stormyday
Hobbit-lass who run off to
a Harem
Registered: Jan
2002
Location: Teetering on the edge of a fantasy
slippage.
Posts: 45 |
How about a
golden oldie to warm things up a bit?
Make
us feel more at home? 
The
first really swoony post I ever did (in summer re-runs) 
************************
So anyway,
you are sitting in the front room of Bag End. There’s just a
hint of a chill in the air, enough to make you glad of the
fire, and you’re content to snuggle up on the sofa, and read.
The house is quiet, because everyone else is out of the house
doing other things. You look outside and notice the sky seems
a little grey. Then the rain starts, not a gentle fall, but a
sudden downpour opened with a clap of thunder. You go back to
reading.
A few minutes later, a sudden slam of the
door startles you. Frodo has come running into the house. He
is standing in the doorway, dripping wet. The rain has
plastered his hair to his head, and rivulets of water run down
his cheeks and over his lips.
He licks the droplets
off his lips, and laughs. “Rather unseasonable weather we’re
having,” he says to you, “For a moment, I thought I was going
to wash away.” His white shirt is so wet it has turned
transparent and is molded closely to his chest.
His
breeches are also dripping water onto the floor. He pulls the
wet fabric of his shirt away from himself, and shivers. “I
didn’t think it was possible to get so wet in such a short
period of time,” he says to you.
You abruptly realize
you have been staring blankly at him while he is standing cold
and wet on the threshhold. You jump up. “My goodness, Frodo,
you are soaked!” You say to him. “Here sit on the couch, by
the fire, and I’ll go get you a towel.” You pull him over and
sit him down.
He resists for a moment, “I’ll get water
everywhere,” he says.
“You’ll catch your death, besides
water is pretty easy to clean up.” you reply. In the laundry
room, you grab 2 towels, a blanket, a dry shirt….hmmm…….and,
no, you don’t grab dry breeches.
Feeling virtuous, you
go to Frodo, and start rubbing his back and shoulders with a
dry towel. You undo his suspenders, and pull his shirt out of
his pants. His skin is cold and damp. You can’t help but
imagine what licking his shoulder right now would taste like.
“Thanks,” he mutters as he uses the other towel to dry
his hair. You drape the blanket around his shoulders. He looks
around. “Where is everyone?” he asks you.
“Oh,
working, running errands, and so forth,” you answer.
“I
see. So it’s just you and I at the moment?” he says with a sly
smile. He is still chilled, but seems somewhat invigorated.
There’s a certain look on his face…
You realize with
some amazement that you have started calmly unbuttoning his
shirt (the top three buttons are missing, and the bottom ones
are hanging by a thread).
“Uh, er, yes, that’s right,”
you manage to say.
He puts a finger under your chin
and tips your face up to look into your eyes. “You’re not
going to faint or swoon, are you?” he asks softly.
You
shake your head. He brings his face down to yours, and
then………and, then…..….well, you remember what happened then,
right?
__________________
Arwen (looking at Harem): As
wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last.
For
passion, like crime, does not sit well with the sure order and
even course of everyday life. Death in
Venice
Report
this post to a moderator | IP: Logged |
Actually,
anything is fine outside of Arf or Arfy.
05-25-2002
05:34 PM
my
drawing
Attachment: 
