The After-dinner Exploits of Beregond and Pippin

[pipsfolly.livejournal.com]

[Rated NC-17 for interspecies smut]

Pippin: I've never had such a meal, Beregond! Will they have more tomorrow? *with one hand on my belly just in case I might tip over, I trail behind you as I talk, noticing that you seem to be having a much easier time in walking. I recognise this area as the place we passed after first arriving, what the bellhop called the main concourse. Only this time I notice sometime I had not before -- the green under my feet. As green as the grass in the Shire, the soft grass that I would fall upon with a smile on my face and nap in after such a meal as we've had.* Beregond? *stopping to kneel down and feel this grass that may not be grass, bending down more to smell it* It is just like home. *flopping down in it, frowning at the shadow of a large footed... thing that nearly steps upon me*


Beregond: *Blinking up at something well over twelve feet tall with feet even bigger than Pippin's, I wincingly smile at him, her? It?* Nice day, nice park. Good to see you. *Whatever it is grunts in perfect three part harmony and waddles off in the direction of the Comet's Tail* Well, at least that large beast didn't decide to fall on us, eh, Pippin? *dropping to sit on the grass, it is rather amazing to see such a sight here amid all this metal and strange coloured light* So now what? There's so much to do and see here, I barely know where to start!

Pippin: *perking up when you join me in the grass, scrambling to my feet* I would like to start with you in a bath with me. *leaning in to you, grabbing your shoulder for support, and kissing your nose* We were to get a bubble scent, yes? *glancing about the area, wondering where we would find such a thing* You would think that there would be a sign to identify a seller of bath soap. A picture of a bathtub, perhaps? *spotting a drawing that is not in the shape of a tub, but a...* Beregond? What is that shop? *pointing towards a sign that bears a symbol in the shape of a body part that we dare not show in public -- unless we are sure that no peeking eyes are about*

Beregond: Oh, my Eru. They can just... wave such a sign about? In public? *standing, towing you up to your feet beside me, smoothing your rumpled hair* And look, those passing by do not even blink an eye in surprise. This is indeed a new place we find ourselves in. *looking down, smirking* And I think we should adapt to our surroundings. Let's go see if they have some bubble bath, and who knows what else. *taking your hand and heading for the shop, eyes widening as we enter*

Pippin: *walking in with you, I take grasp of your breeches when I see the number of items on these shelves -- none that i can yet see that look like bubble bath, but more like instruments of weaponry. lingering behind your leg and giving a wary glance every which way, my eyes rest upon the likeness of a friendly face that is close to my level and I wander over to see what kind of art this might be.* This is a strange piece of work. Perhaps I could take one home to Merry as a souvenir. *leaning in to examine the face more closely* Why it looks as if it is about to feed on something. *sticking my fingers in the rounded mouth* How curious...

Beregond: *prodding your newfound friend with one finger, noting it's seemingly filled with air, hollow. Odd. As I stare into it's vacant, open mouthed face, I suddenly realize just what purpose it serves* Er, Pippin. You don't need one of those as long as I'm around. I think it's intended to, um, help out those spending a night alone? *not sure if you've caught my meaning, I pick up a nearby rubber object and prod the dolls' lips with it, chuckling, before setting the *reads the label* "dildo" back on its shelf. *I wander about while you wrestle with getting loose of the doll* Pippin! Over here. A full shelf of bath items!

Pippin: *my eyes are wide when I arrive at your side, my head still turned to stare at the object you just put on the shelf before I then glance at the front of your breeches* Beregond, that looked very famili-- *sniffing the air, twisting around to see the items are you looking at* Oh, we shall have to smell them all! *grabbing one, opening the bottle and holding it up to my nose, sniffing more* Strawberry! *wrinkling my nose before I give a sudden sneeze*

Beregond: *laughing* If you smell them all, I fear you'll sneeze us both right out of the shop. Let's narrow down the choices. Hmmm. I think this "Apple Pie Spice" holds promise *sniffs it, smiles, hard to imagine bathing in a tubful of apple pie, but I know this hobbit and I think he might find that amusing* Oh, and here's soap to match the bubble bath. *reads the label, notes it brags of extra slippery lubricating properties, I am beginning to think this shop does understand the special needs of some couples* Ah, and shampoo, too. *gathering up an armload of Apple Pie scented items, chuckling* I have plans to make a pie of my own tonight.

Pippin: *grinning up at you* I will take your word for it, then. And once you've had your fill of pie, we will try something new, yes? *now pleased with our choice of bubble bath, I reach up for your hand, ready to go make use of these pleasant smelling items* We shall have to return to this place soon... when I am less impatient to have you all for myself.

Beregond: *I wonder how I'm to pay for these goods, and approach a clerk who merely asks me for my room number at the Ritz, breezing off a comment about 'putting it on my tab', and shooing us out the door* I don't know what a tab is, but it seems a handy item to have. *the next thing I know I'm being pulled along insistently towards the hotel, and I barely have time to nod and smile at the manager and bellhop as Pippin hauls me down the hallway and into our room*

Pippin: *once in the room, I bounce on my toes to swipe a container from your arms and rush into the bathroom. I give one of the spigots an experimental twist, waiting several minutes before I realise the tub is not filling. Yelling over my shoulder* Beregond, I think our tub may have a hole. *pouting slightly as I lean over the side of the tub, watching the water continue to spiral and disappear* Oh! *climbing into the tub, stepping over the hole and smiling as the water eventually reaches my ankle.* I have fixed it!

Beregond: You might want to get out and get your clothes off, Pip, let me look at that hole a minute. *fiddling about with various knobs and spigots and levers, when suddenly a light popping noise takes place and the tub begins to fill again* Ah, I think it's some sort of automatic cork device. When we are done, we pull the cork and the tub empties. I wonder where the water goes? *Gazing worriedly through the portal window, but I see no signs of water, only stars* One apple pie, coming right up. *dumping a generous amount of the bubble bath into the running water, smiling as I see it foam up*

Pippin: *having fully trusted your choice of bubble bath, I am still quite astonished by the fragrance that soon fills the air* Wherever the water goes, I am sure it will smell good there. *loosening my breeches and letting them fall to the floor, I step out of them and over to the tub once again* Shall you fill it to the top? How long will that take? I cannot say how long it will take you to learn my song, so we should probably start as soon as possible. *twisting to look up at you* Unless you meant to do more than sing? *reaching over the side of the tub, scooping up a handful of foam, smelling it, then sticking my tongue out to taste*

Beregond: *Dropping my own clothing and stepping into the tub, deep contented sigh at the warm water, much warmer than any bath I've had at home* Hop in here, then we will know how full to fill the tub! *laughing, having watched Bergil taste soap before, I simply let you indulge* So, does it taste like apples? *I can't help but wonder if a soapy tongue will interfere with Pippin's singing abilities*

Pippin: *shaking my head at your question, I frown and leave the bathroom, quickly returning with a pear, which I promptly take a bite out of before mumbling* If that is supposed to taste like apples, then I would be sure that pond scum is a delicacy here. *wrinkling my nose at your laughter, then removing the rest of my clothing and climbing in to join you* If you do not believe me... *taking another handful of foam and mashing it to your mouth* ...then try for yourself.

Beregond: *clamping my lips shut and trying hard not to laugh, I take your hand away and wipe the foam from my lips* There's an old saying I just made up right now, Pip. "You can paint purple daisies on a pig and put a hat on it, but underneath, it's still a pig" This is soap, and no matter how nicely it's been made to smell, it's all still soap. I'll save my appetite for other delectable things. *leaning to kiss your forehead for emphasis*

Pippin: *tilting my head and smiling at you* Once we are finished with our bath I would like to make use of the blank journal I saw in our room and write down this knowledgeable saying. *scooting closer to you, my hands on your legs as I move to settle myself between them* And once I'm back in the Shire, the next time I am accused of doing such things to Farmer Maggot's pigs, I will use this knowledge to my advantage. *nodding thoughtfully, then smiling again as my notions return to the present* I look forward to this appetite of yours, now that I know the bubbles will be of use to it.

Beregond: Poor Farmer Maggot! *laughing, I scoop a handful of water and dump it over your head before you can protest, then grab the bottle marked shampoo, and lather your head into a crown of bubbles* You've got much longer hair than I, I think you need the most attention here. *wrapping my legs around your back to hold you snugly close to me, I dig in my fingers and give you a good scalp massage, working the shampoo around*

Pippin: *I nearly ask why you feel such a way for that old Maggot, but all that comes out is a sputter of water, and then I'm quieted by the feel of your hands in my hair -- quite different how Merry would wash my hair, and if I were to choose one or the other to wash my hair for eternity, it would undoubtedly be you and your larger hands* But you are bigger. *attempting to focus on your wet chest as your scrubbing moves my head to and fro* So there is much more of you to wash, if you ask me. *reaching down to slip my hands along the inside of your thighs as I declare in a sing-song voice* More of you to pay attention to... more of you to love.

Beregond: *smiling, still massaging, fingers working behind your ears, down to your nape, enjoying the feel of slippery soapy hair, and then the addition of your fingers on me and your melodious voice, quite nice indeed* Then perhaps you should get started, if there is so much of me to cope with. *tightens my legs behind you just enough to make my point* You're not going anywhere for a while, so you might as well amuse yourself.

Pippin: *grinning and stilling my hands when I feel your legs tighten against me* Ah, but you haven't yet sang. Would you like to learn my song, Beregond? *letting my hands roam just a bit further, only enough to tease the area of your arousal, for I doubt that I will not be able to stop myself if I go any father.* And then... *squeezing my eyes shut as I feel soap suds beginning to trickle down my forehead, carefully peeking with one eye* ...perhaps my amusement will be your reward?

Beregond: *grabbing a cloth from the side of the tub to wipe the suds from your eyes* Yes, you have promised me this bath song nearly from the day we met. That was many months ago, in a place so far from here. Yet, we are together, we have a tub, and I think this hotel has probably never heard a finer song. Teach me. And then we will see about rewards.

Pippin: *keeping my hands to myself -- for now -- I nod excitedly, beginning to sing loudly* Sing hey! For the bath at close of day that washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing: O! Water hot is a noble thing! *slapping the water in merriment, grinning when I see that the splash caught you square in the face* Now... your turn. *watching you intently and waiting* It isn't all that much to remember.

Beregond: *clears throat, wishes I had a stiff drink, then decides to just get this over with and hope the management doesn't toss me out on my soapy behind* Sing hey! For the bath at close of day that washes the weary mud away! A loon is he that will not sing: O! Water hot is a noble thing! *laughs and slaps the water and accidentally drenches the wall and floor*

Pippin: *my eyes wide from the mini-tidal wave that only just rocked the tub, then simply grinning at you* You have potential, I think. *taking a deep breath, tipping my head back, then belting out the next verse* Ohhhh! Sweet is the sound of falling rain, and the brook that leaps from hill to plain; but wetter than rain or rippling streams is water hot that smokes and steams. *deciding that I shouldn't have you splashing again before we lose all our water, I quietly tilt my head, watching you* That one was quite easy, yes?

Beregond: *more? There's more? When do they find time to actually finish their baths?* All right, then. Potential, do I? *takes a deep breath* Ohhhhhsweetisthesoundoffallingrain, andthebrookthatleapsfromhilltoplain; butwetterthanrainorripplingstreams iswaterhotthatsmokesandsteams. *collapses and gasps for breath* I'm trying to save us from pruny skin, here.

Pippin: *watching you lean back and gasp, I smile as I raise myself from the water, moving closer to stand in front of you, clasping my hands at the back of your neck* You will not have prune skin, my Beregond. *lowering my head to kiss your shoulder, then singing close to your ear in a quieter voice, but with a smile still on my face* O! Water cold we may pour at need down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed; but better is beer, if drink we lack, and water hot poured down the back. *straightening up, I give you a quick kiss, knowing that this is when I would usually scrub my back, but feeling that a change in tradition isn't always a bad thing -- especially a change that brings me closer to you.*

Beregond: That was well sung - and I will not try to best you. I'd rather your singing voice be the last one to drift in the air tonight. *reaching behind you, pulling you tightly against my damp chest, running the washcloth up and down your back, shifting you to sit much closer, our legs wrapped around each other tightly* Tell me if I am missing any spots...

Pippin: *nodding, pressing my cheek to yours* There are many. But there is yet another verse. *pulling away just enough to look into your eyes, reaching up to thread my fingers in your hair* And yet, I do not believe I will be able to finish in this fashion. *My free hand delving into the water between our legs, brushing past my own need until yours is warm and heavy in my hand, my strokes moving slowly along your slippery length*

Beregond: *gasping at your touch, the soapy water creating quite a nice feel with your movements* I.. could not sing right now anyway. Perhaps we could finish the song tomorrow. Right now, oh... *hands flat on your back, holding onto you, lips pressed to the top of your damp, clean hair, moaning. I have missed you more than I realized lately*

Pippin: *noting that this is perhaps one of my favourite things about you -- how you can become so hard and yet so soft elsewhere, in touch, and sound, and taste...* Tomorrow, yes. *the words barely out of my mouth before I'm quick to swallow your next moan, kissing you deeply, until we only hear the slosh of water between us, its undulations keeping a rhythm that matches the pace of my hand*

Beregond: *determined to give you a touch of what I'm feeling now, but not quite yet, for the moment I'm lost in warm water and touch and taste, the smell of apples in the air and any memories of the black gates far, far behind me. I hold onto both you and the kiss for dear life, until finally I pull my lips abruptly from yours to moan your name, pulsing in your hand*

Pippin: Oh, water hot is a noble thing. *I sigh, shifting forward in your
lap, gasping when my hardness comes in contact with your taut belly.* You are still missing a spot. *my legs suddenly weak, my hand trembling as I attempt to position myself properly on your lap, my haste to feel that which I once feared would only dwell in my memory causing causes me to lose hold of you.* A place deep inside of me, Beregond. Please.

Beregond: *Feeling you squirm against me nearly makes me come right there and then, but I bite my lip, hard, and concentrate on keeping control. I help you shift, hands on your waist, guiding, my eyes growing wide as I gain some entrance, thinking I should have helped ready you, but you've been -so- insistent, I can only hope this hot bath and so much slippery soap will do the trick*

Pippin: *A whimper escapes me the moment I feel you against my opening, and then you're filling me, stretching me in a way that you've never done before -- not without the aid of your fingers beforehand. I would cry out your name, in a mixture of pleasure and pain, if I were not biting down on my tongue in such a manner, if my hands were not curled into such tight fists, my eyes squeezed shut.*

Beregond: *halfway inside you, I see the look on your face, and hold very still, giving you time to adjust. Stroking your skin, I softly start to sing the first verse of your bath song, a small smile on my face. When I've finished, I kiss your forehead, still holding in place, waiting for you to make the next move, only you will know when you are ready*

Pippin: *relaxing at your touch, at the sound of your voice, your singing, I open my eyes and gaze into yours, sinking further onto you until I'm completely filled by you, completely filled with love for you -- the same love I think I may see in your eyes* You remembered my song. *I breathe, smiling even as I tremble* I was right about... *another deep breath* ...your potential.

Beregond: Of course I did. I'll never forget it. *realizing with a start you've taken me in completely now* Are you all right now? Because, love... I would very much like to, um, move a little? *and just about now you notice the look of crazed lustdriven desperation on my face*

Pippin: *nodding slowly, still breathing deeply though more evenly.* Last we were in this position, I... *lowering my eyes* ...thought I might never stop crying. And our union was dampened by my thoughts, the inevitability of your departure. But now, *reaching up, placing my hands on your shoulders* ...it feels like we may have forever. SO if you would like to move, my Beregond, you may, as long as you do not stop for anything but your own exhaustion. *leaning in to kiss your lips* And if you please, I will do the same. *using your shoulders as leverage, raising myself until I can hear the droplets of water that roll off my skin, then lowering myself again, moaning your name in chorus with the splatter and splash of bathwater.*

Beregond: Oh, Pip - that's.. incredible. If you keep doing THAT, I will be content to just sit here and watch you. *eyes growing larger as you move once more* Oh, definitely. *one hand pushing about in the water seeking something, smiling as I find what I look for, fingers curling around your hardness, eyes holding yours*

Pippin: Ah! *gasping when I you touch me, gripping your shoulders more tightly, my fingers curling* That is doing much more than watching, Beregond. *finding that I can no longer watch your face as I continue my motions, I close my eyes and tip my head back* Oh... I must tell you... that you are no longer missing any... spots. *one of my hands slipping from your shoulder, sliding down your chest, my curious fingers finding one of your hard nipples and giving a pinch.* But I believe... *stifling a moan and I once again sink down onto your hard length* ... that I have found a new one.

Beregond: Oh! Yes... you have. *shuddering from waist to collarbone at that pinch* Pippin, if you keep doing that, I am most assuredly going to hit another spot very, very soon. I can't hold back much longer. *quickening my motions on you, determined that if I'm going to pieces soon I'm taking you with me.*

Pippin: *my other hand leaves your shoulder, and yet I still continue to move without their support, my fingers promptly manipulating both your nipples, until your sounds and pleasurable touch causes something deep within me to unravel* Oh, love... love! It feels-- *shuddering as I sink onto your lap one last time, my legs tightening around you before I slump forward against your chest, clinging to you as I whimper your name*

Beregond: Yes, it feels like that, Pippin... *that last time you drop onto my lap pulls me over the edge, and my arms fly about you to hold you very tightly as I spend myself, then with a sigh, I lean back against the back of the tub, still holding you in my arms* Oh. I think I like bathtime. And your songs. And bubble bath

Pippin: And apple pie. *smiling against your neck, sniffing you and the heavenly scent that I hope will stay with you for the remainder of the night. And tomorrow. And the day after.* Would you like to know what it really feels like, Beregond. *excited to have finally put words to such a feeling*

Beregond: *grinning, your attitude very infectious* Yes, Pippin, tell me if you can! *relaxed, I'm lounging in warm water, completely at ease and well, very un-pent now, I could listen to you talk for hours. Tell me what it feels like, my love. *tugging you up for another kiss before I lose your lips to hobbit talk*

Pippin: Do you remember my scarf? The one I wore when we first met? *grinning, then returning your kiss* The day you laid eyes on your first hobbit.

Beregond: I remember. Your tailored jacket, more fitting a shopkeeper than a soldier, but then, you were not yet a soldier of Gondor. Pants much to short. *grinning, pushing back wet hair from your cheeks to tuck behind your ears* A long scarf, was it green, I think?

Pippin: Yes, it was. *tilting my head* Too short, is it? Well, I'll have you know that I thought you were much too tall. *twisting to touch one of your biceps, finding it impossible to wrap my fingers around its thickness* And your arms too big and long. *turning a probing eye on you, pensive for a moment* But...I suppose that is a good thing with the amount of ale I've seen you drink. It needs to have somewhere to go. *nodding thoughtfully, then merely blinking* I fear that I've forgotten what I was talking about, Beregond.

Beregond: *softly, smiling in amusement* You were going to tell me what it really feels like.. and by It, I think you meant the little event that had us both gasping for air a few minutes ago. *kisses your nose* If you can't find the words, I don't mind. I found the feeling and it is more than enough.

Pippin: No, no. *shaking my head* I remember. Although I am sure the feeling you have found is much better. *kissing your chin, then smiling* My scarf has seen many a day. And there is a thread that hangs loose. *speaking more softly* Being with you... the feeling that comes after... it is like... *closing my eyes* ...I am the scarf, with a loose string. Enjoying so much pleasure and yet terrified of the consequences... until the very moment when you yank... *my eyes snapping open* ... the string, and I come apart blindingly fast much too tired to care that I am only a pile of disentangled wool. Only to eventually become whole again after a long night's rest with my Beregond. *smiling*

Beregond: That... was quite profound. I do that to you? Well, then, I think that if you are feeling that disentangled, there is only one fix for it. *carefully eases you back, lifts you up, separating us finally, then stands to step from the tub, lifting you out as well* And that fix is some large towels, followed by a glass of wine for each of us, as we sit on that big bed. And after that, long nights sleep, together. Pippin.... that huge bed out there is for -us-.