Work Text:
Anairë
My lord ever lusts for me. When my ankles peek beneath my skirts he gazes at me hungrily, and I see the effort he exerts to restrain himself. When my breasts shake, when the cleft betwixt them can be seen above my bodice, he stares at me as a man possessed. When my maid undresses me he watches with fascination, his lips parted in a half-smile of such desirous wonder that it sets my nethers all aflutter. But still he touches me only when I permit him to once a fortnight; I am truthfully so busy with my social obligations and my work with the other ladies of high society and our many projects, such as our current improvements to the city’s hanging gardens and all the annual balls and galas as you must surely understand, that he has no other opportunity, and he is moreover a great man, masterful over his mind and body, judicious in how often he expends himself, and he accounts our arrangement to be the perfection of self-control.
But last night, oh last night while I slept at his side his lust overcame him. I dreamt that Nolofinwë touched me below, that he tickled my nethers, and as my mind came slowly to wakefulness, I found that my dream was true, so verily true, and forsooth he touched me, much to my surprise, and much to his convenience, for I lay upon my side and my nightgown was rucked up about my hips, and I was exposed to him. I stirred not, being at first frightened, and I dreaded that he should molest me thuswise. But I would know how far his probing might go, and if he would dare the act he undoubtedly craved, and so I lay still, and listened, and waited.
But Nolofinwë’s hands are clever, and against my wisdom my lust was roused from slumber. He rubbed against my rosy bud, gently, gently he massaged me, gently ignited my passions. When he withdrew his hand I knew not whether to be glad or sad, but I chose glad, for it was best that we be getting back to sleep, and I prayed that his thoughts had returned to reason so as not to deprive me of further rest.
I almost shivered as his hands, without warning, caressed my butt—he didn’t notice did he? Nay, he didn’t, for he continued to stroke me lovingly over my cheeks and thighs, and his breath on my neck became ragged. From my opening wetness leaked. Crawling through the hair on my bottom his dexterous digits found my entrance and first one and then a second finger probed me. Sick with lust was I become, and with the steaming lifeblood pooling swamp-like between my trembling legs, I submitted to him, I let him use me thusly, I let Nolofinwë take me as was his right.
But he would exercise his right in the fullest, being of one flesh with me and owed my entirety, and he essayed to breach me without so much as a word. Rather difficult it is to enter a woman at such an angle, with the opening of the flower being shielded tight by its petals, a rose bud and no open blossom, and he pushed and nudged and pushed and nudged but made no headway.
“My lord,” I rolled over that he might better breach me, “take me as you will.”
Forthwith Nolofinwë spread my legs, and with no hesitation or ceremony readied himself. “You were awake?”
I nodded bashfully. “Your first touches woke me.”
“You’ve gotten so wet for me,” he murmured and kissed the corner of my eye, “you were made for this, Anyë my dearest. Your body knows your duty to your lord.”
He repeated this as he went inside me, “you were made for this, my good, good wife.” Shivers of pleasure consumed me—Oh how it thrills me when he praises me! Oh how I melt in his arms! And so I melted that night, like so much butter in his big, hot, muscular hands, and opened myself to be devoured.
With a grunt he pressed my legs up to my chest, folding me quite in twain—‘tis a tight angle and the pressure of him inside me was almost more than I can bear. Sobbing and shaking I sputtered that I am his and he answered “that’s right, you are mine, Anyë, mine, all mine.”
Nolofinwë
Anairë ever tempts me, but she knows not what she does, believing that my sex is not so weak in the flesh as hers, and mayhap that is so, but I am sorely tempted nonetheless. The lady raises her skirts higher than needed when she ascends the stairs, and when her maid disrobes her she wiggles her bottom in my direction. She does this and then enters the bed in that high-necked nightgown and goes straight to sleep as if she had not a moment before pressed her breasts together for me to see their volume. But I hold fast to our agreement, and I do not touch her, no, no, I do not touch her until the agreed-upon hour of our lovemaking, for I am a man of honor who abides by my troth, and breaks no vows.
But with a solemn heart I confess that my desire mastered my reason last night, for as I lay beside her my thoughts turned to the delectable qualities of her heavenly body, and I could but imagine myself thrusting into her tight heat, swollen with sanguine arousal, and though I lay perfectly still and silent, hands crossed over my stomach in a gesture of rest, my manhood hardened. To touch it would be surrender, but to look, simply to look would be to love, and I pulled back the counterpane to gaze upon my slumbering wife in adoration. The valley of her waist was low, and it curved up to the wide slope of her hip—bared! Bared where her pearly-pale nightgown had slid up. By Varda’s lights, she is beautiful!
But I am a man of discipline and so I restrained myself, and merely gazed upon the swell of her ample buttocks, haloed by the silver light from the window, and glowing softly in the velvet gloom. But as I gazed upon her I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into the quick mire of lust that unmans even the most stalwart men, and I was enticed by treason unto myself.
But as I pondered this, the conceit arose that treason to my discipline may yet be faithfulness to my rulership of my household, and I acknowledged that it is fully within my rights to use dear Anyë as I will, and satisfied enough with this rationale I conceded to my desires and stroked her comely buttocks.
I reached for her cunt, naughty yes to touch her there whilst she sleeps, and a pang of regret cut my heart like the surface slice of a razor, and the blood of wrongdoing welled up unbidden but inevitably as it ever does. ‘Twould be ill to enter her while she sleeps and can have no say in the matter, and I lied to myself and said that I merely petted her because I love her, and I petted a part of her that I love, and showed her thick curls the affection they deserve.
But falsehoods must in time be laid bare, and as I pressed my fingers into her wet cunt I admitted to myself that I was preparing her to take her. It was a lapse, such a lapse, but how can a man withdraw his fingers from his wife’s wetness? How can he withdraw when he feels how her body lubricates itself for him at his very touch, yea prepares itself even while she sleeps, for she knows her duty! How can a man keep from indulging in what is his?
When she rolled over I was not surprised, such touches would rouse any Elda, but I confess with a guilty conscience that for a moment I had wished she had remained asleep and that she had known what I did only in her dreams.
To absolve myself of that sin I threw myself into devoted lovemaking with her who belongs to me, who is so good for me, who opens herself obediently and whose flesh serves mine so willingly. Anairë, my sweetest Anairë, her breasts were soft and pillowy beneath my chest, and her rosy lips were parted to let loose animal cries of passion. She sounds so lewd when she moans, lascivious noises bubbling like frothy beer from a noble mouth that speaks so honorably by day, but how I love it, how I love to hear the indecency of her arousal, for it is mine, all mine, she is loose and libidinous for me, only for me, and no other.
Her cunt, no, my cunt, drags me deeper into its insatiable maw, swallowing me in its sopping gullet, as she cries for me to slow down, to prolong this time of love, for her body hungers, oh how it hungers, almost more than a decent man can satisfy it, as is the way of all women. If she did not keep herself so busy, she would seek my affections nightly, and I would spill and spill and spill until I would be milked dry, and be left impotent and wasted. Good, that she has so many obligations apart from me. Good, for my sake.
Keeping my pace steady, I lasted as long as I could, but I spilt, for the tightness of her cunt can not be long endured, nor her beauty be long withstood, and I am but newly wed and unused to this act still. My resolve must be strengthened, and in time I will learn to last longer, for her pleasure and my pride; and oh as soon as the wave of my climax subsided it became a bad night for my pride. I clutched Anairë to my chest, hiding her face from me, to conceal the displeasure that no doubt marked my countenance, forsooth no displeasure at her who has done no wrong, but at myself who am so weak to the movements of my flesh.
As we fell asleep again our hands intertwined, and drunk with post-coital bliss she snuggled closer to me, whispering her love to me and I responded with a kiss to her brow.