The Love Of Elves
Part 7

Posted: September 2003
Author: Ellon Melethril, a.k.a. Lemur and Maeve

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~The Last Debate~

Aragorn pulled the fabric down over the slight curve of the Elf's hips. Fighting a hungry desire to lock his gaze on his friend's arousal, he instead followed the light-colored garment as it slid lower down the deceptively powerful thighs, then over equally strong, yet smooth calves, and finally over finely-boned ankles. Legolas had the muscled legs of a runner, a hunter, a warrior... indeed, Aragorn remembering how those legs effortessly propelled the Elf up mountains faces and across stretches of land. And yet, he still possessed all the grace and agility of a dancer.

Venturing a gaze back up the supple legs, his lips parted in a small gasp. The Elf's arousal rose hotly from between his thighs, and Aragorn felt his own member throb in harmony at the sight before him. It was smooth and hard, gleaming with moisture. Slender and beautiful, like everything was on his fair friend.

His friend. Unexpectedly, he was struck by a thought: he desired his friend. For the first night, for the only night, he desired his friend.

Unable to resist, Aragorn reached out to skim his fingers against a cool mist-covered cheek. Pink, moist lips parted invitingly and soon it was too much to bear. His mind was threatening to dissolve and concede defeat to the desire surging through his veins.

Gripping his friend's head, he crushed their lips together, and allowed his reticence to fade, forgetting everything but the feel of the soft flesh yielding under his mouth and the slender fingers slipping firmly into his damp hair. No more troubled thoughts, no more self-doubt, no more fears or insecurities.

Strong arms reached out to circle Legolas's back and he pulled the naked Elf onto his lap. If possible, their kiss became deeper, more intimate, as Aragorn's tongue ventured past open lips to explore his friend's mouth. A soft moan trilled their joined flesh and Aragorn
shuddered, moaning in unison.

Legolas drew soothing, caressing hands across his damp back and shoulders, though it seemed to create quite the opposite effect on the Man; Aragorn moaned again, breaking the kiss, his lips seeking the Elf's neck. He kissed and bit at the soft flesh, while his hands
kneaded and roamed over more silken, ivory skin.

A whimper sounded as Aragorn's lips found the Elf's earlobe, even as his arms crushed the lithe form to his own. The sound may have made anyone else pause, but he knew better than to treat his beautiful friend as though he were made of glass. He knew how so many were fooled by the beautiful elvish exterior of his friend. But whereas some would be tempted to give feminine attributes of beauty to such a pretty creature, Aragorn had long since learned the strength and power hidden behind the golden façade.

Glancing down, he stroked his fingers over a spot near Legolas's left shoulder; he could recall how the Elf's flesh had been pierced by an Orc-spear during a long-ago battle. On a Man, or a Dwarf or a Hobbit, such a wound would have left a large, unattractive scar; but there was nothing upon Legolas's shoulder but flawless pearly skin. Not a single mark betrayed the experience and hardships concealed within this beautiful being.

Returning his attention to the Elf's ear, his fingers traced the outer rim of the peaked tip, feeling a tiny fluttering heartbeat under his fingertips. A sweet moan was his response; Legolas tipped his head into the touch as his eyelids fluttered in pleasure. His tongue quickly darted out to moisten his lower lip.

"A-Aragorn..."

The Man smiled, lightly pinching the pointed tip, until Legolas's breaths turned into erratic pants. With a long shudder, he succeeded in wriggling his ear free, capturing Aragorn's hand in his own in an eyeblink.

Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but the sound turned into a breathy groan as Legolas gave a wicked grin and engulfed two of his fingers within his mouth, sucking on them slowly, sensuously. That same tongue that had danced so expertly on his arousal now curled around his digits, in a skillful caress that made the rest of his body ache with jealousy.

Just when Aragorn thought he would become mad with lust, Legolas released his fingers and claimed his lips in a passionate, demanding kiss. All too soon it ended, and he threaded his fingers through his friend's fine golden hair as he dipped down, kissing and suckling Aragorn's neck, smooth teeth carefully delving into the tender flesh.

He moaned again and, lost as he was in the sensations, almost failed to realize that two strong hands were slowly pushing him down onto his back.

Oh no, you don't, Aragorn thought with an inward smirk. He would not give up control so easily. He had heard the Elf cry out once and he fully intended to hear it again. Reaching for the arm that lay atop his chest, he purposely ran his calloused thumb along the sensitive skin of the finely-boned wrist, knowing he had hit his mark as the Elf shuddered all over and pulled away from his neck.

"That is a cheap tactic..." Legolas murmured, glaring with eyes clouded by desire.

"Perhaps," Aragorn said, his voice slightly muffled as his lips ran over the Elf's soft, yet muscled chest, licking the water from the heated skin. "But a most useful one as well..."

He reached a peaked nipple and, after allowing just the tip of his tongue to lick at it, securely fastened his lips around the sensitive tip and suckled mercilessly. Legolas gasped and writhed against him, vainly attempting to squirm free, but with little success this time.

"Aragorn, please..." he begged. "Saes, tampo!"

Warm breath puffed against the skin as Aragorn spoke. "Now you are begging me to retreat? How very becoming."

With a soft groan as his reply, Legolas began rocking gently against him, rubbing the steel of their arousals together. Quite effectively distracted from his ministration, Aragorn's hands eventually found their way down Legolas's backside to grasp at his buttocks, kneading the firm, muscled flesh, making the Elf buck forward a bit, the movement causing their erections to brush together for a moment. Aragorn moaned, repeating the action until he was urgently grinding against Legolas. Slick pearls of fluid leaked generously from them both, aiding their movement and igniting friction that threatened to push them both over the edge.

Close as he was to release, he was not prepared to relinquish control just yet. Though he was desperate for contact himself, he refused to relent; this was one battle he was determined not to lose. In a move that made them both moan in frustration, he wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas and stilled both their bodies. Still holding the Elf close, he shifted their positions until Legolas lay on his back.

Still beautifully flushed from arousal, the Elf followed Aragorn's gaze as it swept over his naked form, soon replaced by the Man's hand. He ran his hand over the curve of muscle and tapered waist until his palm settled between the Elf's thighs. Curling his fingers around the burning erection, his breathing hitched and he couldn't resist the urge to lick his lips as he felt it for the first time. It felt warm in his hand, and was long and slender, sliding easily against the curve of his fingers, proudly arched in a way that reminded Aragorn of the Elf's bow. He allowed a brief smile to touch his lips at the thought, before sliding down the length of his friend's body and engulfing the dew-tipped member within his mouth. Legolas shuddered then, gasping in surprise at the unexpected contact.

The Elf's arousal tasted not of the leaves nor of the forest as his lips did; but rather, a flavor reminiscent of spiced honey graced the Man's senses. He took the pulsating organ deeper within his mouth, eager to experience more, and felt his heartbeat flutter when a sound more beautiful than any minstrel's music escaped from Legolas's lips.

Mimicking the Elf's earlier skilled actions, Aragorn carefully circled the warm crown with the tip of his tongue, repeating his ministrations with renewed urgency when Legolas moaned aloud, his supple hands slipping down to rest upon the Man's shoulders.

Aragorn's own hands crept upward, feeling every muscled curve, until he reached the stiff buds of the Elf's nipples, massaging the tender, rosy flesh with the tips of his fingers, until Legolas was gasping and pressing so hard against his shoulders he was certain he would be bruised for days.

"Dare I say, Legolas," Arwen teased, smiling from where she lay, enjoying the sight before her. "That control has been wrested from you?"

"'Tis only because one of us...does not play fair..." Legolas began, but his words were lost in a loud moan as Aragorn swallowed him deeper.

At the Elf's lovely cry, he himself could not help but moan; his actions were unskilled, awkward even, though whatever he was doing, it seemed to be the right thing. He closed his eyes as he continued to taste the Elf's flesh, savouring the sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips. A tremor ran through Legolas's body as his climax drew close, and again Aragorn moaned at the feeling.

With a shock, he realized he really had no control at all; Legolas's lust-induced sounds, the intoxicating taste and scent of him, even the feel of his body as it quivered under his touch...it had all combined to create a spell, a very powerful spell under which he was
helpless.

Both amused and stunned, he barely had time to register this new discovery when Legolas's body suddenly tensed beneath his hands, arching off the ground as a long whimper left his lips. A warm sweetness flooded Aragorn's mouth as he struggled to hold the Elf still.

Releasing the now-tender flesh, Aragorn watched as Legolas slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, catching his breath. "Aragorn," he chided. "That was most unsporting." A flush had spread over his features and he smiled, eyes shining brightly. He pushed his slender body into a sitting position and captured Aragorn's face in his hands, filling his senses with the taste of leaves again as he placed a gentle kiss upon the Man's lips.

When his lips were released, Aragorn could not resist a smile. "If this night is for me as you say it is, then I can do as I wish."

A wicked look crossed Legolas's feature, and his hands slid away from the Man's face. Soon two smaller, delicate hands cupped his cheeks, and Aragorn found himself staring into the bejeweled eyes of Arwen.

*****

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