Moan
Nine: Our muses do the deed
Legolas was aware that for Saelbeth, the whole prospect of lovemaking was wrong and most likely frightening. The prince tried his best to show his friend, that such was not the case, that there was nothing to be afraid of but plenty to enjoy. It had already been a miracle that this even came to be, Saelbeth laying beneath the prince who had rid the councelor of his garments already, now in the process of removing his armor. It had to be the wine, Legolas mused, they had both sipped a little to calm fluttering nerves, yet not enough to drown their senses. They were both fully aware of their doings, Legolas would not have it any other way. He treated Saelbeth gently, with tender care and sweet words, fleeting touches and soft smiles. Eventually he felt Saelbeth's fingers clutching his shoulders as he entered him as carefully as possible and not without thorough, slick preperation beforehand of course. As he molded with Saelbeth like this, he felt the other's heartbeat knock against his own ribcage as if to coax his heart into an embrace. It had been a wonderful experience and afterwards they rested, limbs entangled and hairs fanned out in silken messes as they enjoyed each others company.










