On Fire (Théo/Éomer)
Dec. 29th, 2005 11:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlÉomer: When we parted after the last time Théo and I were here together, he handed me the engraved steel ring and told me to hide it somewhere at Karl's house where Karl would not find it. I was afraid that Karl would start one of his periodic house cleaning impulses, so I put it in the tack room, thinking that it could be mistaken for part of a harness. I wrapped a leather strap around it and put it at the bottom of the chest. I had just enough time to exit the barn before Karl was pushing insistently against my mind. He has rarely been eager to come back of late and I wondered what had changed. My curiosity about Théo's plans for the ring and Karl's behavior kept me speculating through the long nights of patrol in the East Mark.
But now I am back in Wellington and I am attempting to obey Théo's further instructions. Karl . . . I stop him before he disappears. I can feel his question in my head. I am to use the telephone device again to tell Théo when I arrive. Now his amusement echoes in my mind and he tells me to clean my own mess up this time. His humour surprises me and once again, I wonder at it. But he helps me dial and then he fades away as the tones of an odd-sounding bell fill my ear.
"Théo," I say, your husky voice sending shivers down my back as you answer.
Théo: Paris felt weary when we passed as I shifted in and I suspect he has been working too hard again. I find further evidence of this in the kitchen, as Dave always stocks the cupboards for him when he does not have the time himself, and this usually includes the nut flavoured coffee Dave favours. As I wait for the phone to ring, I make a pot, and sit with my hands around the mug, drinking in the aroma before sipping on the drink itself.
A smile curls round my lips as I answer and hear your voice and I take the phone with me as I wander through to the softer chairs, the coffee forgotten for now.
“Mer.” I purr into the handset. “It is good to hear your voice. Do you have the ring?”
Éomer: It seems my curiosity will be satisfied soon, along with my other cravings, and another shiver comes over me, at the thought, and this time my cock begins to fill. And I am wondering why you insisted that I communicate with you in this manner, instead of you coming to Karl's house as soon as you shifted. I know you are planning something, and the idea that you put so much thought into our lovemaking excites me almost unbearably.
"It is in the tack room. Karl . . . " I am not sure how to describe his mood, because I do not know the cause of it. He has been odd for months now and I almost pity anyone who must live with his ever-changing personality. "It seemed the safest place to hide it from him. I shall retrieve it."
The device continues to work as I walk to the barn and I tell you how I have missed you.
Théo: Your voice and your words warm me and I stretch my legs out and rest my feet on the low table in front of the couch, letting my head fall back against the cushions. After a handful of hard days patrolling, it is not difficult to take advantage of the peace and quiet this world can provide I know that I will be with you soon, and have looked forward to carrying out my plan for today since I saw you last.
The tack room? I am intrigued and wonder where exactly you hid it, although it would have blended in well with the other metal trappings there. There is a scrape of wood as the barn door is pulled open in the background.
“I know you must have been curious as to its purpose, so I will tell you. It is for you to wear, in a similar manner to the leather one you wore last time.”
Éomer: Your words send a roll of heat through me, remembering what you did to me the last time we were together. Pulling the telephone away from my ear, I dig in the chest until I find the carved ring, fortunately undisturbed and I unwrap it. It is as I have remembered it, although it seems too large to serve the same purpose as the leather one, and I wonder if you misjudged my size.
"I have found it, Théo, although I believe that it is too big for me." There is a question in my voice.
Théo: My smile widens and I stretch a little more, palming my erection through my jeans. “Oh, it will be a perfect fit, my stallion.”
My rigid flesh throbs against my hand as I think of how it will look. “But it cannot be fitted if your cock is hard.” I lower my voice, and ask questions designed to torment you. “Are you hard, Mer? Do you ache for my touch?”
Éomer: There can be only one answer to either question and I believe that you know it full well. But this must be part of your plans for my pleasure and the sure knowledge of that brings a gasp to my lips.
"Always hard for you, Théo. My head is swollen and slick, and the sound of your voice is bringing fresh moisture with every throb of my blood. Always ache for you. But I am confined in these breeches and you are not here to release me."
My voice is taking a pleading tone, but I cannot help it. You know me so well, know my every reaction and you drive the very sanity from my senses with your play.
Théo: I groan as I think of you hard and dripping, the needy tone in your voice sending a heavy tremor of desire through me.
“Undo your breeches and take your hardness in hand.” There is the sound of a zipper being pulled down, then you are back with me.
“Work it slowly, listen to my voice and come when you are ready.” Orders, commands fall naturally from my lips. The fingers of my free hand slip inside my shirt and tug on the black nipple ring, making me hiss and squirm. “I want you, Mer, want your mouth on me, want to feel your wet tongue wrapped around my hard flesh …”
Éomer: I am still standing in the silence of the barn, but I do not care. You have proven to me that I have no shame where you are concerned and no inhibitions. I try to keep my strokes slow, but your voice has ever been my undoing. I groan, wanting you in my mouth as you have described . . . . "I want you down my throat, taking my mouth."
Your moans are matching my own, stripping me of my control and my hand increases speed, and I come, shouting your name and shooting my seed over my fingers and onto the soft dirt in the barn.
Théo: A tingle runs up my spine and up across my scalp at the sound of my name wrenched from your lips and my back arches off the couch. I deny myself release, but not for long. I will see you soon enough, and then I will satisfy my desires. Your breathing slows, and I find myself almost nuzzling the phone that has become wedged in the crook of my neck as I listen, the need to be close to you warring with the intent to have you craving my touch by the time I arrive.
It is time to put the ring on, and knowing your insatiability, I sincerely hope that you will stay soft enough during the procedure to actually get it in place. “Mer, when you are ready, pull the skin of your sac through the ring, then ease your balls through it one at a time.”
Éomer: I lean against a rough wooden wall, getting my breath back. The ring is no longer in my hand, and I look around, finally seeing it on the floor where I dropped it. I pick it up and polish against my clothes, seeing how beautiful it is and knowing that you picked it to adorn me gives me a feeling of being cherished.
Following your instructions, I slide my balls through and then push my softened shaft through, bending it and wincing as the sensitised skin scrapes on the metal. I look down at myself, intrigued at the look of the shining steel against my skin and hair.
"It is in place." And I wonder what you will ask of me next.
Théo: “Good.” In my mind’s eye I have a clear picture of what it will look like, nestled in your coarse hair, but I know the reality will be even better. And I want you to feel it. Feel the intimate fit, feel the weight of it as you walk, feel your body reacting to it’s presence until you can think only of it and that you wear it for me.
“Before I arrive, I want you to make sure there is a comfortable stall ready in the barn for … afterwards.” A wicked grin grows on my face at what you must be thinking. “I will meet you out there when I arrive, my love. I will not be too long.”
Clicking the phone off, I get to my feet, groaning as I stretch my arms above my head and then wander through the warehouse. Picking up my jacket and pack and locking up behind me before getting Leelu out of her shed, I contemplate a slow ride to Karl’s and feel a shiver of anticipation at the thought of seeing you.
Éomer: It starts almost as an itch, a feeling I cannot describe, but it is an awareness of the heavy piece of metal confining me as I move. I try to ignore it as I go back to the tack room to find some heavy blankets to spread over the straw in the empty stall. But the feeling grows and soon, against my will I am hard again.
Clothes are an irritation and the season here has turned warm again, so I remove them and lay down on the blanket, waiting for you with more and more impatience. Hurry, Théo. I want to touch myself, and though I try to resist, I cannot, and I run a curious finger along the rim of the ring.
Théo: As soon as I park up, I unfasten my helmet and leave it on the seat of the bike before walking towards the open barn door, pulling off my jacket as I stride across the yard. I drop it just inside the barn, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the softer light.
Then I see you, naked and waiting for me, golden hair, golden skin and a glint of silver in the thatch from which your hardness rises. You look at me as your fingers move over metal and skin
“Mer …” It comes out low and throaty, and I walk slowly towards you, dropping the pack and pulling of my shirt as my hungry eyes rake over your body.
Éomer: You are here at last and I wonder if I should feel bad for my inability to resist touching myself, but the heat in your eyes tells me otherwise. I curve my chest towards you, raising my arms above my head and spreading my legs, showing myself and your gift to you.
A low growl rises from my throat as I watch you remove your clothes. I make no move to help you, enjoying the sight of you stripping for me. You are hard for me already and I lick my lips, wanting to taste you.
Théo: My cock jumps, throbbing at the sight of you wantonly displaying yourself for me. Now naked, I drop to one knee beside you, lust plain on my face at the throaty purr rumbling through your chest. I draw my fingers lightly up the tender skin of your exposed inner thigh.
“Every night since we were last together, the thought of you wearing this ring has kept me warm.” They move higher, trailing through soft hair until they reach the ring. The metal is warm and my fingers play over it, slipping onto skin and along your hard flesh.
My touch is firmer as it moves up over your stomach and you arch into it. “I want you on your knees sucking me, and then I am going to take you … hard … “ My fingers reach your nipples and scrape over the ringless one. “And you will not be given permission to come until much later it. But first …” My fingers slide up your neck and into your hair as my smile widens. “I have missed your touch.” I slide my body over yours as you grab me and our lips finally meet.
Éomer: Sinking into the familiar pleasure of your kiss, I wrap my legs around you, pulling you closer. Your scent fills my nose, along with the smells of the barn, straw and horse. But it feels like home, here with you.
I want to taste every part of you and I remember our so recent conversation on the telephone. I want you in my mouth, spurting your seed while I swallow it greedily. "I want you, to swallow you." I grab your hair, pulling your head up.
Théo: My eyes darken and narrow at the pressure on my hair as you pull me away and I look down at you. Need pools in my belly at the look on your face, my long denied release demanding attention.
“Do it.” My voice is low and I turn my head, nipping your wrist before pushing myself back and onto my feet. My fingers itch to dig into your hair and my cock is leaking and throbbing in anticipation. “Make me come.”
Éomer: I sit up eagerly, growling as I follow your movement, not giving you enough time to stand up fully before I seize you, grabbing your hardness roughly before I can stop myself. But I slow down, gentle caresses along your length, my lips following across your silky shaft. I want your cock every place in me that you can fit it, starting with my mouth.
Curling my tongue around you, I swipe up the moisture at the tip, pointing my tongue into your slit before I jerk your hips forward to send you into my mouth as deeply as I can take you, working you in until your curls tickle my nose. I hold you there, the sensation of you filling me so satisfying that I could stay like this for as long as you would let me. But then I begin to move, long, slow strokes that I know will drive you beyond control eventually.
Théo: My gasp of surprise when you grasp me turns into a groan as you lick me, and my hands dig into your hair, my own falling forward around my face as I gaze down at the sight of your lips stretched around my cock as you devour me.
My stomach muscles tighten with each long slow pull of your mouth, my hips bucking forward against your grip, trying to increase your maddening pace. As I get closer, my hands tighten in your hair to pull you off me so I can take you, but you look up at me, hazel eyes flashing, tongue swirling around my cock as you work it and that is forgotten. I want to come with the feel of your tongue on me.
Your slow pace keeps me balanced on the edge, every muscle in my body tense, stretching it out until I reach breaking point and release hits me. My back arches with the force of it, my head snaps back, and I spurt down your throat with a cry, fingers still buried in your hair.
Éomer: Sitting back on my haunches, I look up at you, my tongue flicking out to get the drops at the side of my mouth, purring happily at the taste of your seed. As your eyes come back into focus, I push my face back into your groin, my nose into your hair, breathing in the scent of your musk, feeling excitement flowing through me.
Another sensation, this time it is the ring around my cock and I have grown hard again. My veins seem to pulse against it and I am alarmed for a moment, wondering how it will possibly come off in the end, but then I relax against you again, sure that you will have a solution. Your hands in my hair have gentled, and I rub against you, ready for what will happen next.
Théo: The feel of you nuzzling my groin as I relax back against the stall, happy and sated, is a truly pleasant one and I let my fingers lazily play through your hair, encouraging it for a while longer. With a contented sigh, I tighten my fingers a little, easing your head back
“Mer, there are two things in the side pocket of the pack I brought.” It is sitting where I dropped it, just behind where you now kneel. “I want you to get them for me.”
Éomer: The pack is behind me, I had not noticed it before. I open it curiously and smile at the sight of the ever-present lotion that I have never known you to be without. The other item is truly perplexing.
It is of black hardened material like the tires on the vehicles here and looks like a very large spear-head, though it is blunted. It has a heft in my hand, very solid. I look at you, my confusion clear on my face.
"Is it a weapon?"
Théo: “No, my love, it is not a weapon.” I smile, but softly. I know your innocence of these games and pleasures, despite which you never have any hesitation in putting yourself into my hands. It is something that makes my desire for you burn even higher, to think that I am the one to show you these things.
I squat down in front of you and take the tube, opening it and squeezing out a fair amount of the lube onto my fingers. Then I smear it over the plug in your hand as you watch. Unlike the glass ones that a discrete merchant from Minas Tirith brings to Edoras now and then, this is made of a material that is warm to the touch.
“I will show you what it is for.” I kiss you, wondering if you have guessed its purpose yet. “Get onto your hands and knees for me, Mer.”
Éomer: My eyes widen as you spread the lotion over the device, and I swallow softly. I do not need to be told what it is for now, but it seems overly large. But I remember that I was able to take your whole hand, and how gentle and careful you were with me then. And I trust you, so I do as you ask.
I cannot stop the slight tremble of nervous anticipation, but your hand on my back soothes me and the nerves disappear and I am left with only eagerness. I bow my back, shifting my legs apart, ready.
Théo: Two slicked fingers circle your entrance before I push them inside your heat, scissoring them, stretching you. My cock jumps, already wakening, and I thrust deeper as you push back against me. I ease them out and run the plug down your cleft to get you used to the feel of it before I begin to ease it inside.
You moan as it begins to slip inside you, and I twist it, pushing a little deeper each time, pulling it out and teasing you with it before pushing it further in. Your back arches as your body takes more of it and I keep my hand on the small of your back, watching with fascination as it enters your body. It is stretching you further now, and I angle it to push against the spot inside that makes you gasp and move beneath my hand. “It is almost in, Mer. Relax and breathe out.”
Éomer: I feel as though I'm being split open, but you twist the thing until it brushes the spot inside me, sending sparks of pleasure from the place where you are breaching me. I pant, not sure that it will fit, when finally the largest part slides into me and I can breathe again. But I feel full, impossibly full and stretched, and I start trembling, the motions of my body sending it pushing against my inner walls and I gasp in shock at the feeling.
Looking back over my shoulder, I meet your eyes. I know that mine are wide and uncertain and I cling to the expression of lust in yours, knowing that what I do is pleasing you.
Théo: My desire rises at the way your body reacts to the heavy black plug as it slips inside you. Your eyes are more hesitant though, and I smile reassuringly before bending to plant a kiss on the base of your spine as my hands move on your skin. They move over your cheeks, stroking, caressing, then down the backs of your thighs, tracing muscles that quiver under my touch. Slipping round, they roam up the front of your legs, fingers of one hand wrapping around your cock, smearing the moisture leaking from it over the head as I work it with long smooth strokes.
Curling over you, I slip my arm round your chest, kissing your shoulder blades as I ease you backwards. I know that you will feel the pressure shifting inside you with every movement, and murmur against your skin. “Sit back on your heels, Mer, slowly.”
Éomer: These new sensations within me have me trembling, desire spiking through me and warring with the strangeness of it all. Your arm wrapped around me steadies me and reassures me, and I let myself give in to the pleasure. The weight moves as you pull me into position, sending jolts to my cock which has filled again completely and now other sensations register. The steel ring confining my shaft is another point of pressure on me and you have removed my control of my body from with these devices. My body responds to your will now, not mine. I feel heavy, full and on edge. I want to beg for something, but I do not know what.
Your touch is all that keeps me still as I pant around the conflicting sensations.
Théo: Kneeling behind you, I give your cock one last tug before releasing it and letting my hands wander over your body. You are so hot to the touch, and my fingers map the contours of your chest as I rub myself against your back, erection pressed against your spine. When my fingers come to rest on your nipples, tight and hard and begging to be tormented, my nails graze over them and I growl softly against your shoulder as you writhe.
As you arch, I bury my face in your hair, moving it to one side with my cheek, and your scent fills me as I nuzzle your neck, drinking it in before biting down on the soft place where it meets your shoulder. The feel of you under my hands, the smell and now the taste of you make me groan as I suck the salt from your skin, leaving first one, then two perfect marks. My marks on your skin. My hips thrust against you at the thought, leaving a sticky trail on your back and I ease away, putting just enough distance between us to slip my hand down over your buttocks, lingering a moment before nudging the base of the plug. Before you even have a chance to gasp, my arm slips around your waist, holding you with my fingers splayed against your taut stomach, while I move the plug in slow circles deep inside.
Éomer: You torment me with that thing you have placed inside me, and every movement brushes against the bud behind my cock, flooding me with sensation. I whimper and try to reach you, wanting to touch you, but you frustrate my efforts, staying behind me and teasing me further.
"Please, let me . . . " My voice is shaky with need, need to come, need to be released from these feelings drowning in me. But I know that in your hands I will find more pleasure than I have ever dreamed, and once again, I give up fighting against what you are doing to me and let myself experience this without question. So I spread my legs and tilt my buttocks into your hand, silently asking for more.
Théo: You push back against me and I give you what you desire, tugging on it, pushing it, working it until heavy shudders wrack your body. I let go and stroke your back until the trembling subsides, easing you back from the edge, letting the sensations ebb and flow before taking you further. And I wonder how much it will take to make you come with the ring in place.
I rock back onto my heels and then up onto my feet, trailing my fingers over your shoulder as I move to stand in front of you. My hand slips down your cheek, tilting your face up. Your eyes are filled with a yearning for release, but there is more I want from you before I can allow that.
“On your feet, Mer, hands behind your back.” It takes a moment as the thing inside you shifts, and once you are standing, I press myself up against you, pushing my fingers into your hair and groaning in to your mouth as my chest slides against yours, knowing how much you want to touch me.
Éomer: Every movement sets off fresh tremors from inside my body, and I am nearly shaking with it. My mouth opens greedily for yours, wanting more contact with you, wanting you everywhere, frustration rising at the restrictions you are imposing. I thrust my chest out, my nipple ring catching and slipping against your sweaty skin, not nearly as much as I need, but the sensation has me moaning.
Théo: Digging my hands in your hair I pull back, before kissing you one more time. “Turn around and stand closer to the wall. Put your hands on it above your head to brace yourself.”
Éomer: Your command gives me hope that you will take me at last and end this torment. Pleasure dances along my skin and the feel of the rough boards of the stall under my palms add more sensations to the others threatening to overwhelm me. My entire body is dancing to the tune that you call.
I lock my muscles and wait for what you will do next.
Théo: As you move into position, I take another item from the pack. Its handle fits my hand well, heavy and well made and the thick suede tails still have the sharp tang of newly worked leather. I run it over your shoulder, letting you feel it, letting you get the scent of it. “Trust me, my stallion.”
Made to thud against your skin, not sting, the marks it leaves will be subtle, but for a short time, you will wear them, taken willingly, and again the thought has my cock jumping with anticipation.
As I sat drinking coffee earlier, I could not help but think on the practicalities of what I intend to do. There is care to be taken here, not just of you although that is the most important thing, to gauge when you reach that peak, when your body sings for release. To keep you hovering there in a haze of pleasure before letting you fall in the sure knowledge I am here to catch you. Not only that, but if the blows are too hard, if they leave signs that do not fade before you leave tomorrow, it could have consequences. I love you and want to show you things that you have obviously never experienced, but cannot see Karl accepting any signs of this left on his body. So I must tread a fine line between our pleasure and his wrath.
I trail the tails across the small of your back, and you arch and shift against them.
And it comes upon me again, that what I do to you here … I could not accept any other doing the same. I know this is something that you would not do with another, that you keep for me, but a fierce possessiveness grips me if I think of that. The growl comes unbidden as I twist your hair into a rope and push it over your shoulder, letting it fall down your chest and baring your back to me.
“Mine.” If anyone else ever raised a hand to you I would kill them and yet here I am, about to beat you myself. The boy I helped raise to manhood, who I would protect with my life, even though I know you are more than capable of defending yourself. You wait impatiently in front of me ready for anything that I would do to you, your trust in me so absolute that there is nothing you would deny me.
Nothing.
The shiver of pleasure that trickles though me is as deep and dark as my desires, and I take a breath, letting it out as the first blow lands on your skin.
Éomer: The leather trails over my body, and I shiver, knowing that you intend to use it on me, and that does not disturb me, knowing how much you care for me. But I know that you will force me to wait for release and I groan, wanting you so badly.
The leather hits my skin, sending pain radiating from the point of contact, but as I flinch the heavy thing inside me moves and the pain changes to pleasure. And then every time you hit me the mixture of pain and pleasure makes me dizzy, and I am moaning for you.
Théo: My desire rises with each sound that I pull from you and your skin begins to redden as I work. After several blows, your back, your shoulders glow and I pause to run my hand over the heat, your flesh quivering beneath it, the contact making you hiss. I step back, and land another handful on your buttocks, each one carefully placed, and I watch your reactions intently. I have to push aside the urge to snap the tails against your backside, offered up as it is by the tilt of your hips and the groan from your lips, for fear of marking you too deeply. I stop to admire my handiwork, and reach down, grasping the base of the plug and twisting it, needing to hear your voice. “Tell me what you want, Mer.”
Éomer: My entire back is heated under your blows. It is no longer pain, but a spreading warmth, and every strike against me sends bolts of pleasure from my center. My cock is constrained by the ring, but still leaking.
You are speaking to me and I cannot understand your words, so lost am I in this world you are making for me. I finally shake free of the trance of desire where I have been held and realise what you are asking me.
"You, Théo. I want you. Take me, claim me." I moan. "Take your pleasure in my body." I thrust back towards you, intending to leave you in no doubt as to my needs.
Théo: I run my hand over your inflamed skin. “Six more, and I will take you. I want you to count them out loud.” Taking a step back, I bring the flogger down, each blow harder than the last, using your voice as a gauge to your reactions, and ever mindful of the limits which must be observed here, ignoring the blood pounding through me that almost demands more.
Éomer: I can endure anything if it means that you will claim my body soon. The blows barely reach me as I count, waiting for you to enter me, to end this teasing and torment. The pain means nothing to me, other than as proof of what I will give to you and I hope you understand that it is not the physical sensations of this that drive me wild, but the knowledge that you take so much pleasure in it.
"Six," I say, panting now, wanting you so badly. "Please, Théo."
Théo: The edge of desperation in your voice has my own need clawing at me, and I cast the flogger away, running my hands over your hot skin. My cock throbs, leaking freely but first the plug needs to come out. I take hold of the base of it, putting my other hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Push down, Mer.”
Éomer: You draw the thing out of me slowly and steadily, and I almost whine when it is gone. I had gotten accustomed to the pressure inside me, the delightful feel of being so stretched, the teasing torment of it. But I am so open and ready for you, fully prepared and aching for you to enter me.
Your hand is still on me, slowly stroking my flanks and I lean into the touch, hoping you will now take your pleasure in my body.
Théo: With one slow thrust, I bury myself in you to the hilt, my head falling forward as a drawn out moan escapes me. Your back hollows as I enter you, and your head drops back, freeing your hair to cascade down over reddened skin. For a long moment, I simply savour the sight of you and the sensation of being buried in your tight heat, gripping your hips, but I cannot stay still for long. Pressing against you I begin to move with long strokes and my hand slips round your waist, fingers grazing over your cock, skimming the metal that holds it and I run my thumb across the weeping slit. Your body jerks, the sounds I am pulling from you making my spine tingle and my fingers close around your hard flesh, moving it in time with every thrust into your body.
Éomer: I moan low and ragged when you finally enter me after all this time you have made me wait. Nothing compares to the feeling of your flesh in mine. Your cock inside me, your hand on my shaft, sparks fly from every place you touch me. But the ring you placed on me is binding me tighter as my excitement grows and I well remember your command that I not come. You pound into me endlessly and I keep twisting higher.
"Please, Théo, let me come." And I no longer care that I'm begging, I am desperate for release.
Théo: Groaning, I grasp your hip tighter, one, two more thrusts, and I am almost there, but I want to feel you clench around me, need to feel you let go. “Come for me.” Words growled out as I hover on the edge, breath ragged, so, so close …
Éomer: I struggle to obey your much-desired command, but the ring is interfering. I concentrate on the feelings building in me, on your hand roughly stroking me and it happens at last. And I feel as though I am pouring out everything inside of me through my cock as long-denied orgasm crashes into me. It goes on and on, and my head becomes light as you hold me through it, your hands and voice anchoring me to the earth.
Théo: A cry wrenches from me as you come, your body gripping mine so tightly that it pulls my orgasm from me. My hips jerk forward again and again as my seed spurts from me, yours pumping out over my hand, then my arm tightens around you as I shudder through it, your name on my lips over and over until my head begins to clear.
I hold you for a moment, kissing your back, but I can feel the tremors running through you, and reluctantly pull out, easing you away from the wall of the stall, and back towards the blankets.
Éomer: My feet stumble as you guide me, my body still vibrating from the pleasure that ripped through me. I am tired as though I have been in a battle, and I lay down gratefully, but the rough horse blankets scratch the tender skin of my back, so with a wince, I roll to my belly. I hold out a hand to you, wanting you beside me.
I am tired and sated and I want nothing more than to sleep.
Théo: I tangle my fingers with yours, joining you on the blanket. I move you onto your side to ease the ring off, then let you settle, stroking your hair. “Sleep here for a while, love.” My hand slips down onto your neck. “When you are rested, we can return to the house and I will tend to you.” I curl up close to you, your hand in mine, and watch as you fall asleep.
Hard NC-17!!!
But now I am back in Wellington and I am attempting to obey Théo's further instructions. Karl . . . I stop him before he disappears. I can feel his question in my head. I am to use the telephone device again to tell Théo when I arrive. Now his amusement echoes in my mind and he tells me to clean my own mess up this time. His humour surprises me and once again, I wonder at it. But he helps me dial and then he fades away as the tones of an odd-sounding bell fill my ear.
"Théo," I say, your husky voice sending shivers down my back as you answer.
Théo: Paris felt weary when we passed as I shifted in and I suspect he has been working too hard again. I find further evidence of this in the kitchen, as Dave always stocks the cupboards for him when he does not have the time himself, and this usually includes the nut flavoured coffee Dave favours. As I wait for the phone to ring, I make a pot, and sit with my hands around the mug, drinking in the aroma before sipping on the drink itself.
A smile curls round my lips as I answer and hear your voice and I take the phone with me as I wander through to the softer chairs, the coffee forgotten for now.
“Mer.” I purr into the handset. “It is good to hear your voice. Do you have the ring?”
Éomer: It seems my curiosity will be satisfied soon, along with my other cravings, and another shiver comes over me, at the thought, and this time my cock begins to fill. And I am wondering why you insisted that I communicate with you in this manner, instead of you coming to Karl's house as soon as you shifted. I know you are planning something, and the idea that you put so much thought into our lovemaking excites me almost unbearably.
"It is in the tack room. Karl . . . " I am not sure how to describe his mood, because I do not know the cause of it. He has been odd for months now and I almost pity anyone who must live with his ever-changing personality. "It seemed the safest place to hide it from him. I shall retrieve it."
The device continues to work as I walk to the barn and I tell you how I have missed you.
Théo: Your voice and your words warm me and I stretch my legs out and rest my feet on the low table in front of the couch, letting my head fall back against the cushions. After a handful of hard days patrolling, it is not difficult to take advantage of the peace and quiet this world can provide I know that I will be with you soon, and have looked forward to carrying out my plan for today since I saw you last.
The tack room? I am intrigued and wonder where exactly you hid it, although it would have blended in well with the other metal trappings there. There is a scrape of wood as the barn door is pulled open in the background.
“I know you must have been curious as to its purpose, so I will tell you. It is for you to wear, in a similar manner to the leather one you wore last time.”
Éomer: Your words send a roll of heat through me, remembering what you did to me the last time we were together. Pulling the telephone away from my ear, I dig in the chest until I find the carved ring, fortunately undisturbed and I unwrap it. It is as I have remembered it, although it seems too large to serve the same purpose as the leather one, and I wonder if you misjudged my size.
"I have found it, Théo, although I believe that it is too big for me." There is a question in my voice.
Théo: My smile widens and I stretch a little more, palming my erection through my jeans. “Oh, it will be a perfect fit, my stallion.”
My rigid flesh throbs against my hand as I think of how it will look. “But it cannot be fitted if your cock is hard.” I lower my voice, and ask questions designed to torment you. “Are you hard, Mer? Do you ache for my touch?”
Éomer: There can be only one answer to either question and I believe that you know it full well. But this must be part of your plans for my pleasure and the sure knowledge of that brings a gasp to my lips.
"Always hard for you, Théo. My head is swollen and slick, and the sound of your voice is bringing fresh moisture with every throb of my blood. Always ache for you. But I am confined in these breeches and you are not here to release me."
My voice is taking a pleading tone, but I cannot help it. You know me so well, know my every reaction and you drive the very sanity from my senses with your play.
Théo: I groan as I think of you hard and dripping, the needy tone in your voice sending a heavy tremor of desire through me.
“Undo your breeches and take your hardness in hand.” There is the sound of a zipper being pulled down, then you are back with me.
“Work it slowly, listen to my voice and come when you are ready.” Orders, commands fall naturally from my lips. The fingers of my free hand slip inside my shirt and tug on the black nipple ring, making me hiss and squirm. “I want you, Mer, want your mouth on me, want to feel your wet tongue wrapped around my hard flesh …”
Éomer: I am still standing in the silence of the barn, but I do not care. You have proven to me that I have no shame where you are concerned and no inhibitions. I try to keep my strokes slow, but your voice has ever been my undoing. I groan, wanting you in my mouth as you have described . . . . "I want you down my throat, taking my mouth."
Your moans are matching my own, stripping me of my control and my hand increases speed, and I come, shouting your name and shooting my seed over my fingers and onto the soft dirt in the barn.
Théo: A tingle runs up my spine and up across my scalp at the sound of my name wrenched from your lips and my back arches off the couch. I deny myself release, but not for long. I will see you soon enough, and then I will satisfy my desires. Your breathing slows, and I find myself almost nuzzling the phone that has become wedged in the crook of my neck as I listen, the need to be close to you warring with the intent to have you craving my touch by the time I arrive.
It is time to put the ring on, and knowing your insatiability, I sincerely hope that you will stay soft enough during the procedure to actually get it in place. “Mer, when you are ready, pull the skin of your sac through the ring, then ease your balls through it one at a time.”
Éomer: I lean against a rough wooden wall, getting my breath back. The ring is no longer in my hand, and I look around, finally seeing it on the floor where I dropped it. I pick it up and polish against my clothes, seeing how beautiful it is and knowing that you picked it to adorn me gives me a feeling of being cherished.
Following your instructions, I slide my balls through and then push my softened shaft through, bending it and wincing as the sensitised skin scrapes on the metal. I look down at myself, intrigued at the look of the shining steel against my skin and hair.
"It is in place." And I wonder what you will ask of me next.
Théo: “Good.” In my mind’s eye I have a clear picture of what it will look like, nestled in your coarse hair, but I know the reality will be even better. And I want you to feel it. Feel the intimate fit, feel the weight of it as you walk, feel your body reacting to it’s presence until you can think only of it and that you wear it for me.
“Before I arrive, I want you to make sure there is a comfortable stall ready in the barn for … afterwards.” A wicked grin grows on my face at what you must be thinking. “I will meet you out there when I arrive, my love. I will not be too long.”
Clicking the phone off, I get to my feet, groaning as I stretch my arms above my head and then wander through the warehouse. Picking up my jacket and pack and locking up behind me before getting Leelu out of her shed, I contemplate a slow ride to Karl’s and feel a shiver of anticipation at the thought of seeing you.
Éomer: It starts almost as an itch, a feeling I cannot describe, but it is an awareness of the heavy piece of metal confining me as I move. I try to ignore it as I go back to the tack room to find some heavy blankets to spread over the straw in the empty stall. But the feeling grows and soon, against my will I am hard again.
Clothes are an irritation and the season here has turned warm again, so I remove them and lay down on the blanket, waiting for you with more and more impatience. Hurry, Théo. I want to touch myself, and though I try to resist, I cannot, and I run a curious finger along the rim of the ring.
Théo: As soon as I park up, I unfasten my helmet and leave it on the seat of the bike before walking towards the open barn door, pulling off my jacket as I stride across the yard. I drop it just inside the barn, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the softer light.
Then I see you, naked and waiting for me, golden hair, golden skin and a glint of silver in the thatch from which your hardness rises. You look at me as your fingers move over metal and skin
“Mer …” It comes out low and throaty, and I walk slowly towards you, dropping the pack and pulling of my shirt as my hungry eyes rake over your body.
Éomer: You are here at last and I wonder if I should feel bad for my inability to resist touching myself, but the heat in your eyes tells me otherwise. I curve my chest towards you, raising my arms above my head and spreading my legs, showing myself and your gift to you.
A low growl rises from my throat as I watch you remove your clothes. I make no move to help you, enjoying the sight of you stripping for me. You are hard for me already and I lick my lips, wanting to taste you.
Théo: My cock jumps, throbbing at the sight of you wantonly displaying yourself for me. Now naked, I drop to one knee beside you, lust plain on my face at the throaty purr rumbling through your chest. I draw my fingers lightly up the tender skin of your exposed inner thigh.
“Every night since we were last together, the thought of you wearing this ring has kept me warm.” They move higher, trailing through soft hair until they reach the ring. The metal is warm and my fingers play over it, slipping onto skin and along your hard flesh.
My touch is firmer as it moves up over your stomach and you arch into it. “I want you on your knees sucking me, and then I am going to take you … hard … “ My fingers reach your nipples and scrape over the ringless one. “And you will not be given permission to come until much later it. But first …” My fingers slide up your neck and into your hair as my smile widens. “I have missed your touch.” I slide my body over yours as you grab me and our lips finally meet.
Éomer: Sinking into the familiar pleasure of your kiss, I wrap my legs around you, pulling you closer. Your scent fills my nose, along with the smells of the barn, straw and horse. But it feels like home, here with you.
I want to taste every part of you and I remember our so recent conversation on the telephone. I want you in my mouth, spurting your seed while I swallow it greedily. "I want you, to swallow you." I grab your hair, pulling your head up.
Théo: My eyes darken and narrow at the pressure on my hair as you pull me away and I look down at you. Need pools in my belly at the look on your face, my long denied release demanding attention.
“Do it.” My voice is low and I turn my head, nipping your wrist before pushing myself back and onto my feet. My fingers itch to dig into your hair and my cock is leaking and throbbing in anticipation. “Make me come.”
Éomer: I sit up eagerly, growling as I follow your movement, not giving you enough time to stand up fully before I seize you, grabbing your hardness roughly before I can stop myself. But I slow down, gentle caresses along your length, my lips following across your silky shaft. I want your cock every place in me that you can fit it, starting with my mouth.
Curling my tongue around you, I swipe up the moisture at the tip, pointing my tongue into your slit before I jerk your hips forward to send you into my mouth as deeply as I can take you, working you in until your curls tickle my nose. I hold you there, the sensation of you filling me so satisfying that I could stay like this for as long as you would let me. But then I begin to move, long, slow strokes that I know will drive you beyond control eventually.
Théo: My gasp of surprise when you grasp me turns into a groan as you lick me, and my hands dig into your hair, my own falling forward around my face as I gaze down at the sight of your lips stretched around my cock as you devour me.
My stomach muscles tighten with each long slow pull of your mouth, my hips bucking forward against your grip, trying to increase your maddening pace. As I get closer, my hands tighten in your hair to pull you off me so I can take you, but you look up at me, hazel eyes flashing, tongue swirling around my cock as you work it and that is forgotten. I want to come with the feel of your tongue on me.
Your slow pace keeps me balanced on the edge, every muscle in my body tense, stretching it out until I reach breaking point and release hits me. My back arches with the force of it, my head snaps back, and I spurt down your throat with a cry, fingers still buried in your hair.
Éomer: Sitting back on my haunches, I look up at you, my tongue flicking out to get the drops at the side of my mouth, purring happily at the taste of your seed. As your eyes come back into focus, I push my face back into your groin, my nose into your hair, breathing in the scent of your musk, feeling excitement flowing through me.
Another sensation, this time it is the ring around my cock and I have grown hard again. My veins seem to pulse against it and I am alarmed for a moment, wondering how it will possibly come off in the end, but then I relax against you again, sure that you will have a solution. Your hands in my hair have gentled, and I rub against you, ready for what will happen next.
Théo: The feel of you nuzzling my groin as I relax back against the stall, happy and sated, is a truly pleasant one and I let my fingers lazily play through your hair, encouraging it for a while longer. With a contented sigh, I tighten my fingers a little, easing your head back
“Mer, there are two things in the side pocket of the pack I brought.” It is sitting where I dropped it, just behind where you now kneel. “I want you to get them for me.”
Éomer: The pack is behind me, I had not noticed it before. I open it curiously and smile at the sight of the ever-present lotion that I have never known you to be without. The other item is truly perplexing.
It is of black hardened material like the tires on the vehicles here and looks like a very large spear-head, though it is blunted. It has a heft in my hand, very solid. I look at you, my confusion clear on my face.
"Is it a weapon?"
Théo: “No, my love, it is not a weapon.” I smile, but softly. I know your innocence of these games and pleasures, despite which you never have any hesitation in putting yourself into my hands. It is something that makes my desire for you burn even higher, to think that I am the one to show you these things.
I squat down in front of you and take the tube, opening it and squeezing out a fair amount of the lube onto my fingers. Then I smear it over the plug in your hand as you watch. Unlike the glass ones that a discrete merchant from Minas Tirith brings to Edoras now and then, this is made of a material that is warm to the touch.
“I will show you what it is for.” I kiss you, wondering if you have guessed its purpose yet. “Get onto your hands and knees for me, Mer.”
Éomer: My eyes widen as you spread the lotion over the device, and I swallow softly. I do not need to be told what it is for now, but it seems overly large. But I remember that I was able to take your whole hand, and how gentle and careful you were with me then. And I trust you, so I do as you ask.
I cannot stop the slight tremble of nervous anticipation, but your hand on my back soothes me and the nerves disappear and I am left with only eagerness. I bow my back, shifting my legs apart, ready.
Théo: Two slicked fingers circle your entrance before I push them inside your heat, scissoring them, stretching you. My cock jumps, already wakening, and I thrust deeper as you push back against me. I ease them out and run the plug down your cleft to get you used to the feel of it before I begin to ease it inside.
You moan as it begins to slip inside you, and I twist it, pushing a little deeper each time, pulling it out and teasing you with it before pushing it further in. Your back arches as your body takes more of it and I keep my hand on the small of your back, watching with fascination as it enters your body. It is stretching you further now, and I angle it to push against the spot inside that makes you gasp and move beneath my hand. “It is almost in, Mer. Relax and breathe out.”
Éomer: I feel as though I'm being split open, but you twist the thing until it brushes the spot inside me, sending sparks of pleasure from the place where you are breaching me. I pant, not sure that it will fit, when finally the largest part slides into me and I can breathe again. But I feel full, impossibly full and stretched, and I start trembling, the motions of my body sending it pushing against my inner walls and I gasp in shock at the feeling.
Looking back over my shoulder, I meet your eyes. I know that mine are wide and uncertain and I cling to the expression of lust in yours, knowing that what I do is pleasing you.
Théo: My desire rises at the way your body reacts to the heavy black plug as it slips inside you. Your eyes are more hesitant though, and I smile reassuringly before bending to plant a kiss on the base of your spine as my hands move on your skin. They move over your cheeks, stroking, caressing, then down the backs of your thighs, tracing muscles that quiver under my touch. Slipping round, they roam up the front of your legs, fingers of one hand wrapping around your cock, smearing the moisture leaking from it over the head as I work it with long smooth strokes.
Curling over you, I slip my arm round your chest, kissing your shoulder blades as I ease you backwards. I know that you will feel the pressure shifting inside you with every movement, and murmur against your skin. “Sit back on your heels, Mer, slowly.”
Éomer: These new sensations within me have me trembling, desire spiking through me and warring with the strangeness of it all. Your arm wrapped around me steadies me and reassures me, and I let myself give in to the pleasure. The weight moves as you pull me into position, sending jolts to my cock which has filled again completely and now other sensations register. The steel ring confining my shaft is another point of pressure on me and you have removed my control of my body from with these devices. My body responds to your will now, not mine. I feel heavy, full and on edge. I want to beg for something, but I do not know what.
Your touch is all that keeps me still as I pant around the conflicting sensations.
Théo: Kneeling behind you, I give your cock one last tug before releasing it and letting my hands wander over your body. You are so hot to the touch, and my fingers map the contours of your chest as I rub myself against your back, erection pressed against your spine. When my fingers come to rest on your nipples, tight and hard and begging to be tormented, my nails graze over them and I growl softly against your shoulder as you writhe.
As you arch, I bury my face in your hair, moving it to one side with my cheek, and your scent fills me as I nuzzle your neck, drinking it in before biting down on the soft place where it meets your shoulder. The feel of you under my hands, the smell and now the taste of you make me groan as I suck the salt from your skin, leaving first one, then two perfect marks. My marks on your skin. My hips thrust against you at the thought, leaving a sticky trail on your back and I ease away, putting just enough distance between us to slip my hand down over your buttocks, lingering a moment before nudging the base of the plug. Before you even have a chance to gasp, my arm slips around your waist, holding you with my fingers splayed against your taut stomach, while I move the plug in slow circles deep inside.
Éomer: You torment me with that thing you have placed inside me, and every movement brushes against the bud behind my cock, flooding me with sensation. I whimper and try to reach you, wanting to touch you, but you frustrate my efforts, staying behind me and teasing me further.
"Please, let me . . . " My voice is shaky with need, need to come, need to be released from these feelings drowning in me. But I know that in your hands I will find more pleasure than I have ever dreamed, and once again, I give up fighting against what you are doing to me and let myself experience this without question. So I spread my legs and tilt my buttocks into your hand, silently asking for more.
Théo: You push back against me and I give you what you desire, tugging on it, pushing it, working it until heavy shudders wrack your body. I let go and stroke your back until the trembling subsides, easing you back from the edge, letting the sensations ebb and flow before taking you further. And I wonder how much it will take to make you come with the ring in place.
I rock back onto my heels and then up onto my feet, trailing my fingers over your shoulder as I move to stand in front of you. My hand slips down your cheek, tilting your face up. Your eyes are filled with a yearning for release, but there is more I want from you before I can allow that.
“On your feet, Mer, hands behind your back.” It takes a moment as the thing inside you shifts, and once you are standing, I press myself up against you, pushing my fingers into your hair and groaning in to your mouth as my chest slides against yours, knowing how much you want to touch me.
Éomer: Every movement sets off fresh tremors from inside my body, and I am nearly shaking with it. My mouth opens greedily for yours, wanting more contact with you, wanting you everywhere, frustration rising at the restrictions you are imposing. I thrust my chest out, my nipple ring catching and slipping against your sweaty skin, not nearly as much as I need, but the sensation has me moaning.
Théo: Digging my hands in your hair I pull back, before kissing you one more time. “Turn around and stand closer to the wall. Put your hands on it above your head to brace yourself.”
Éomer: Your command gives me hope that you will take me at last and end this torment. Pleasure dances along my skin and the feel of the rough boards of the stall under my palms add more sensations to the others threatening to overwhelm me. My entire body is dancing to the tune that you call.
I lock my muscles and wait for what you will do next.
Théo: As you move into position, I take another item from the pack. Its handle fits my hand well, heavy and well made and the thick suede tails still have the sharp tang of newly worked leather. I run it over your shoulder, letting you feel it, letting you get the scent of it. “Trust me, my stallion.”
Made to thud against your skin, not sting, the marks it leaves will be subtle, but for a short time, you will wear them, taken willingly, and again the thought has my cock jumping with anticipation.
As I sat drinking coffee earlier, I could not help but think on the practicalities of what I intend to do. There is care to be taken here, not just of you although that is the most important thing, to gauge when you reach that peak, when your body sings for release. To keep you hovering there in a haze of pleasure before letting you fall in the sure knowledge I am here to catch you. Not only that, but if the blows are too hard, if they leave signs that do not fade before you leave tomorrow, it could have consequences. I love you and want to show you things that you have obviously never experienced, but cannot see Karl accepting any signs of this left on his body. So I must tread a fine line between our pleasure and his wrath.
I trail the tails across the small of your back, and you arch and shift against them.
And it comes upon me again, that what I do to you here … I could not accept any other doing the same. I know this is something that you would not do with another, that you keep for me, but a fierce possessiveness grips me if I think of that. The growl comes unbidden as I twist your hair into a rope and push it over your shoulder, letting it fall down your chest and baring your back to me.
“Mine.” If anyone else ever raised a hand to you I would kill them and yet here I am, about to beat you myself. The boy I helped raise to manhood, who I would protect with my life, even though I know you are more than capable of defending yourself. You wait impatiently in front of me ready for anything that I would do to you, your trust in me so absolute that there is nothing you would deny me.
Nothing.
The shiver of pleasure that trickles though me is as deep and dark as my desires, and I take a breath, letting it out as the first blow lands on your skin.
Éomer: The leather trails over my body, and I shiver, knowing that you intend to use it on me, and that does not disturb me, knowing how much you care for me. But I know that you will force me to wait for release and I groan, wanting you so badly.
The leather hits my skin, sending pain radiating from the point of contact, but as I flinch the heavy thing inside me moves and the pain changes to pleasure. And then every time you hit me the mixture of pain and pleasure makes me dizzy, and I am moaning for you.
Théo: My desire rises with each sound that I pull from you and your skin begins to redden as I work. After several blows, your back, your shoulders glow and I pause to run my hand over the heat, your flesh quivering beneath it, the contact making you hiss. I step back, and land another handful on your buttocks, each one carefully placed, and I watch your reactions intently. I have to push aside the urge to snap the tails against your backside, offered up as it is by the tilt of your hips and the groan from your lips, for fear of marking you too deeply. I stop to admire my handiwork, and reach down, grasping the base of the plug and twisting it, needing to hear your voice. “Tell me what you want, Mer.”
Éomer: My entire back is heated under your blows. It is no longer pain, but a spreading warmth, and every strike against me sends bolts of pleasure from my center. My cock is constrained by the ring, but still leaking.
You are speaking to me and I cannot understand your words, so lost am I in this world you are making for me. I finally shake free of the trance of desire where I have been held and realise what you are asking me.
"You, Théo. I want you. Take me, claim me." I moan. "Take your pleasure in my body." I thrust back towards you, intending to leave you in no doubt as to my needs.
Théo: I run my hand over your inflamed skin. “Six more, and I will take you. I want you to count them out loud.” Taking a step back, I bring the flogger down, each blow harder than the last, using your voice as a gauge to your reactions, and ever mindful of the limits which must be observed here, ignoring the blood pounding through me that almost demands more.
Éomer: I can endure anything if it means that you will claim my body soon. The blows barely reach me as I count, waiting for you to enter me, to end this teasing and torment. The pain means nothing to me, other than as proof of what I will give to you and I hope you understand that it is not the physical sensations of this that drive me wild, but the knowledge that you take so much pleasure in it.
"Six," I say, panting now, wanting you so badly. "Please, Théo."
Théo: The edge of desperation in your voice has my own need clawing at me, and I cast the flogger away, running my hands over your hot skin. My cock throbs, leaking freely but first the plug needs to come out. I take hold of the base of it, putting my other hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Push down, Mer.”
Éomer: You draw the thing out of me slowly and steadily, and I almost whine when it is gone. I had gotten accustomed to the pressure inside me, the delightful feel of being so stretched, the teasing torment of it. But I am so open and ready for you, fully prepared and aching for you to enter me.
Your hand is still on me, slowly stroking my flanks and I lean into the touch, hoping you will now take your pleasure in my body.
Théo: With one slow thrust, I bury myself in you to the hilt, my head falling forward as a drawn out moan escapes me. Your back hollows as I enter you, and your head drops back, freeing your hair to cascade down over reddened skin. For a long moment, I simply savour the sight of you and the sensation of being buried in your tight heat, gripping your hips, but I cannot stay still for long. Pressing against you I begin to move with long strokes and my hand slips round your waist, fingers grazing over your cock, skimming the metal that holds it and I run my thumb across the weeping slit. Your body jerks, the sounds I am pulling from you making my spine tingle and my fingers close around your hard flesh, moving it in time with every thrust into your body.
Éomer: I moan low and ragged when you finally enter me after all this time you have made me wait. Nothing compares to the feeling of your flesh in mine. Your cock inside me, your hand on my shaft, sparks fly from every place you touch me. But the ring you placed on me is binding me tighter as my excitement grows and I well remember your command that I not come. You pound into me endlessly and I keep twisting higher.
"Please, Théo, let me come." And I no longer care that I'm begging, I am desperate for release.
Théo: Groaning, I grasp your hip tighter, one, two more thrusts, and I am almost there, but I want to feel you clench around me, need to feel you let go. “Come for me.” Words growled out as I hover on the edge, breath ragged, so, so close …
Éomer: I struggle to obey your much-desired command, but the ring is interfering. I concentrate on the feelings building in me, on your hand roughly stroking me and it happens at last. And I feel as though I am pouring out everything inside of me through my cock as long-denied orgasm crashes into me. It goes on and on, and my head becomes light as you hold me through it, your hands and voice anchoring me to the earth.
Théo: A cry wrenches from me as you come, your body gripping mine so tightly that it pulls my orgasm from me. My hips jerk forward again and again as my seed spurts from me, yours pumping out over my hand, then my arm tightens around you as I shudder through it, your name on my lips over and over until my head begins to clear.
I hold you for a moment, kissing your back, but I can feel the tremors running through you, and reluctantly pull out, easing you away from the wall of the stall, and back towards the blankets.
Éomer: My feet stumble as you guide me, my body still vibrating from the pleasure that ripped through me. I am tired as though I have been in a battle, and I lay down gratefully, but the rough horse blankets scratch the tender skin of my back, so with a wince, I roll to my belly. I hold out a hand to you, wanting you beside me.
I am tired and sated and I want nothing more than to sleep.
Théo: I tangle my fingers with yours, joining you on the blanket. I move you onto your side to ease the ring off, then let you settle, stroking your hair. “Sleep here for a while, love.” My hand slips down onto your neck. “When you are rested, we can return to the house and I will tend to you.” I curl up close to you, your hand in mine, and watch as you fall asleep.
Hard NC-17!!!
