Peace Of Mind

Imrahil lay under his blankets and tried to ignore his throbbing cock. He refused to touch himself, even though he ached so badly for relief that he had to bite back his moans. He wished his flesh would learn to obey his will. He sighed once more and turned over on to his back. The soft sheets grated on the underside of his stiffened member and he ground his teeth as clear fluid pooled on his belly. He felt it begin to dry and come morning, knew the sheets would be stiff.

The betrothal party lasted far into the night and the young prince was forced to tug fitfully at his tunic to hide his sexual state and smile sweetly at the bride and groom. Meanwhile, his eyes strayed constantly to Denethor, his sister’s future husband. Once or twice he could have sworn Denethor stared back, but he’d never been sure enough to approach the young lord.

He went rigid and closed his eyes tightly as he heard someone try his door. He couldn’t imagine who it might be, unless it was his father come to chastise his inattentiveness at the party. Decidedly, feigning sleep was far better than sitting with an aching erection through his father’s lecture. The door opened and then closed softly. Imrahil heard foot steps on the thick carpets and frowned slightly. The tread was different than his father’s.

“Prince Imrahil?”

Imrahil jerked into a sitting position and stared through the darkness at the object of his lust. “Lord Denethor? What are you doing here?” Imrahil’s heart galloped from his chest to his throat and then raced down to his toes.

The dark haired man looked awkward as he stood beside Imrahil’s bed. His tunic was unlaced and his hair disheveled, as if he’d been in bed and then dressed abruptly. “Were you asleep?” He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and looked as unsure of himself as a youth in a brothel.

Imrahil made sure his nakedness was covered, not out of decorum, but simply because he couldn’t bear the thought of Denethor seeing his weeping cock. “I’m too nervous to sleep,” he half lied.

“I suppose you are excited as well.”

Imrahil almost laughed out loud. Yes, indeed, he was excited and growing more so by the moment. “Well, it is not every day that one’s sister weds the future ruler of Gondor.”

“No, I suppose not. Well, good-night, then.” Denethor turned slowly, as if disappointed about something.

“Wait,” Imrahil called out. “You came here to ask me if I was excited about my sister’s wedding?”

“I thought—oh, well, no mind what I thought.” Denethor stopped by the door as if he’d changed his mind and came forward again and sat down on the side of the bed. “May I tell you something?”

Imrahil nodded, then realized that Denethor might not be able to see him in the darkness and said yes.

“I could hardly take my eyes off you all evening. I think you are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Was this a trap? Was the future ruler of Gondor trying to trick him somehow? “You shouldn’t say that to me. You are about to wed my sister.”

“I know, and I apologize if I offend. But I thought if I did not say so now, then I would never have the chance to tell you.” He shrugged and moved to get up.

Impulsively, Imrahil reached out and grabbed Denethor by his wrist. In a rush, he told Denethor about his longing and fear of rejection. Speaking his thoughts aloud felt good.
And when Denethor leaned down and kissed him, Imrahil thought he might melt into the sheets. Denethor slithered his tongue deep into Imrahil’s mouth, swirled it around until he tasted every recess. As he withdrew, Imrahil captured his tongue and sucked it languorously until Denethor whimpered plaintively.

“There is some thing else I’d like to do that to,” Imrahil said as he released Denethor from the sweet torture.

Denethor gulped and his cock, grown stiff in his loosely laced breeches, twitched free. He laughed self-consciously. “I think that some thing is eager.”

Imrahil still chuckled as he lowered his mouth and wrapped his lips around Denethor’s thick shaft. Vibrations traveled along his length and Denethor inhaled sharply and stretched out to give Imrahil easier access. He ran his hand through the soft brown hair and over the shell of Imrahil’s ear causing him to moan.

Applying as much pressure as he could, Imrahil concentrated on pleasuring Denethor as fully as possible. He salved the head of Denethor’s cock with his tongue before slowly gliding the tip of his tongue over the slit. Then he flattened his tongue and flexed it quickly a few times while his hand stroked the lower portion of the shaft near Denethor’s balls.

Denethor wriggled in delight and his breath grew harsh. At last, he grasped Imrahil by the hair and lifted his head to give him a long, lingering kiss that left them both a bit breathless and flushed. Next, he helped Imrahil turn so that they lay at a slight angle to one another and then he moistened his finger. Deftly, he inserted his digit deeply into Imrahil’s opening and grinned broadly as the prince gasped and moaned. With his other hand, he gently guided Imrahil’s head back down to his cock.

He continued to wriggle his finger, pushing in until his knuckles thrust against the tight muscles. Every push seemed to drive Imrahil closer to the edge and his head rapidly bobbed up and down on Denethor’s slick cock. He felt the muscles twitching and convulsing around his finger and inserted a second. Imrahil’s moan rose in pitch and his fingers dug into Denethor’s thigh while his hips jerked.

Taking his fingers out of Imrahil, he moved a way and stretched out completely on the bed. Licking his lips suggestively, he told Imrahil to straddle his face. Confused by Denethor’s request, Imrahil settled so that his cock dangled over the Gondorian’s lips. But Denethor laughed and shifted the lighter man until he was in the appropriate position. He spread Imrahil’s cheeks wide with his palms and lifted his head until his tongue lapped at the willing opening.

Imrahil’s whole body jerked and he shouted “oh,” as Denethor’s tongue penetrated him. Without thinking, he pushed down, driving Denethor’s wet tongue deeper. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself briskly while Denethor’s tongue teased his entrance. He bit his lip and groaned loudly as cum pearled on the head of his cock.

Denethor lost himself in the moment as he plunged his tongue in and out of Imrahil. Resistance was minimal as his flexible tongue penetrated the tiny opening. Weight pressed him further down into the mattress and he dug his fingers so hard into Imrahil’s flesh that the pale skin bruised. His tongue grew a little tired and he smacked Imrahil lightly.

Taking the hint, Imrahil climbed off of Denethor and turned around. His face was flushed and his eyes over bright. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Denethor’s throat and kissed a slow trail down the center of his chest. He licked up the droplets of cum on Denethor's cock with an impish grin.

Denethor stroked Imrahil’s back. “I want to bury more than my tongue inside your sweetness.”

Imrahil lifted his head and nodded his assent before getting to his knees. He faced the headboard and clutched the top with both hands. Casting a look over his shoulder, he wiggled his bottom suggestively. Denethor came up behind him and kissed him as he pushed his hips forward and rubbed his cock over Imrahil’s ass. Gently, he guided his cock between Imrahil’s cheeks and nudged the tight hole. Imrahil shifted, spreading his thighs wider and thrust back, urging Denethor on.

Thrusting his hips forward, the Gondorian sheathed himself fully, nearly lifting Imrahil off his knees with the force of it. Imrahil threw back his head and growled low in his throat as Denethor’s cock stretched him wide.

“Ride me,” Denethor ordered as he began thrusting in and out of Imrahil’s ass.

Imrahil complied, holding on to the headboard, and thrusting back hard to meet every one of Denethor’s thrusts. He grunted and panted with effort and dimly heard Denethor’s whistling breath in his ear. His body trembled violently as each thrust brought him closer to climax. He felt a hand wrap around his cock and stroke him. His knuckles whitened on the headboard and he flung back his head until the veins on his neck stood out in sharp relief. Fire raged through his loins as he spilled his seed into Denethor’s palm. His body convulsed, the inner muscles tightening and squeezing until Denethor gasped aloud and own body went rigid as he emptied his seed into Imrahil.

They collapsed on to the bed in a tangle of sweaty arms and legs and lay there panting from their exertions. Denethor pulled the blankets over them and held Imrahil until he fell asleep. When he was sure the prince slept soundly, he crept from the bed and gathered his clothes.