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Sailing the Straight Road

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The wind had picked up, causing the ocean to swell and whitecaps to form. The crew fought with the ropes and sails to keep the ship on course - the Straight Road was not always an easy passage. A ship was a noisy place, the sound of the wind and ocean was deafening and it meant that the sailors could barely hear the voices of those standing next to them. Which was fortuitous for the King of Eryn Lasgalen.

For in the only cabin befitting an edhel of his standing, the King was on his bed and on his knees, head down into the sheets as he tried in vain to silence his screams. His long golden hair no longer straight and silken but drenched in sweat, hiding the expressions of pleasure on his face as his hands clawed at the sheets. Underneath his body, his cock was long, pale, dead straight and weeping, with a long strand of fluid oozing from its slit to the bed. He was desperate for release and for any kind of touch on his cock, but two massive hands clenching and spreading his cheeks held him in position.

“You have such a beautiful hole, my lord,” mouthed the edhel into the King’s cheeks. “So pink, and ready for me.”

He returned to his task, licking a long stripe from the king’s balls along the crease before plunging his tongue deep inside. His enormous hands had such a tight grip there would soon be bruising but the King was beyond caring as he pushed back, encouraging his partner to go deeper.

“I can’t take it any more,” gasped the King. “Oil yourself and fuck me now.”

The edhel growled in response, moving away to view the hole he’d left gaping and wet. He lent back to reach a vial of scented oil that had been left on a side table, pouring some into the palm of his right hand. Keeping a hold of his lover’s hip with his left, he covered his enormous and throbbing cock with the oil.

It was a cock that belonged on an animal rather than one of the firstborn. Thicker than his wrist and longer than three fists, it was veiny and the foreskin covered the head even when fully engorged. Precome drooled out of the slit in anticipation, as the edhel slowly stroked himself. When it was covered in oil and glistening he pressed it against the King’s entrance, letting him feel its weight and heat.

A cock that large should have been a challenge for the King. But this was not his first time, and the edhel slid slowly and smoothly into the warm and clenching hole. He gave his lord no time to adjust before he started to fuck, drawing all the way out before slamming back.

The King howled from the stretch and the burn, but took pleasure from it too. The edhel lifted his knee to place a foot on the bed to steady himself and increase his rhythm. He pounded his lover relentlessly, desperately trying to release all the frustration and passion he felt in that moment.

The King was beyond forming words, just a constant whine from the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure spread from his arse and up his spine to explode in his mind. Very few edhil had ever known the joy of this, the ultimate sin, but for Thranduil its forbidden nature only made acts like these even sweeter.

His partner wrapped an arm around Thranduil’s chest and lifted up his torso, forcing the King to arch and lean back so that he could kiss his beloved as they sped towards their climax. Dropping that arm to wrap his hand around Thranduil’s cock, the edhel started to masturbate the King at a speed to match his own thrusts.

Thranduil gave in to the bliss. A mere two minutes passed before his cock unleashed its seed onto the bed and the wall behind it, signifying a climax that seemed endless in the moment. With his body clenching around the massive cock of his partner, the edhel exploded into the King and flooded his hole, his spunk leaking out to cover their legs.

Thranduil no longer had the strength to support himself, collapsing onto the bed which caused his lover to follow, the pair still joined. There they remained with no words spoken, the edhel occasionally kissing his lover’s neck, tasting the salty sweat that still pooled there, until the rocking of the vessel sent them both to sleep.

When Beledoron woke, the sea had calmed and the moon was shining brightly into the cabin. He was alone in the bed but his arm could still feel the warmth of his partner, indicating he had not been gone for long. When he opened his eyes he could see his lover, still naked, sitting in a chair just watching him.

“You know, it would be more comfortable for both of us if you were back in bed with me,” he said to Thranduil.

“I had to wash, I could not stand being covered in our seed any longer,” replied the King.

“That disappoints me. Does it mean I cannot persuade you to get filthy again?” flirted Beledoron, removing the sheets covering his body to reveal himself completely.

Thranduil smiled but said nothing. The lovers maintained a heavy silence, both knowing that they were on borrowed time.

“The Sun will rise soon,” said Thranduil. “I expect to hear that the Tower of Avallonë has been spotted soon after.”

“I know.”

The pair stayed quiet, wishing that sunrise would stay away.

“Before we arrive, I just want to say something to you,” began Thranduil. “You have always been the one with kind words, not me. But we may never have the chance to be like this with each other ever again and I just wanted you to know that I have never loved anyone as much as I have loved you,” he said in a rush, as though embarrassed to voice his feelings.

Beledoron did not immediately reply, but he smiled and held out his hand.

“I never doubted that for a second,” he said. “You are the most frustrating and ridiculous person I have ever known, and my love for you is greater than you could ever imagine. So in our final hours together, what would you rather do? Burden yourself with thoughts of the troubles to come, or bury yourself in my body one last time?”

The King did not answer but he stood and returned to the bed, lying his body on top of Beledoron’s. In the moonlight his golden hair turned silver and Beledoron was mesmerised at the sight.

With tears threatening to fall, the last Elven King of Middle-Earth and his loyal guardsman brought their lips together and the lovers remained joined until the first call of “Land ho!” could be heard.

Apart from the glorious tower and its quays, the city of Avallonë was a crowded and haphazard place. Its whitewashed buildings and narrow streets were heaving with thousands of new arrivals from Middle-Earth, all trying to begin new lives from scratch.

As his ship squeezed into the busy docks, Thranduil stood on deck in his finest robes and his golden hair restrained by a crown of emeralds. He knew that the royalty of Valinor would consider him no more than a provincial upstart, but he refused to submit to their authority just yet. Ruling for thousands of years had to mean something.

He turned to survey his troops, the last two dozen edhil of Eryn Lasgalen who had stayed with him until the end. Resolutely commanded by their captain, Beledoron, who stood at attention along with his soldiers, with only the occasional glance at the King revealing his anxiety.

“When you step foot on the quay,” began Thranduil. “You will no longer be soldiers of Eryn Lasgalen, or subjects of mine, instead this will be the beginning of a new life for you all. Every one of you has a new world to explore, and perhaps even family to rediscover. But remember, to be fierce, be fearless and with every action, remind them of the respect we deserve and have earned.”

Dismissing them with a glance, he turned back to the port, looking for a familiar face among the crowds. The thought of having to face his father or his wife terrified the King, which was why he jumped a little when the felt the presence of another standing on his left, just slightly behind. But from the corner of his eye he could see that familiar dark blond hair, and he relaxed. If there was a way for the two of them to have a future together in Valinor, Thranduil would find it.