Massage

Chapter Two

Oil

 

Frodo keeps a small book of his appointments, and since there are several of us with him here, he likes to use it so that he is sure to show no one of us any favoritism. I put my name in his book requesting an evening he had free, and began to prepare. Though I doubted I would ever be able to give him the same level of pleasure he always gave me, I gathered together the tools I would need to make my night with him one he would remember long. I had made a white silk dress, of elven design, with tiny buttons running up the front. It was cut both low and high, and it was something I intended to wear over a demure chemise, but for this occasion, I planned on wearing nothing whatsoever under it. I found a worn piece of wood that had been sanded to satin smoothness, it’s knobs and length fitted comfortably in my hands. I used similar ones to reach the deepest muscles of the back, but this one I would use on no one but him. Last of all, I prepared the oils.

My sisters and I use herb flavored oils in cooking, and I have long known how to draw the essence of a summer flower or scent of leaf into a fine draught of it, but the ones I prepared this time were special. These were flavored with apple and spices, almond and honey, even summer blueberry and all as delicious to taste as they were to smell. I chuckled wickedly, imagining these tastes mingled with the heady scent and already sweet taste of him. It was an image that invaded my mind even as I worked and set me to daydreaming for long hours as I awaited my time with him.

When the appointed evening finally came, I gathered my tools together and placed them all in a covered basket. I donned my gown and examined my reflection in the mirror. I looked positively obscene dressed this way, and the sight gave me a chuckle. I had promised to be gentle with him, but I suddenly realized I had absolutely no intention of being so! I draped my self with a soft, shapeless cloak and proceeded to Frodo’s room.

He was waiting for me and drew me inside with polite courtesy. I set my basket down and looked about. The fire was bright and the room was warm, the bed had been turned back to reveal crisp white sheets under a fine, soft quilt. I had been to this room many times before, but that night the very air seemed to crackle with my excitement.

“What have you brought?” Frodo asked curiously looking at my basket. His voice sounded so innocent and unguarded.

“Delights…” I answered cryptically, but instead of clarifying, I gestured towards the bed. “Shall we begin, my lord?” I asked.

“What do you wish me to do?” His tone was softer then, more sensual. I could not hide my delighted smile.

“First, I must prepare you.” I said and reached to gently remove his waistcoat. Then I slipped his braces first off of one shoulder, then the other, leaving them to hang tantalizingly from his hips. I must have been blushing when I pulled his shirt from his breeches and begin unbuttoning it from the bottom up. He was smiling at me but with amusement. When I had it undone, I asked him to take it off and lie upon the bed on his stomach. He obliged and sighed as he settled comfortably in the center, his head resting on his arms.

“Look towards the fire, my lord.” I said, and he did so. Hidden from his view, I slipped out of my cloak and reached into my basket for a bottle of the oil I had prepared and the smooth piece of wood. I slipped the vial between my breasts to warm it and proceeded to the bed. The pale expanse of his back lay before me like an unmarked canvas. I put the wood on the bed and wiggled my fingers to limber them. I had imagined this scene in my mind for days, and the imminent reality of it gave me pause. His skin was so smooth, and except for the scars he would bear to the end of his days, flawless. I reached up to his neck and my hands grasped his shoulders. My thumbs made deep, circling motions into and around the tissues there. I worked these muscles for several minutes and I could feel him relaxing easily under my hands.

“Oh, yes…” he sighed and closed his eyes in delight. The sight of his long lashes lying against his ruddy cheek was an image I had long cherished and I leaned forward to kiss that cheek, unable to resist. He smiled, too relaxed to stir. “Your hands ARE soothing, my love. I have denied myself a treat, it seems.” I smiled but said nothing, concentrating on the rest of his delicious muscles instead.

I kept my touch soft, but strong, and using the smooth, rounded end of the stick of wood, dug deep into the knotted muscles of his back. By the end of a half an hour Frodo was completely limp under me. He was unguarded, and probably no more than a hair’s breadth from sleep. I smiled wickedly. Now, I could begin in earnest. I slipped my hands under him from both sides at his waist and he jumped as he felt my fingers at the buttons of his trousers. “Relax…” I commanded, and he did so almost unwillingly. I then slipped the trousers down his legs revealing his hips, rounded buttocks, and strong, lean thighs. It was a sight I had seen before, but one I cannot help savoring each time I am privileged to it. “Now, the legs…” I explained, and proceeded to kneed the muscles of his upper thigh with my fingers and the knobby sides of the stick. He was tense at first, not sure what I meant to do, but soon was relaxing again as I worked my way down his legs. At his feet I stopped, and touched the vial of oil between my breasts. It had warmed through and I smiled again. It was time. I finished by a vigorous and penetrating massage of his feet – something that drew a groan of pleasure from him, but did not arouse his suspicions. I shook my hands to ease them, for the work had tired me, and allowed him a moment’s reprieve.

“Hmmmm….” Frodo sighed. “I can see what Bilbo means by ‘soothing as warm milk’ my dearest. You HAVE talent…” The words were mumbled into the bed sheets and slurred by his slack, relaxed lips. I took the vial of oil from my breasts. A vague scent drifted from around its stopper. I gathered up my skirts and climbed onto the bed to gently straddle his back. He was instantly aware of my nakedness beneath the outer garment and his eyes flew open.

“Not yet…” I whispered as I dropped the silk of my skirts behind me over his legs and carefully opened the vial. The sweet scent of apples and cinnamon drifted into the fire lit room and Frodo frowned curiously.

“What is that?” He whispered.


TBC

Go To Chapter Three

BACK to Story Index