Sleeping Over
A Lord of the Rings fanfic

"Sleepover", they called it, but it had meant something special for a long time, and Marigold's sisters gone for the weekend, and her father and brothers all sound sleepers, not to be woken by something as small as a hint of squeaking springs or even a gentle rhythmic thump of the bed against the wall. Rosie had dinner with the family, her ankle brushing against Mari's under the table, and then a bath, during which they were very very quiet as they soaped each other's backs, breasts, buttocks, curls, kissed with their bodies pressed up all slippery against each other, their wet hair clinging to each other's shoulders. They dried up next to the fire while the lads had their bath, curled up together under the blankets, their hands on each other's secret clefts, moving, caressing, circling with repressed sighs and moans drowned in each other's mouths.

'Oh stars, I wish you weren't Sam's, really,' whispered Marigold, and as they heard the lads in the hallway they quickly sprung apart.

By then, it was not long before bedtime, and they retired. They quietly kissed and fondled each other under the mountain of blankets on Marigold's bed (for her room was drafty and the fall was getting on), waiting for the snoring to start. Rosie kissed Marigold's ear, her neck, her collar bone, buried under the blankets, kissed and sucked her breasts, Mari's hands in her hair, and Rosie dipped lower until her nose pressed into Marigold's dark lower curls, fragrant with sweat and soap - the same soap Sam used, and for a fleeting moment Rosie felt guilty, but then Sam had ditched her to go to the Smials for the weekend with Mr Frodo, and Rosie was damned if she'd sit around chaste like a nice girl waiting for someone who never got around to asking her. And besides, Marigold asked.

'They're still talking,' Marigold gasped, but Rosie nuzzled her regardless, mercilessly probing the puffed lips, until the curls parted and she flicked her tongue out, and heard Mari stifle a moan. She wrapped her arms around Mari's legs and set to work, licking her cunny open, tasting the juices within. She climbed up after a while, along the sweat-slick contours of Mari, and kissed her silent while she teased her with her fingers, slick and skilled and absolutely without mercy. Mari buried her moans into Rosie's hair, and between them whispered pleas and promises, until she came, as quiet as she could, over Rosie's two fingers, her body tight as a bow, and collapsed among the pillows, her open mouth a silhouette in the moonlight.

'You're a horror,' she gasped, love on her breath.

She showed Rosie no more mercy either, later when she had her own finger inside her, and her tongue on Rosie's pearl. They did not stop until morning was closer to midnight and the room heated and smelling of sex. Rosie paused mid-grind, clutching the bedpost, Marigold's arms holding her hips tightly, as the pleasure rushed through her again, tight and full, and Mari lapped up her juices. She collapsed next to Mari, and the girl clambered up to hold her, hot and very much in need of another bath. 'Oh stars,' was all she managed, though she'd meant to say "Good thing you're the one who does the laundry." Mari kissed her with lips slick and pink with their recent work. Rosie leaned into her, breathed in her scent, and was asleep within minutes.