the vivid colors to spill down before our windows while keeping the roots in the nurturing sun.

More laughter sounded followed by a long deep groan. Ella.

No.

My precious Elladan was being unfaithful to me? Impossible. No! I could not accept such deadly nonsense!

Holding my breath I crept toward the open window, keeping myself hidden behind the hanging orchids. Finally I peered in the window.

Somehow I controlled my sharp gasp.

No. No!

Absolutely not. I must have gone insane. Yes, I must have fallen on those stairs and bumped my head. This sight had to be a hallucination. My right hand instinctively felt the back of my head. No bump dwelled there.

A foul fierce rage immediately hammered at me, making my steady heartbeat speed up. A rage that mixed with... jealousy? Ahh, this was a new emotion for me. I understood jealousy but now I truly experienced it, my aching soul feeling like I burned inside. It was an oddly empty yet savage emotion. I didn’t like it. I couldn’t help the emotion; why had Father chosen Elladan as his new lover? Why? Father knew how much Elladan meant to me. He knew! And even worse, why had Father not chosen me? I would have refused... wouldn’t I have? Aii, what a horrible dilemma!

No, confess, you’d be right where Elladan was now, letting your glorious beloved Father pound you back into the previous Age.

My breathing became tight and short. Ohh. Looking away my staring wide eyes examined a lovely peach and lime-hued orchid, the graceful stalk arching inches from my face. That was quite real. All right, my startled eyes truly did function.

So what I saw was real. All right, hidden poet of Imladris, what were young tng to do about this impossible scene?

For now my stunned mind could only watch. Father. Elladan. Father atop of Elladan. Elladan gasping and laughing softly as Father arched his lean hips just like my long ago memory of Glorfindel. Father driving down over and over, yes, slamming into my twin. Elladan ran his long fingers, fingers that belonged caressing against my body, down Father’s powerful back. Long black hair tangled and flowed into an endless dark river. Pale flesh merged and slid close. My acute hearing registered the quick silken rubbing created between these two gloriously firm bodies, the rubbing punctuated by urgent little slaps of flesh against flesh.

My strong young hands clenched into lethal fists.

Well, little poet?

No.

Stalking to the door I opened it, stepping in. I stood watching, my closest relations too occupied to realize that I existed; using my power also helped hide me. What an interesting angle; I watched Father’s taut ass pump up and down against Ella’s body. What a beautiful fleshy creation. Ella’s long legs now drapver ver Father’s broad shoulders. He kicked his heels in ecstasy. That meant Ella was close to eruption. I had felt that frantic drumming many a time.

I should slip out and find Glorfindel, yes, show the ancient golden one what his so-called lover was doing to his own son. Trouble was Glorfindel might shrug, laugh, strip naked and join in. Ergh, I certainly wouldn’t know how to handle that problem.

Father moved brutally, he povelyvely hammering at my twin. Ella’s panting little cries crowded into my burning ears. A hot sick excitement filled me. My eager cock instantly reacted.

No. No! NO!

Ella suddenly gasped in heightened desire, a hoarse long gasp ripping free from his slack lips. I knew that sound by heart; my twin had just hit pleasure’s height. Father’s strong body shivered before he uttered a long low sexy groan. Now I knew how Father sounded at his climax. Back at the glen I had missed that small detail; Glorfindel’s glad cries had drowned Father’s passion.

Without thinking I slowly, deliberately slammed my palms together in mocking appreciation.

Father instantly reacted, he staring over his right shoulder. His wide curious gaze met mine. Although I felt furious at this betrayal seeing Father with his naked ass pointed at me almost made me laugh. Regal Lord Elrond caught fucking his eldest son!

Yes, perfect, that crude common tongue word applied here.

Crossing my arms over my taut chest I cocked my head. "Hello, Father. Why are you fucking my lover?"

TBC