Games of Pleasure

~Games of Pleasure
By: Natashya

Merry kissed Frodo on the cheek, somewhat shyly. Pippin was a little bolder – had always been bolder – and threw his arms around Frodo’s neck as he stole a kiss. Frodo smiled and pulled Pippin to him for a short while. It was obvious that Pippin appreciated the affectionate gesture, and Merry felt uneasy at this.

The uneasy feeling soon passed. As Frodo let go off Pippin, the young hobbit took Frodo’s hand in one of his and Merry’s in the other and looked expectantly at them. Frodo nodded at him and wriggled his hand out of his grip.

"Just one moment." Frodo said, and left them in the hall.

They both knew where to go. Pippin led the way to the master bedroom, being his usual happy and excited self. Merry was a bit more tentative, he used to enjoy those moments but when Pippin had unexpectedly been drawn into his and Frodo’s games they started to lose their charms. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to share Frodo, or as if his and Frodo’s moments had ever held anything more than pleasure. It was more about Pippin, the fact that he wanted to shelter Pippin from things like this, but he knew he couldn’t because Pippin was growing up and needed to be included.

They were both undressed when Frodo came back, looking rather flustered. "Sorry," he said, then lowered his voice, "Sam just arrived, I sent him out to tend to the vegetables, and most likely he will stay in the garden, but we will have to be quiet."

This prospect seemed to… amuse Pippin? Or delight him? Merry couldn’t tell, but in any case Pippin clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle, eyes glittering as he nodded. Merry nodded, too, and then sat down beside Pippin on the bed.

Frodo looked at them. "I see you’re ready?" Merry wondered if maybe Frodo would just take a seat in the chair by the fire place, and maybe he would just watch and allow Merry to have Pippin on the bed, all for himself. He very much liked that, because he was never sure if Frodo was gentle enough with their young cousin – not that Pippin ever complained – and was always so frightfully scared that Pippin would get hurt. In his mind, Pippin was still just a child – even though Pippin was well into his Tweens by now – and he had always been rather frail for a hobbit, much like Frodo, Merry noted.

Frodo might have considered just watching. But Pippin reached a hand out for him, and beckoned Frodo onto the bed, and his green eyes met Frodo’s blue in some silent conversation, or battle of minds, and Merry wondered what they were thinking.

It was Pippin who stirred first. Reaching out a small hand to caress Frodo’s cheek, a little timidly now, he whispered; "What do you want us to do, Frodo?"

Merry knew that Pippin’s change of mood would have set only one option in Frodo’s mind. While Frodo liked to watch them when Pippin was in a bashful mood – Merry would always submit to Pippin, and he guessed Frodo liked that – when Pippin was being submissive he would get involved. He liked to have both his little cousins submitting to his wishes. Pervert, Merry thought to himself.

It only took one look from Frodo for Pippin to slowly and carefully start to unbutton Frodo’s shirt. Merry just watched for a while, examining every bit of the soft pearly flesh that became visible, and he relived the feel of that skin under his hands so vividly that his cares for Pippin were suddenly gone. Pippin was here now, and there was nothing much he could do about it because Pippin had come of his own free will, and together he knew that they could pull Frodo into submission. Oh, they made a great team!

Pippin pushed Frodo backwards as the shirt came off, instantly starting on his breeches. Frodo sighed, and Merry crawled over to kiss hid tempting lips. Frodo welcomed the kiss, as always, and any traces of worry or care was wept from Merry’s mind. They were here now, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop what was happening. Merry knew that, they all knew that, so they would just have to go through with this. And he also knew once it was over neither of them would regret it.

Frodo soon lay shuddering on the bed, as Merry knew he would. Pippin was good like that, his hands and mouth would cleverly, as if by some sixth sense, find all the right places and would soon have anyone under his spell. Merry knew this because he had been on the receiving end of Pippin’s administrations often enough, and so he didn’t blame Frodo as the older hobbit slowly lost control.

Pippin had moved up to sit by Frodo’s chest now, and he was caressing and tugging a pink nipple. Frodo groaned, but this could also have been for Merry’s attention at his belly button, and then further down. It was probably a mixture of both as he bit a corner of the pillow lying by his head to stop himself from crying out.

Frodo was swaying on the edge, so, so close now. Pippin was alternating touches, caresses and kisses on his face and chest, and Merry was stroking him. It was too much, far too much and-

"Mr. Frodo, I-"The door opened. Sam stopped short in the doorway and stared at the bed, turning a deep shade of pink. For a long while, there was only a thick, shocked silence.

"Sam…" Frodo said finally as he caught his breath, his voice strained and hoarse.

"You didn’t bolt the door." Pippin whispered, slowly, his gaze travelling from Frodo, to Sam, to Merry and back to Frodo. Frodo didn’t meet his gaze, or anyone’s gaze for that matter. His cheeks were a pink that matched Sam’s.

Sam cleared his throat and shifted. "I just wanted to know, if, if maybe you’d like some tea? But seeing how you’re-"

Frodo finally looked up at him, and Sam quietened when their gazes met. "Thank you, Sam, that was very thoughtful of you," he said, his voice steadier now. "Have you finished your gardening duties?"

Sam blinked. "Yes, Sir, the garden is marvellous, really nothing more for me to do."

"Excellent," Frodo said. After a moments pause, he added, "Close the door, Sam. And bolt it."

Sam looked at him, eyes searching, but did as he was bid. He felt uneasy now; he didn’t think much of the way Mr. Frodo was looking at him.

Frodo was untangling himself from Merry and Pippin. Pippin looked disappointed as Frodo offered him a gentle kiss before getting of the bed. He sat down in the chair by the fire-place instead.

Frodo looked Sam up and down for a while. On the bed, Pippin had settled in Merry’s lap, the pair watching the events unfolding with curiosity.

"Undress." Frodo’s command was short, simple, and Sam swallowed hard. He did not protest, however, and slowly started to shed his clothes. Frodo’s eyes were on him the whole time as he did so, surveying his broad shoulders, his muscular arms, and his tanned chest… all off him. When Sam had removed everything Frodo beckoned him over onto his lap.

Pippin got bored now, and turned his attention to Merry. He pushed him over and kissed him - deep and craving, making Merry gasp – and rubbed his body against Merry’s. Merry was the one loosing control now.

Frodo smiled at Sam, suddenly realising how handsome the young gardener was. Sam smiled back, hesitantly, slowly letting the fact settle in his mind that he had wanted to do this for a long time. Frodo’s arms encircled him, and pulled him close, and suddenly Frodo’s lips were on his and Sam sank further into submission; but the lust also made him bolder and he let his hands wander, searching Frodo’s perfect - to Sam, anyway - body.

Merry gasped for breath as Pippin’s lips left his. Pippin moved downwards, nipping at Merry’s neck, and then finding a nipple he grazed it carefully with his teeth. Merry moaned and his fingers caught hold of Pippin’s hair, tugging gently as Pippin moved onto the other nipple.

Frodo caught Sam’s hand, the one that was travelling over his stomach, and brought it down onto his own erection. Sam hesitated for a short while, and then began careful, rhythmic strokes, relishing in the obvious pleasure this brought Frodo. Frodo was shivering, and panting, his warm breath tickling Sam’s neck as Frodo’s head rested heavily against his shoulder. Frodo closed his eyes, surrendering to Sam’s touch.

Pippin was engaged in his task of kissing and nibbling every inch of skin on Merry’s chest. Merry was trembling beneath him, thrusting hopelessly against Pippin as their erections rubbed together. He could take no more of this and he came, crying out as his hands gripped Pippin’s hair harshly. Pippin climaxed seconds later.

Merry’s cry mingled with Frodo’s, the latter’s fingers digging into Sam’s back as he came. Sam found himself climaxing from the thought that he had been able to bring Frodo so much pleasure.

All four of them collapsed, Pippin on top of Merry on the bed, and Sam and Frodo in a heap on the chair, drained and gasping for air.

Frodo was the first to speak. Running his fingers tenderly through Sam’s hair, he smiled. "Now, Sam, I don’t know about Merry and Pip, but I should like some tea."

Sam looked at him, and then smiled boldly back. "Now, Mr. Frodo, if you’ll excuse me I don’t think tea is what you need now. A bath would probably be more appropriate."

At the mention of a bath, Pippin jumped off the bed, pulling Merry with him. "Yes!" He exclaimed, "You’re so right, Sam. A bath is just what we need. Come on, Merry, let’s prepare the water!"

As the two went off, Frodo smiled wickedly at Sam. "You do know, Sam, that there are only two bath-tubs…" He winked and pulled the un-resisting gardener with him towards the bath-room.

THE END