How could cleaning a blade look so damn erotic?! Estel wondered as
he peeked around the corner.
He was to fetch their guest for supper but stopped when he saw the
shirtless elf straddling the bench. The foster son of Elrond watched
silently as the visiting prince of Mirkwood drizzled oil onto the
blade laying across his lap.
Legolas took a cloth and slowly stroked the blade, the muscles in
his forearm stood out as he moved his hand back and forth…back and
forth.
Estel felt his leggings grow unbearably tight and his breathing grow
shallow. He had always had a crush on the beautiful Sinda and for
some reason, seeing him thusly was driving his poor young hormones
ragged. He pressed himself tightly against the wall, praying Legolas
would not see him. Unconsciously, his body began rubbing itself
along the wall in time with Legolas' strokes on his weapon, dreaming
of the day those hands would be on him.
The wood-elf reached for the bottle of oil and held it high as he
let the viscous fluid splatter onto the matching knife…and onto his
stomach.
Estel gasped when Legolas lazily ran his fingers through the oil on
his skin. The long archer's fingers traced circles around his navel
then slowly made a trail that ended just below the waistband of his
leggings. Estel just knew he was about to pass out and was glad when
Legolas picked up the cloth and resumed rubbing in the oil.
After a few moments, Legolas stopped stroking the knife and held it
up before his face.
What was he doing now?! Estel choked silently to himself.
Opening his lips slightly and leaning forward, he breathed out onto
the blade causing the surface to fog. He did it twice more…slowly,
deliberately.
Estel felt his ears roar and his vision went black as his young body
spent itself in his leggings. He collapsed to the floor in a daze
and did not see the sinful
smile on Legolas' beautiful lips.
END
