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Femslash Ficlet #16: LOTR, rated hard R
Or maybe NC-17. I went back and forth on that.
At any rate, here's the concluding ficlet to my Fifteen Days of Femslash project. Also, Happy birthday to my roommate! Woohoo! *throws confetti*
Lithe was Lithe and life was life, Marigold reminded herself with every gasping breath, even as her wits sagged and melted like candle-wax, even as her back pressed to smooth beechbark and sharp teeth sweetly worried at her ear. Life was daytime, Mari thought desperately, her fingers clutching soft spice-brown hair surely tighter than she ought, a pointed nose and a merry laugh pressed to her burning cheek as she gasped; life was chores, and hobbitsense, baking and washing and garlanding for the Lithe dancing. Life was having Tom Cotton for her sweetheart, while Mari's best lass, his sister Rosie, walked out with her brother Sam; Mari tried to call up her Tom's broad face, his sturdy shoulders, but could only see behind her tight-closed eyes the pert bosom and sweet mouth pressed now to her own. Life was all the sound hard things her Gaffer'd say if he ever knew she'd danced her Lithe in the woods back of the Party Field not with Tom but with tall Miss Vinca, bold and daring as any Took and more, her hand up Mari's skirt, thumbpad steadily pressing and two fingers stroking, her rosebud mouth and wicked little teeth roving Mari's throat, her free hand braced against the great beech that held Mari up to her kisses and love-bites and twisting touch.
So Mari thought, or tried to think, with this Miss Took driving her from her wits, bossy as any gentlehobbit sure of her welcome and charming enough and more to warrant that surety. But she couldn't think, her wits as weak as her knees as Miss Vinca kissed her, mouth tasting of berries and tipsy warmth, like that rich red wine Mr. Frodo once gave her and hazing her mind even more; she surely couldn't move, Miss Vinca wriggling all down her front, soft cloth and hotter skin and softer hair caught between Mari's fingers, and if Mari hadn't clung tight she'd've sunk to the ground. She surely couldn't speak, as Miss Vinca kissed a burning path up Mari's cheek and eye and brow, stroked her that much more insistently, murmured, "so sweet, pretty Mari, won't you peak for me, my lass?"
And what else might Mari do, such words breathed hot over her damp brow, such clever fingers pressing pleasure into her? Her cry fluttered in her throat as she tottered on her toes and shook with the force of it within her, blooming out from Miss Vinca's fingers, echoing through Mari's bones and flesh up her spine into her head, shivering down her legs and feet into the earth till she could almost feel the greenery all round her tingling along. Her legs gave, but Miss Vinca caught her round her waist, laughing brightly in her ear, and bore her back against the steady beech. "Oh, that was lovely," Miss Vinca murmured, easing her fingers from Mari as Mari clung to her and gasped. "You're lovely, Marigold. And I knew you had your wildness. I thought I'd lose my fingers!"
That was a cold dash in all this melting heat, and Mari looked up, unable as yet to shape her voice to beg pardon; seeing her face, Miss Vinca laughed kindly and kissed Mari soundly, hand pressed into her waist. "Oh, my dear, I'd not meant to startle you." Another kiss, tipping Mari's head back on her neck, making her heavy eyelids sink. "You're a wonder, Mari Gamgee." Miss Vinca licked her other hand, the wet one, grin sharpening to naughtiness as Mari watched pop-eyed. "All demure and proper without." She sucked her pointer finger, twining her wicked sweet tongue about it. "All sweet and wild within, tasting of honey and salt." A final suck, pulling her fingers free of her rosy lips with a pop, and she curved that damp hot hand to Mari's cheek. "Tasting as lovely as you look."
Mari's breath was caught, at least as much as could be managed so near to such a flustering lass, but she still had no words, just the Lithe-music of laughter and whimpers and cries all round them and Miss Vinca's soft breath on her brow. She should have shaken her head, blushed and ducked away, but she just stared up, caught in Miss Vinca's night-grey eyes, her enthralling smile. "I'm visiting up at Bag End for the next week, maybe more," Miss Vinca murmured, "and what's been lovely at Lithe shall be even sweeter in a bed, shan't it?"
"Miss Vinca," Mari gasped, and the tall Took lass smiled and leaned warmly on her; her thighs shivered beneath her, and all she could think of was the hand which now cradled her face pressed between them. She would, she gladly would, with Miss Vinca under her hands and all manner of wild thoughts of what they might do tumbling amidst her scattered wits, of kissing Miss Vinca's breasts over and tasting her, of paying her back scream for scream. Mari could think of nothing she'd wish to more. But she mightn't, after her Gaffer's chiding, his hard words to Sam and how he'd boxed Mari's ears for being 'overfamiliar' with Master Merry Brandybuck, how he'd said if he caught them again he'd bar her from Bag End. And there was her warm-eyed strong-handed Tom, and she mightn't, but... but that was life and day and sense, but it was night now and Lithe, Mari's heart beating above Miss Vinca's hand on her back, their bosoms pressing with their breath as Mari gulped and nodded, her arms and hands and wits all filled with Miss Vinca as her tall Took lass tipped her chin up and kissed her again.
At any rate, here's the concluding ficlet to my Fifteen Days of Femslash project. Also, Happy birthday to my roommate! Woohoo! *throws confetti*
Lithe was Lithe and life was life, Marigold reminded herself with every gasping breath, even as her wits sagged and melted like candle-wax, even as her back pressed to smooth beechbark and sharp teeth sweetly worried at her ear. Life was daytime, Mari thought desperately, her fingers clutching soft spice-brown hair surely tighter than she ought, a pointed nose and a merry laugh pressed to her burning cheek as she gasped; life was chores, and hobbitsense, baking and washing and garlanding for the Lithe dancing. Life was having Tom Cotton for her sweetheart, while Mari's best lass, his sister Rosie, walked out with her brother Sam; Mari tried to call up her Tom's broad face, his sturdy shoulders, but could only see behind her tight-closed eyes the pert bosom and sweet mouth pressed now to her own. Life was all the sound hard things her Gaffer'd say if he ever knew she'd danced her Lithe in the woods back of the Party Field not with Tom but with tall Miss Vinca, bold and daring as any Took and more, her hand up Mari's skirt, thumbpad steadily pressing and two fingers stroking, her rosebud mouth and wicked little teeth roving Mari's throat, her free hand braced against the great beech that held Mari up to her kisses and love-bites and twisting touch.
So Mari thought, or tried to think, with this Miss Took driving her from her wits, bossy as any gentlehobbit sure of her welcome and charming enough and more to warrant that surety. But she couldn't think, her wits as weak as her knees as Miss Vinca kissed her, mouth tasting of berries and tipsy warmth, like that rich red wine Mr. Frodo once gave her and hazing her mind even more; she surely couldn't move, Miss Vinca wriggling all down her front, soft cloth and hotter skin and softer hair caught between Mari's fingers, and if Mari hadn't clung tight she'd've sunk to the ground. She surely couldn't speak, as Miss Vinca kissed a burning path up Mari's cheek and eye and brow, stroked her that much more insistently, murmured, "so sweet, pretty Mari, won't you peak for me, my lass?"
And what else might Mari do, such words breathed hot over her damp brow, such clever fingers pressing pleasure into her? Her cry fluttered in her throat as she tottered on her toes and shook with the force of it within her, blooming out from Miss Vinca's fingers, echoing through Mari's bones and flesh up her spine into her head, shivering down her legs and feet into the earth till she could almost feel the greenery all round her tingling along. Her legs gave, but Miss Vinca caught her round her waist, laughing brightly in her ear, and bore her back against the steady beech. "Oh, that was lovely," Miss Vinca murmured, easing her fingers from Mari as Mari clung to her and gasped. "You're lovely, Marigold. And I knew you had your wildness. I thought I'd lose my fingers!"
That was a cold dash in all this melting heat, and Mari looked up, unable as yet to shape her voice to beg pardon; seeing her face, Miss Vinca laughed kindly and kissed Mari soundly, hand pressed into her waist. "Oh, my dear, I'd not meant to startle you." Another kiss, tipping Mari's head back on her neck, making her heavy eyelids sink. "You're a wonder, Mari Gamgee." Miss Vinca licked her other hand, the wet one, grin sharpening to naughtiness as Mari watched pop-eyed. "All demure and proper without." She sucked her pointer finger, twining her wicked sweet tongue about it. "All sweet and wild within, tasting of honey and salt." A final suck, pulling her fingers free of her rosy lips with a pop, and she curved that damp hot hand to Mari's cheek. "Tasting as lovely as you look."
Mari's breath was caught, at least as much as could be managed so near to such a flustering lass, but she still had no words, just the Lithe-music of laughter and whimpers and cries all round them and Miss Vinca's soft breath on her brow. She should have shaken her head, blushed and ducked away, but she just stared up, caught in Miss Vinca's night-grey eyes, her enthralling smile. "I'm visiting up at Bag End for the next week, maybe more," Miss Vinca murmured, "and what's been lovely at Lithe shall be even sweeter in a bed, shan't it?"
"Miss Vinca," Mari gasped, and the tall Took lass smiled and leaned warmly on her; her thighs shivered beneath her, and all she could think of was the hand which now cradled her face pressed between them. She would, she gladly would, with Miss Vinca under her hands and all manner of wild thoughts of what they might do tumbling amidst her scattered wits, of kissing Miss Vinca's breasts over and tasting her, of paying her back scream for scream. Mari could think of nothing she'd wish to more. But she mightn't, after her Gaffer's chiding, his hard words to Sam and how he'd boxed Mari's ears for being 'overfamiliar' with Master Merry Brandybuck, how he'd said if he caught them again he'd bar her from Bag End. And there was her warm-eyed strong-handed Tom, and she mightn't, but... but that was life and day and sense, but it was night now and Lithe, Mari's heart beating above Miss Vinca's hand on her back, their bosoms pressing with their breath as Mari gulped and nodded, her arms and hands and wits all filled with Miss Vinca as her tall Took lass tipped her chin up and kissed her again.
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*happy thoughts* Pretty happy girls, and eeeeeeeeeee HOBBITS YAYES.
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Lovely.....Thank you Rubynye.
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