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silmsmutweek · 1 year

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The Hunters

Day 7: Fem!Maedhros/Aredhel, 2016 words, explicit

Written also for this prompt at @silmkinkmeme

Read also on Ao3

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It is not often that Irissë attends various celebrations and festivities her grandfather is so fond of. More often than not, she is away from Tirion with the Hunt of Oromë or alone with her cousin, who feels as stifled in the city as she does.

But the invitation has come from her eldest cousin personally, and Irissë is well aware of what it means.

There is an impatient tingle in her belly even before she sees Maitimë. When her cousin finally arrives, Irissë has to sit on her hands, so she won’t start touching herself in public.

Maitimë is wearing a backless dress, ethereal and flowing. Her fiery hair is in an elaborate updo, displaying her flawless neck and strong shoulders. Her back muscles move seamlessly under soft skin, and Irissë’s cunt clenches involuntarily.

She doesn’t know if her cousin is aware of Irissë’s weakness for bare shoulders. It pleases her to think that Maitimë has chosen to wear this dress specifically for Irissë, but the truth is they had never spoken of it. They don’t have that kind of relationship, and they are both happy with it.

Maitimë glides amid the nobles with practiced ease. The crowd parts before her like waves before a ship. Anyone who secretly whispers that Fëanáro’s first son should be his true heir has never met Maitimë.

Graceful isn’t the first word Irissë would choose to describe her, even though of grace she has plenty. But above all, she is strong and effortlessly confident in a way that seems innate. That was what attracted Irissë in the first place, even before she knew there was truth in the rumors that Finwë’s eldest grandchild takes only female lovers.

Maitimë catches her look across the hall. Her lips twitch. Irissë presses her legs together. She has to be patient and wait until Maitimë is finished with her social duties and can focus only on Irissë.

At last, her torment nears its end. With an elegant movement, Maitimë beckons her, and Irissë follows as a faithful hound.

Maitimë is already naked by the time Irissë finds her. Her long form is reclined against the pillows on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Irissë’s knees go weak.

“Fuck,” she says.

“Is that how you greet your cousin after so long?” Maitimë asks with a smirk.

She uncrosses her legs and stares, unabashed, at Irissë. Maitimë usually keeps her bush trimmed, but she has let it grow now, and Irissë’s throat goes dry as she takes in Maitimë’s long legs, her glistening cunt, framed by dark red curls, and Maitimë’s full breasts with large, light brown nipples.

It has been too long since Irissë bedded a woman. She hungers. Her own need nearly forgotten, she disrobes swiftly and pounces on Maitimë.

For a moment, Irissë is dizzy with the smell of her, the heat of her soft skin, the sound of her silvery laughter. She wants everything all at once. She doesn’t know where to touch Maitimë. There is so much of her to touch.

Finally, she cups Maitimë’s breasts. The tender flesh overspills from her hands. Irissë’s own breasts are easy enough to cup even with one hand, especially with Maitimë’s large, long-fingered one.

Maitimë’s nipples are still smooth and soft, so Irissë makes it her mission to harden them. She runs her tongue along the blue vein visible under the skin. Maitimë shivers. Encouraged, Irissë takes the nub into her mouth, circling it with her tongue. Maitimë’s quiet sigh is Irissë’s reward. She gives the same treatment to the other nipple, then buries her face in Maitimë’s breasts, kissing and biting gently, until Maitimë tugs at her braids.

“There is a better use for your mouth,” she says.

She is panting already, and so is Irissë, her breasts pressing against Maitimë’s rapidly rising and falling abdomen.

Irissë slides down between Maitimë’s legs and plunges her tongue into Maitimë’s slick cunt. Maitimë’s hand tightens around her braids, both in pleasure and in warning lest Irissë forget herself and let her tongue dive deeper than Maitimë allows her. Irissë drinks her in, her mouth sucking at Maitimë’s lips, her tongue exploring every crevice and circling Maitimë’s clit. She then brings a hand to rub gently at the spot, while she reaches with her other hand for Maitimë’s breast.

Maitimë cries out - a passionate, untethered sound. Her heels dig into Irissë’s back, her strong thighs imprison Irissë between them. Not for the first time, Irissë imagines how fetching Maitimë would look in hunting breeches, imagines Maitimë riding alongside her, her thick hair in a simple hunting braid. After the hunt, she would drag Maitimë behind a bush and finger her braid while Maitimë would be fingering her. They would emerge together, and everyone would see Maitimë’s disheveled hair and Irissë’s blissful look and know. They would know that Maitimë would never be theirs, but she could be Irissë’s whenever she liked.

She moans still mouthing at Maitimë’s sex.

“You are doing so well,” Maitimë pants haltingly. “Your sweet mouth will be the end of me.”

Irissë flushes, the praise making her want to do even better, to bring Maitimë even more pleasure. Heat blooms low in her belly and swirls down. Her cunt is throbbing, aching for a touch. She dives into Maitimë’s wetness with renewed vigor and sucks on her clit, focusing on the unrestrained, loud cries that are spilling out of Maitimë’s sensual lips, on the tightening of Maitimë’s fingers in Irissë’s hair, on the way Maitimë trembles as the pleasure builds and builds until finally Maitimë’s cunt spasms, and with a cry she goes boneless beneath Irissë’s hands.

Irissë keeps going, lapping at Maitimë’s release. She wonders how fast she can bring Maitimë to the edge again, but her cousin has other ideas. She easily pulls Irissë up. She could lift me up with one hand, Irissë thinks and shivers.

Maitimë draws her into a deep, almost violent kiss. She licks into Irissë’s mouth and moans, tasting herself on her tongue.

Irissë is burning with need. She writhes on top of Maitimë, trying to rub her slick cunt against Matimë’s still quivering thighs.

“Let’s see how wet you are for me,” Maitimë says, her voice hoarser than it was before.

Her elegant fingers run down Irissë’s spine, ghost over her buttocks and stop near her slit. Not too gently, Maitimë probes Irissë’s cunt, a pleased smile appearing on her face.

“Sopping wet,” she says as Irissë whimpers. “Oh, you poor thing! How selfish of me to keep you in need for so long.”

She sits, pulling Irissë up with her. Her finger stays in Irissë’s cunt as she gathers Irissë in her lap. With her free hand, she gently pushes sweat-soaked strands of hair away from Irissë’s face.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, her finger unmoving inside Irissë.

Silently, Irissë curses Maitimë and herself for not thinking this through. Had she demanded her pleasure first before pleasuring Maitimë, her cousin wouldn’t have the patience to tease her. But Maitimë likes playing these games after she gets what she wants.

“Touch me,” Irissë begs.

Maitimë caresses her face with the back of her hand.

“What else?” she asks.

“Fuck, Maitimë, you know what to do! This isn’t the first time, is it? Fuck me! Move your fingers! Do something!”

Maitimë’s laughter is like pearls falling on tiles. She curls a finger inside Irissë and rubs her engorged clit with a thumb. Irissë cries out, then whines when the movement stops.

“More?” Maitimë asks merrily.

“Yes!” Irissë gasps.

“You know you have to ask for it, sweet cousin.”

“Fuck you!” Irissë cries, then immediately adds, “Another finger, please, Maitimë, I need it.”

She falls, panting, against Maitimë’s chest as her cousin indulges her. Two fingers curl then stretch inside Irissë for a few blissful, euphoric moments. Then Maitimë stills, raises Irissë’s chin up and smiles at her.

“Go on then,” she says.

Shaken by the sudden deprivation, Irissë doesn’t comprehend at first what is requested of her. When she does, she grasps Maitimë’s shoulders and begins to move.

Maitimë looks at her in unbridled awe as Irissë, tits bouncing, fucks herself on her long, beautiful fingers.

Maitimë’s other hand roams over Irissë’s body, strokes her back, cups her breasts, caresses her neck. Two fingers tap at her lips, and Irissë opens her mouth, takes them in and sucks ravenously. Maitimë rewards her with a third finger in her cunt, all three moving in rhythm with Irissë.

With both her mouth and her cunt filled, Irissë completely surrenders to the sensations. The desperate, needy sounds she makes in her throat are more fit for an animal in heat than a princess. But she doesn’t care.

She rarely gives up control during sex. With her fellow hunters, sex is a competition. With others, even other women, there is always a layer of distance. But there is something about Maitimë that brings out this side of Irissë. Something safe, something secure. The assurance that she will get all her needs met with relentless efficacy and profound care.

Maitimë’s fingers leave her mouth and trail down her neck. In vain, Irissë, breathless and gaping, chases after them. But she doesn’t have to complain because Maitimë cups her breasts, rubs her dark nipples between two wet fingers and then pinches them.

Irissë cries out as sharp pleasure courses through her. Her fingers are leaving bruises on Maitimë’s shoulders. She doesn’t seem to notice it, too busy with taking Irissë apart with only her skilled fingers. Irissë’s mouth feels empty. She almost wishes Maitimë had brought one of her toys, so she could have two hands free to ruin Irissë. But then Irissë wouldn’t have Maitimë’s near-burning fingers inside her, playing her like a well-used instrument, pressing, rubbing and caressing with passion not worn down with experience.

As though reading her mind, Maitimë claims Irissë’s mouth with her own, giving Irissë her tongue to suck on. She does, pressing closer to Maitimë’s chest, sinking faster onto Maitimë’s fingers, her ah-ah-ah drowning in Maitimë’s mouth.

She suddenly realizes that Maitimë is also moaning, and the movement of her fingers in Irissë’s cunt has become shaky, uncontrollable. It is the knowledge that she can affect Maitimë so that makes Irissë fall apart. Tightening around Maitimë’s fingers, her release came abruptly and took her under.

They lay side by side for a few moments, catching their breaths. Irissë tilts her head to look at Maitimë in all her naked glory. Once again, Irissë has a vision of Maitimë on a steed - magnificent and regal like a Maia of Oromë.

“Why don’t you come to hunt with us more often?” she asks.

Maitimë doesn’t seem surprised by the seemingly random question. She only smiles and turns to look at Irissë.

“Why don’t you stay in the city longer?” she asks.

Irissë shrugs. “I could never be like you,” she says.

“You mean boring?”

“Your word,” Irissë laughs. “No, I mean I could never stay in one place for so long. I would lose my mind if I had to look at walls all the time, see the same people every day, speak about the same things. I much prefer the open fields, the emerald green forests and the chase of the game. I think you would like it if you came hunting with us.”

“I do all my hunting here,” Maitimë says.

Irissë snorts. “How many maidens like me have you deflowered?” she asks.

“You were hardly a maiden,” Maitimë says, amused. “In any case, a lady does not kiss and tell.”

“That many?” Irissë grins.

“The number you should be interested in instead,” Maitimë says, her index finger circling Irissë’s hardening nipple, “is the highest number of orgasms I have bestowed upon a lady during a single encounter.”

“Would you tell me if I asked?” Irissë says, breath hitching as Maitimë’s feathery touch creeps farther down.

“No,” Maitimë says, her finger sliding easily into Irissë’s still-wet cunt, “but I can tell you that I shall surpass that number today.”

#submission #fic #day 7: sea #writer challenges #aredhel x maedhros #aredhel #maedhros #f!maedhros #anon

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