“What are you making?” Celeborn wandered up behind his wife, sticking the tip of his little finger into the batter bowl before she could answer.
“You should not eat that; ‘tis only sugar and butter.” Galadriel shook her head as she heard her husband stick his finger into his mouth and suck off the sweetened shortening. “I thought I would make some oatmeal cookies.”
“The good kind, right? The ones with bits of chocolate instead of raisins and nuts in them,” requested the Sinda, sneaking another taste of the mixture.
As Galadriel reached for the dried oats, Celeborn took hold of her hand. Drawing it back, and turning her so that they were facing one another, he asked as he placed sweet little kisses on her hand, “Must you do this now? Do you know how late it is?”
“It will get funny if I leave it,” she explained quickly.
“Let it get funny. I would rather the cookies be left unmade, if I can have something else for dessert.” Celeborn’s low growl became a purr as he leaned over and nuzzled her ear.
“I have to finish this,” she responded half-heartedly. “Oh... not here,” Galadriel added, finding her hands immobilized, her wrists held firmly, while Celeborn’s lips worked their way down her throat.
“Afraid that someone might walk in?” Celeborn stepped back, and leered.
He leered so very, very well.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Then we go to our room,” said Celeborn, happy to solve the problem so easily. He began to walk, still holding onto his wife. She did not budge. “What is the matter?”
Smiling, appreciating the concern in his voice, she answered, “I just... I am not prepared for you, and... I...” Lowering her voice, Galadriel admitted, “I am... well, older than I used to be, and things are more difficult to do, and I feel a bit... dry... and...” Embarrassed, she turned away.
For a moment, Celeborn waited to see if she would continue. Realizing she was not planning to, he turned her back around again, pulling her into his arms. “So? I am sure I can find something to use to prepare you – I was not about to just shove it on in.” He comment earned him a partial glare. “There is as much discomfort for me as there is for you if things are not going along smoothly, as it were.”
“I highly doubt that,” she grumbled.
“I am not about to argue the differences between... not going there,” Celeborn promised. “But there are things we can use.”
“No... that just seems... it seems the sort of thing...”
“What? Why do you have a problem with it?” he prodded.
Squirming uneasily in his arms, she replied, “It is just not natural. How do you think two males do things with each other?”
For a few moments, Celeborn looked at her in disbelief. “Your argument is that you do not want to use some sort of lubrication because that is what two males have to do?”
“I suppose...”
“And why does that matter?” questioned Celeborn. “Please, enlighten me, because-“
“Because I feel like... well, it just seems unnatural,” she mumbled.
Shaking his head, he said, “You should always try everything at least once. Decide afterwards if you dislike it.” Reaching for a bottle on a top shelf, he asked, “Would you prefer us to use a chair, or should I ravish you on the table?”
“Celeborn! Not in here!” hissed Galadriel.
Setting his find down momentarily, Celeborn lifted up Galadriel around the waist and hoisted her up onto the kitchen counter. “Fine. I will let it be a surprise,” he said, his hands moving to quickly lift the bottom of her dress up.
Protesting again, Galadriel tried to push the bottle away, but Celeborn blocked her and shook his finger. “Naughty girl. Do I need to give you a spanking?” Celeborn’s fingers slipped beneath the remaining fabric, sliding up her hips under they made it to her rear. Firmly he gripped the flesh he managed to grab. “Naughty, naughty.”
“Celeborn!” Galadriel whimpered, her eyes darting over to the door. “I swear, sometimes I believe you never grew up.”
“Growing up is the sort of boring thing adults do when they can think of nothing more creative to occupy their time,” he mumbled between kisses. He used one hand to shove his leggings and loincloth down to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking the garments away. “Table or chair, my dove?”
“We will have to eat off of that table in the morning,” Galadriel informed her husband.
“Chair it is,” he decided, lifting his wife from the counter. As an afterthought, he managed to grab hold of the bottle he had retrieved earlier. Handing the cooking oil to Galadriel, Celeborn pulled one of the chairs away from the table, positioned it against the wall, and sat down. He slouched a bit and pulled back the hem of his shirt, revealing his firm, erect member. “Go on,” he coaxed, nodding to the oil.
Frowning, Galadriel played with the stopper of the bottle. “Really, dear, I do not want anything unnatural inside of me.”
Celeborn sighed in frustration. “When did you decide to grow up?” he muttered, standing. “Sit,” he directed, taking the bottle from her grasp.
“I have work to do,” she reminded him, pointing to the bowl of cookie dough. Celeborn gave her an unamused look, and instead of arguing, Galadriel sat down.
“Nothing unnatural, is that it?” he asked, kneeling down in front of her. “You never complain about this,” he said as he pushed up her dress and pressed his palms against the insides of her thighs, spreading her legs. “Never heard a single complaint when I was down here,” he added as he flicked his tongue against the inviting entrance that was presented to him. He ran his tongue up and down, moistening his way while he parted the folds of skin and delved deeper. Galadriel’s moans, muffled behind her own hand, enticed him to continue.
When he deemed she was perfectly prepared, he took hold of the bottle and pulled the stopper out with his teeth, spitting it across the room. Pouring a bit into his palm, he used it to slick his member before setting the oil aside. “Stand up,” he commanded, helping his wife to her feet. Taking a seat himself, Celeborn scooted to the edge of the chair and leaned slightly back before placing his hands upon Galadriel’s hips so that he could guide her down onto his awaiting length.
With his fingers firmly wrapped around her waist, Celeborn steadied his lover as she rode shamelessly in his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders as she buried her face against the crook of his neck. “Oh yes... yes, my pet...” he crooned into the silver-gold curls that brushed against his nose.
Throwing her head back, Galadriel clenched her teeth and gripped the intrusive member as hard as she could, gasping as she hit the height of her pleasure. Celeborn thrust faster, hands reaching around to grasp her firm backside as he was brought to release within her.
An hour later, everything in the kitchen was back in place, spotless as it had been before. When Elrond meandered sleepily in for a glass of milk, the only oddity he found was that Celeborn was assisting Galadriel with her baking, sans pants.
“Cookie?” offered Celeborn, with his wife’s back snuggled against his chest. He was grinning and holding out a plate of treats with one hand, while Galadriel giggled and stood at the counter mixing something in a bowl.
“No, I... I should think not,” replied Elrond, forgetting his reason for coming and leaving the kitchen as quickly as he could.
Celeborn set the plate down, only to have his arms full of laughing elleth a moment later. “Did you see the look he gave us?”
“He is definitely one of those elves who decided to grow up because he could find nothing better to do,” answered Celeborn after he chuckled.
*****
*****
It was a shared evening ritual – the two of them side by side, with deep looks of concentration. If one smirked, the other might soon follow if he caught the movement.
Once, Erestor laughed so hard, he spewed out a white spray all over the mirror.
It was not so much a competition, but there were times it went that way, to see who would be the first to finish, the first to spit a mouthful into the sink.
Glorfindel always gargled afterwards, while Erestor preferred to rinse his mouth out with water, usually numerous times, before checking in the mirror for anything stray that had alluded him. Shortly thereafter, their toothbrushes were set aside, the candles would be blown out, and they would retire to their bed.
Of course, Glorfindel always found ways to make something so perfectly normal and innocent seem profoundly dirty.
“Stop. That looks horrible,” scolded Erestor as he entered the washroom. Glorfindel had allowed the white foam to dribble out of his mouth and down his chin, where it was now threatening to slide down his throat. “You look disgustingly pornographic – come here.” Erestor pulled a towel off of the rack and used it to mop up Glorfindel’s drool. “There.”
“’Or ‘ust ‘oh ‘uhn,” countered Glorfindel before pulling the brush out of his mouth and spitting into the sink.
“I know – I ruin all of the fun you try to have.” Erestor picked up the jar of toothpaste, unscrewing the lid. “Boring, boring Erestor,” he chided himself, plucking his own toothbrush from the holder.
Reaching for the bottle of dark green liquid sitting on a shelf that was on the other side of the room, Glorfindel tried to get it without moving from his spot. This meant leaning into Erestor, causing the dark elf to jab his fingers into the jar. “Fin! Watch it!”
“Sorry.” Glorfindel pulled the stopper from the bottle, filled his mouth with the potent concoction, then tilted his head back and made an awful sound before swishing it about and ultimately releasing it into the sink. “Blahhh,” he commented, making a face. He recorked the bottle, and noticed Erestor was still frowning, fingers still coated with paste. “Do you plan to stare at that all night?”
“I do not want to waste it, but I think it rather unsanitary to put it back into the jar.”
“Well,” said Glorfindel after they spent a few more seconds staring at Erestor’s fingers, “you either have to put it back or wipe it off, because you cannot come to bed with it all over your hand.” With that, Glorfindel walked around Erestor and out of the room.
Turning his head to watch his husband retreat from the room, Erestor glanced at his fingers again, then once more to the empty doorway. “Oh, Fin?” called Erestor from the bathroom, setting his toothbrush aside.
Never able to leave Erestor wanting for anything, Glorfindel reappeared as Erestor looked to be busying himself in the cabinet. “Yes, darling?”
“Fin, would you mind just going over there for a moment?” he asked, motioning to the other side of the room with his clean hand. Glorfindel looked a bit miffed, but nodded all the same and wound around Erestor to get there. “Just stand right there- and, and would you mind just holding onto the towel bar?”
“Whatever for?” questioned Glorfindel.
“Just a curiousity. Would you, please?” asked Erestor.
Shrugging, Glorfindel turned so that his back was to Erestor, missing the cheeky grin. “Like this?” asked the blond, taking hold of the bar. It meant he had to bend slightly at the waist, and with his legs spread just slightly, everything was absolutely—
“Perfect,” said Erestor with a smile as he placed a hand on Glorfindel’s hip. The Vanya looked over his shoulder in surprise, then narrowed his eyes at his lover.
“You sneaky little—ooooo...” Glorfindel’s eyes closed, his head tilted back slightly. “Oh! Whooo... Ress! It feels like... oooo, like ice and fire all at once.”
“Really?” Erestor twisted his finger a bit deeper, then added a second one. “Imagine that.”
“Oh, what torture! Oh, you knew it was going to do this,” hissed Glorfindel, arching his back and rising onto the tips of his toes so that Erestor had the best angle to work with.
Plunging three fingers in now, Erestor countered with, “I had no idea. Had I known, I would have tried this sooner.”
Glorfindel’s knuckles were turning white, and the muscles of his legs were straining to keep in the position he was in. “Let me get a hold on the wash basin instead,” he pleaded, trembling as Erestor slid just one finger in and began to stroke deep inside.
“I will hardly get such a good view that way.” Erestor reached for the jar with his clean hand and scooped out the majority of the paste that was left. Rubbing the fingers of his opposite hand in the palm that held the paste, he used it to continue lubricating his lover’s passage.
“Do you even know—oh! –what this feels like?” questioned Glorfindel as he was breached once again.
“Since I do not make a point of sticking foreign substances up my ass, no, I have no clue,” answered Erestor quite honestly. He chuckled as Glorfindel grunted in annoyance and pulled his fingers away. “Resume the position; I have yet to finish with you,” smirked the dark ellon.
Turning around, the blond shook a finger at his lover. “Give me that.” Glorfindel squirmed slightly before grabbing the jar and the remainder of the paste. “Why do I have the feeling I will be regretting this in the morning- go grab the towel bar yourself,” he said, moving around Erestor.
“Did I say I was through with you?” The smirk remained on Erestor’s face.
“You can have your way with me in a moment – I just hate for you to miss the experience. Go on, you,” Glorfindel insisted, swatting Erestor’s rear with his free hand.
After shaking his head, Erestor sighed and obligingly took hold of the bar, needing to bend even further at the waist because of his height. Glorfindel placed one hand on his mate’s shoulder, and used one slicked finger to encircle the puckered entryway before slipping it past the tight ring. “Well?” he asked, twisting his wrist back and forth to make sure the paste coated as much area as possible.
“Damn, that is... really... alright, alright, get it out, I get your point.” Erestor stood up as quickly as he was able. “Bad idea,” he decided, reaching for the hand towel.
“Stop that. What do you think you are doing?” scolded Glorfindel, yanking the towel away.
Blinking, Erestor displayed his pasty palm. “Not bringing it to bed.”
“Of course not.” Glorfindel moved past, and took up his position at the towel bar again. “Be quick about it; I do not have all night.”
With a feral grin, Erestor rubbed the paste onto his elongated shaft, providing for another unique experience. “Ooh, now that is different,” he gasped, moving his hand away as he took a step forward to position himself.
“Keeping that all to yourself, eh?” teased Glorfindel. Moments after he was pierced by Erestor’s length, the blond was given a taste of the same when Erestor wrapped his hand around Glorfindel’s erection. “Ress, I swear... are you trying to kill me?”
“Angh... I was wondering... the same...” Thrusting deeper and with more force, Erestor closed his eyes and lost himself in the moment until he heard a loud snap, followed by a concerned ‘oops’ from his lover. Upon opening his eyes, he noted that Glorfindel still held the towel bar, but that the bar no longer was held by the wall.
“Sorry,” snorted Glorfindel.
Glancing over his husband’s shoulder, Erestor gave a short little laugh, then said, “Drop it.” The bar clattered to the floor. “Hands on the wall,” insisted the dark elf, and Glorfindel did as he was told. Erestor dug his fingers into Glorfindel’s hips, jerking him back as he stood his ground. “Think you can come before me, without me touching you?”
Giving a little whine, Glorfindel braced one hand against the wall and started to reach down to take hold of himself. He was stopped when Erestor intercepted his hand, placing it back up again. The dark ellon held Glorfindel’s wrists firmly now, keeping him from touching himself. “You mean my thick, hard cock pulsing deep inside of your body is not enough for you to—“ Pausing, Erestor kissed Glorfindel on the neck. “Thought that might help,” he said, looking to the creamy white puddle on the floor before rocking forward a few times to reach his own climax.
That next morning at breakfast, when Glorfindel sat gingerly down in his usual seat, he had to wonder exactly why Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged such sneaky looks with one another. “Should I sit elsewhere?” he asked, thinking he had been left out of some private joke.
“No. You can sit there. Why would you think you could not sit there? That chair is perfectly normal. Fine. The chair is fine.” Galadriel only stopped her babble when Celeborn reached over and pinched her arm.
Glorfindel frowned as he regarded the chair, and continued to do so as Erestor sat down beside him, placing a plate containing potato pancakes and cornbread with honey in front of him. “Erestor, something is wrong with this chair and they will not tell me what it is,” he complained.
Without looking up or even acknowledging the smirking pair on the other side of the table, Erestor said as he took his own seat, “They probably had sex on it last night or something.” Both he and Glorfindel missed Galadriel’s jaw drop, as they were distracted when Elrond entered the kitchen.
“I am going into the city today. Is there anything anyone needs?” he asked, quill poised to add to a list he had already started.
“Cooking oil,” said Celeborn, as Glorfindel and Erestor answered in one voice, “Toothpaste.”
“Lots of toothpaste,” added Glorfindel as Elrond’s eyes surveyed the four elves at the table.
Insatiable by Zhie