(Untitled)
Well damn. Everyone's doing it.
Request a fic, y'all; Lij was a stinker! I love him so, but oh my. I'm sure it's for something other than "Don-feel-like-it, nyah!" because he is sweet. But he's still a poo!
So yes, anyone who needs a little cheering up, give it up. mews1945 and absolutefiction got the right idea. Go on ahead... even if yer just sad in general over it. I ( Read more... )
Request a fic, y'all; Lij was a stinker! I love him so, but oh my. I'm sure it's for something other than "Don-feel-like-it, nyah!" because he is sweet. But he's still a poo!
So yes, anyone who needs a little cheering up, give it up. mews1945 and absolutefiction got the right idea. Go on ahead... even if yer just sad in general over it. I ( Read more... )
Hamson would hold him down; too easy. His ham-sized hands would pin Frodo's arms behind his back, and he'd growl lusty moans in Frodo's ear while pushing Frodo's chest out insistently from behind. All the better to present Frodo to Halfred, who would kneel down on the floor in front of Frodo's sitting room hearth, smiling devilishly. He'd pluck at Frodo's nipples with flicks and twists, making Frodo buck up over and over again with trembling hips and shaking knees. Those knees would be opened with tender hands, Sam gaining access to Frodo's throbbing need. His tongue would trail from base to tip, letting Frodo watch with absolute madness as his cock jumped to his lips and tongue, aching and feral for release. His body used for pleasure, three brothers wanting him so badly... it was enough to make Frodo's hand move absently over his tightening breeches now, teeth gritting in want. If they knew...
Perhaps someday they'd come by at an early hour, and Frodo would still be dressed in his flimsiest nightshirt... roaming around his kitchen and letting them be tempted with the sight of him... he knew they liked their ale as well... perhaps flimsy clothing wasn't needed. He'd share half his cellar of Old Winyards if it meant...
"Mr. Frodo?"
So caught up in his reverie, Frodo didn't notice Sam mere feet away until he'd spoken. His head turned quick to find him, all dirty-faced and smiling. "Oh! Sam, I was..."
"Daydreamin', per usual," Sam teased, winking. "We're almost done. Halfred's just going to get a few more logs together, put 'em out back fer firewood."
"Oh... all right. Will they stay for elevenses? It's... the least I could do." Frodo asked. Sam shrugged.
"I'll ask... thank'ee." he said. Frodo nodded, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Sam ambled off to the other two; Frodo, figuring the soup was finished, walked back over to it and took it from the fire. He was slightly disappointed as the milky broth didn't seem thick enough. Figuring it needed to cool down some anyways, he went to the table and picked up the bottle of milk he'd used. Being so caught up in muddled thinking, he turned a bit too fast; the bottle swayed and pitched forward, the mouth of it hitting Frodo's chest. Before he knew it, his entire front was covered in large splashes of liquid, making him yelp. He cursed loudly once, holding his arms out.
"Blast it all!"
"Mr. Frodo... ye a'right?" Halfred called. Frodo huffed, shaking his head.
"I'm fine. I just..." he started. He paused now, looking down on himself. With a secret smile forming, he walked to the doorway and looked out. "You three come in to eat when you like... I'm afraid I need a bath..."
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Hamson would hold him down
NGH! *bites knuckle* What a devious little nymph my Frood is! Now we just need to know how he manages to get the lads into the bathing room with him...
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