Evening exercises by Rhapsody

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Evening exercises


Disclaimer: Professor Tolkien owns all, except for my Laiquendi elf, she's mine. Story is based on the Silmarillion.

In the cool evening sun, I finally find him, standing half naked in the middle of the Esgalduin. His magnificent back is all I see and quietly I find a place on the rock to sit down upon. Beleg finishes his movements and halts for a moment, and then he places his hands on his hips while inhaling deeply. Suddenly he spreads his arms slowly, turning his head to the right and elongates his arms further while he bends his knees, sinking into the water until his raven hair touches the surface. I forget to breathe when he deepens his stance and holds this pose for a few seconds. Then, in one fluent motion he straightens his body to repeat the same to the left, never breaking his concentration. And so I watch him for a long time, the message from our King forgotten the moment I laid my eyes on him. Suddenly his warm voice shakes me out of my daydream and I look up to him, little droplets of water still cling onto him as dewdrops, dangling in early morning from the leaves in the Queens garden.

"Was it satisfactionary Tuilinn," I hear him say and when my eyes meet his, I see more than just a simple question. His grey eyes mirror his ancient longing to prolong his exercises... with me.

"This is just the beginning..." I suggest and feel his hand upon my hair, carefully directing me to his longing. Where once the water soothed my senses, his body sets me on fire. I simply cannot resist him and I wrap my hand around him until his swollen gland starts to glisten with his leaking juices. "Please allow me," I offer to him and I take him between my lips to hear him cry out in longing. Beleg's hands are firm when he pulls away my head from him and I know this is just the beginning. I pull his hand to my cheek and our eyes meet, his pupils shrinking as he focuses on me, with a need driving to the surface. He moves forward, pressing his body against me, her chest pushing against my breasts, his hands grasping my sides and he starts to tear away the fabric of my dress ending at my underwear.

"Tuilinn," he pleads to me and I nod to him. Before any more words are exchanged between us, he takes me away to his bed to come alive for one last time.

~~

Tuilinn: Sindarin for Swallow Bird.


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