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Under the Table by elfscribe

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Story notes:

This was a scene cut from “To Ward Winter’s Chill.” But it stands alone well enough.

First posted. August 31, 2007



Glorfindel flinched at what Erestor was doing and laughed. “Pervert,” he said. “How much longer do you plan to torture me?”

“As long as I can prolong your pleasure,” Erestor purred. Glorfindel was looking at him, eyes hazy with the pleasures already experienced that night and the anticipation of more to come. Erestor moved down a little, took up Fin’s magnificent cock in one oiled hand and began stroking lazily. Glorfindel groaned, closed his eyes.

“You know,” said Erestor conversationally, “I was thinking . . .”

Glorfindel opened his eyes and looked at him in exasperation. “Whenever you start with that, I know I’m in for a long delay in gratification.”

“No, listen. I was just remembering all the times in Council meetings when I was stiff with boredom and I’d look over and see the same expression of ennui on your face and I thought, wouldn’t it be amusing to slide under the table, unlace those leggings, and give you something to be enthusiastic about?”

“You actually thought that? I would not have imagined such wickedness in you, Counselor Erestor. If I had known, I’d have asked for a respite in the proceedings and hauled you into a closet.”

“Mmmm, yes,” Erestor grinned. “Well, meleth, I’m about to improve every future Council meeting for you.”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow.

“Imagine that we are all seated at the Council table,” Erestor said. “There’s Ereinion at the head, playing with his signet ring which he does when he’s bored; there’s Elrond to his right with his chin in his hand, trying not to go to sleep; and all the rest of them all in varying stages of sighing, scratching, or glaring while Nimdir is droning on and on about the unaccountable lack of bees in the Blue Mountains, or the prospect of rain this winter based on some old soothsayer’s prediction, or that completely unnecessary dike he wants to build at Forland, just to give his worthless nephew something to do, and how he has a new scheme, already presented five times, to raise taxes to pay for it and Ereinion tries to placate him again . . . you’re remembering all this?”

“Yes, unfortunately. You know, this is quite killing the mood you had me in so nicely a moment ago,” Glorfindel replied.

“Not for long. I want you to imagine that I had excused myself from the Council earlier and instead I had hid myself under the table, near your chair. No one can see me with that tablecloth hanging down to the floor. I have found your legs and now you feel me loosening your ties and pulling your equipment free. Then, I’ve got you out and I’m licking you, like this.” Erestor paused to demonstrate. “Now, you must pretend that we are in that meeting and you must not move suspiciously or make any sound.”

“Now where is the fun in that?” Fin asked.

“Uh, my lord, remember you must preserve some decorum.” Erestor grinned at him, then lowered his head and proceeded to take him in his mouth. This time he was nearly violent in his manipulations, sucking fast and hard, flailing Fin with his tongue. All the way up and all the way back down again. Gods, Glorfindel was a mouthful. Erestor was impressed with himself that he was able to take him almost all the way in. He could feel the vein on the underside - throbbing against his tongue. Very satisfactory moans were coming from above. Erestor raised his eyes and looked at Fin who was watching enraptured, his arm resting behind his head.

“Mandos! What a mouth. I knew I was in love with you for a reason,” Glorfindel sighed.

“What’s that Lord Glorfindel? What a mouth? Are you making a comment on Lord Nimdir’s proposal?” Erestor said in a loud voice.

“Uh no,” Glorfindel replied, “I was just, uh, consulting with my advisor. Easy there,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth, as Erestor bit him, perhaps a little too hard. Fin was thrusting with his hips now and moaning most deliciously. He was getting close.

Erestor broke off his assault for the moment. "Um, Lord Glorfindel, are you in pain? Should we adjourn the meeting and find you a leech?"

"No, no, I, uh . . ." Fin replied, laughing. Erestor went back to his task, increasing the pace. “Lord Nimdir," Fin said in choked tones, "I'm afraid that my advisor recommends that you . . . Mandos, that’s good, Erestor . . . that you can . . . uhhh . . . shove your proposal right up . . . Gods, I’m going to . . .” Glorfindel choked and made a strangling noise. He grasped Erestor’s head, pushed up hard, nearly making Erestor gag. Then he was erupting into Erestor’s mouth. Wanting to watch the show, Erestor pulled off and let it squirt upwards, like a small fountain. He continued stroking slowly and the remaining throes oozed over his fingers. He watched Fin’s blissful expression, eyes closed, head thrown back, and felt the power of having done that to him.

Glorfindel lay utterly relaxed, shuddering occasionally. He sighed deeply. “Oh gods in Arda, that was magnificent,” he said.

Erestor moved upwards to lie on Fin’s chest. “You’ve just caused a major incident with the delegation from Forlond,” he said. “They’ve left in a huff.”

Glorfindel laughed, a deeply happy sound that vibrated against Erestor’s chest. He kissed Erestor hard on the mouth. “They can go fuck themselves. They should be quite good at it,” he said. He shifted underneath Erestor. “You, my dear, are wicked. Utterly wicked. I won’t be able to attend another Council session without thinking of what you just did.”

“The way I see it, you owe me then,” Erestor chuckled.


The End
*****

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