Rating: Overall: NC-17.
Disclaimers: Not true. . .blah, blah, blah. Tolkien's characters are his own, I just get them dirty.
Summary: Yay, more smut.
Archive: Gay Shagging Cats.
A/N: Blatant Mary Sue. Horribly written. The only reasons the het seks isn't disgusting are: 1) I'm the OFC. 2) It's humour.
A/N 2: You know, I’m not really this pervy in real life. Oh, who am I kidding? This is a Mary Sue, which means it’s an exact representation of what I really am. Perfectly sexy and gorgeous. Yeah.
Previous Instalments can be found here.
Hi! Yes, I realise it has been months and months since I updated this sodding thing. So, here we go.
Once again, this is humour. Or it is meant to be. If you’re a Tolkien purist, you won’t like it. Then again, if you’re a Tolkien purist, you probably aren’t reading.
I’ve never written het before writing this story. I hate it! Boy/Girl Seks isn’t really my cuppa, so bear with me here.
And Elvish is in brackets.
Part Thirteen: Double Your Pleasure. Or Not.
“Milady, would you be so kind as to turn over on your knees, please? I find it would be much easier for Elladan to get in behind me that way.”
“Anything you say, you sexy bugger you,” Sonja replied, getting on her hands and knees. “I like it this way.”
Elrohir positioned himself behind Sonja, and slid slowly into her. She could not help but moan at the sensation of him filling her. He was quite well-endowed.
“You like that, do you?” Elrohir gripped Sonja’s hips, and pulled her tight against him. “[Elladan, love,]” he called back to his twin, “[are you ready?]”
“[As ready as ever, my brother.]” Elladan answered. He was just about to push into Elrohir when a cry rang out through the trees. Startled, Elladan collapsed on the grass. Elrohir withdrew from Sonja and did the same. When Sonja looked up, Legolas was standing on a rock a few feet in front of her.
“Milady,” Legolas said, his tone stern, “gather your things and come with me.”
“And who the bloody hell do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do!” Sonja sat cross-legged and folded her arms over her chest. She had either forgotten or didn’t care that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
“You leave me no choice,” Legolas sighed, readying his bow and aiming an arrow directly at Sonja. “As much as it pains me to have to draw a weapon on you, I feel it is the only way to get your cooperation. Now, please, my love, get dressed.”
Elladan and Elrohir sat in stunned silence as Sonja stood, gathered her clothing, and dressed with Legolas’ practised aim on her every move. They doubted he would actually shoot her, but it was an effective way to get her attention. When Sonja had dressed, Legolas dropped his bow and took her by the wrist. He muttered something at the twins, and led his captive back toward mainmain part of Rivendell.
“You didn’t have to make me look so fucking stupid, you know.”
“Ah, but Milady, you’ve got it backward. You are the one that made me look foolish.” Legolas let go of Sonja’s wrist and sat on a stump. “It is not proper for a married Elf to dally with others.”
“But I’m not an Elf, you wanker. I’m human. And you can’t be serious about this married bit.”
“I forget that you are not of the Fair Folk, for your beauty far surpasses any human girl I have seen. Although it is when you open your mouth, and such harsh words come forth that I am reminded that you are not of this land.”
“Legolas,” Sonja whispered, leaning down to the seated Elf. Her warm breath across his cheek sent blood to his loins, and his eyelids fluttered shut.
“Yes, my love,” he whispered back.
In a voice loud enough to draw Orcs from a hundred leagues away, she replied, “I am not your fucking wife!” Then she walked away, leaving Legolas sitting on the stump with his ears ringing.
“[How wrong you are, Milady. You’ll see eventually.]” Legolas stood, shook his head a bit, and headed back to his chamber.
To be continued . . .