Liquid Dreams
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,488
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,488
Reviews:
0
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.
Liquid Dreams
Disclaimer: Need we go through this again? I don't own anything, so you don't want to sue me, really you don't. All you'll get is one very angry fiancee. And he won't do you any good, I assure you that.
*************
Liquid Dreams
Glorfindel woke, shuddering at the memory of his dreams. He had dreamt he was visited that night, by someone, and only after he had been given release twice was he able to see who his mate was. The long, golden curtain of hair had hidden the elf's identity, but he had still awoken in shock when he saw it was himself.
Still, the Balrog-slayer was painfully hard, his aching erection pressing against his stomach, reminding him of his needs. He closed his eyes, and lay back down onto his pillow, but he could not get the lingering feeling of arousal to leave him in peace. When he at last relapsed into the land of dreams, his hand--gone unnoticed by its owner--slid down his chest, trailing across his nipples, teasing them to pert hardness. The elf's face contorted with pleasure, his eyes widening impossibly when he grasped his own length. His hands worked up and down along the veined column, coaxing a drop of translucent fluid from the slit in the head. Glorfindel thrust his hips up into his hands, caressing himself with strong, calloused hands.
In the dream, Glorfindel's double self ghosted his lips over the other's erection, breathing lightly along all its length. The ghost image bent forward, and swallowed his lover's member, pressing his lips to the base to prevent the elf coming too soon. His golden hair fell over his face, hiding it from view, tickling Glorfindel's chest and belly. He strained up, forcing himself deeper into his lover's warm, wet mouth, his thighs flexing with his movements.
His hands played over his member, fondling the sacs below, all the while spreading his seed over the entire length. One hand moved away from his unrestrained arousal, tickling a path around the elf-lord's hip to his entrance. There, he pressed against the small opening, forcing one finger inside himself. Glorfindel gasped, opening his mouth in an expression of unbridled lust. His slender hips pushed upward, trying to connect with their imaginary double.
In his dream, Glorfindel watched as his dream-twin prepared him, scissoring two, then three, fingers inside him, stretching the rim of muscle. The mouth had not left his cock, and still kissed it, teasing the tip with its tongue, lapping up the pearly drops of the elf's essence. His torturer rose up onto his knees then, pulling Glorfindel's hips forward so his backside met his double's erection. Glorfindel thrashed wildly, trying to bring his achingly hard organ into contact with his lover's.
He was entered suddenly, clenching his legs about his dream-lover's hips, pulling himself closer, impaling himself on his own fingers. He brushed over the small spot inside himself, letting wave after wave of pleasure roll over him. His other hand stroked his erection, milking the stiff flesh as he came into his hands.
As his release flooded his senses, Glorfindel whispered into the night, "You are like smoke, slipping through my fingers whenever I try to catch you. You torment me so, my love. My liquid dream." And he slipped into oblivion, letting his dreams conquer him with the last of his words.
*************
Liquid Dreams
Glorfindel woke, shuddering at the memory of his dreams. He had dreamt he was visited that night, by someone, and only after he had been given release twice was he able to see who his mate was. The long, golden curtain of hair had hidden the elf's identity, but he had still awoken in shock when he saw it was himself.
Still, the Balrog-slayer was painfully hard, his aching erection pressing against his stomach, reminding him of his needs. He closed his eyes, and lay back down onto his pillow, but he could not get the lingering feeling of arousal to leave him in peace. When he at last relapsed into the land of dreams, his hand--gone unnoticed by its owner--slid down his chest, trailing across his nipples, teasing them to pert hardness. The elf's face contorted with pleasure, his eyes widening impossibly when he grasped his own length. His hands worked up and down along the veined column, coaxing a drop of translucent fluid from the slit in the head. Glorfindel thrust his hips up into his hands, caressing himself with strong, calloused hands.
In the dream, Glorfindel's double self ghosted his lips over the other's erection, breathing lightly along all its length. The ghost image bent forward, and swallowed his lover's member, pressing his lips to the base to prevent the elf coming too soon. His golden hair fell over his face, hiding it from view, tickling Glorfindel's chest and belly. He strained up, forcing himself deeper into his lover's warm, wet mouth, his thighs flexing with his movements.
His hands played over his member, fondling the sacs below, all the while spreading his seed over the entire length. One hand moved away from his unrestrained arousal, tickling a path around the elf-lord's hip to his entrance. There, he pressed against the small opening, forcing one finger inside himself. Glorfindel gasped, opening his mouth in an expression of unbridled lust. His slender hips pushed upward, trying to connect with their imaginary double.
In his dream, Glorfindel watched as his dream-twin prepared him, scissoring two, then three, fingers inside him, stretching the rim of muscle. The mouth had not left his cock, and still kissed it, teasing the tip with its tongue, lapping up the pearly drops of the elf's essence. His torturer rose up onto his knees then, pulling Glorfindel's hips forward so his backside met his double's erection. Glorfindel thrashed wildly, trying to bring his achingly hard organ into contact with his lover's.
He was entered suddenly, clenching his legs about his dream-lover's hips, pulling himself closer, impaling himself on his own fingers. He brushed over the small spot inside himself, letting wave after wave of pleasure roll over him. His other hand stroked his erection, milking the stiff flesh as he came into his hands.
As his release flooded his senses, Glorfindel whispered into the night, "You are like smoke, slipping through my fingers whenever I try to catch you. You torment me so, my love. My liquid dream." And he slipped into oblivion, letting his dreams conquer him with the last of his words.