M-Broken hearts and drunken minds

Frodo Silvertongue · 03-24-2012, 07:42 PM

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word count; 760

Both bottles were discarded in the mayhem, thrown carelessly to the ground. Droplets of alcohol glittered on the blades of grass, beautiful, but almost evil in the sense of the chaos they had caused, the chaos unravelling in the wilderness.

While Frodo was new at this, Hotaru was not, so he was ready to let her do what she wished, even if it meant him feeling bad for his lack in experience. But it was, of course, in a wolf’s - and indeed in any creature’s - instinct, and natural ability, to do what they were both attempting now. And so Frodo was not completely innocent in the matter; in fact, he almost acted as if he had done something like this before. One of the advantages of alcohol was confidence, and confident he was. He’d always been a unique kind of guy, for he cared not what people thought of him. But this was a different view on things all together, a side of the man he’d never realised had been inside him. Usually he was so awkward about things like this.

She had relaxed into his embrace, melted to his touch, and responded with gestures of her own. Willingly, he drooped his tail into an equally relaxed state. Every scent, every sound, every touch had him burning inside, like someone had lit a fire in the pit of his stomach. His senses were somewhat dulled, due to his drunken state, and he may have, perhaps, held her not as strongly or as safely as he would have if they were sober, but he was aroused all the same, and tried to please the stranger as best he could. For that was what she was, a complete stranger. And Light’s girl, at that. Or at least, had been. Frodo hadn’t talked to Light in a while, but they were friends of sorts…Frodo dearly hoped his pack mate, his proclaimed brother, wouldn’t hold this one drunken night against him.

She nipped his ear, and he could tell that she was ultimately getting as frisky as he was. He tightened his hold on where his hands had so bravely ventured and she whined in response, yet apparently she was willing to go just that step further. Frodo’s eyes grew wide, perhaps even reverting back to their usual intensely green shade since they had grown gloomy from drink, as he realised what was coming. He saw her hand move, second guessed what was going to happen, but yet still wasn’t ready when she touched him no-one had dared touch him before.

His thighs grew ridged, all ten fingers on his paws curling into fists. A sharp, external shot of breath escaped him, the gasp breaking the silence. He had known it would come to this, but when it finally came down to it, he had been unprepared. But it was worth it. The suspense led him to move his own hands, bravely, like hers had, though it was hard to concentrate on something else other than what was going on to his own body. Yet he managed to cup her breasts and lean his head into her neck, inhaling her musk before retracting to examine her body once more. He’d never really paid much attention to appearance, but boy, he’d gotten lucky.

His hands searched along her chest gracefully, stroking beneath her breasts, and around them, before one of his hands finally reached up to tighten on a nipple. When she nipped his ear he growled playfully, and once more at the lick of the muzzle. And then he grew almost too eager, holding her waist with one hand while moving down with the other. What she had given him the pleasure of, he could only return the favour, sliding his hand lower, to stroke her sensitive place. His calloused hands were quite cold, due to the fact they were exposed in the quickening dark. However, Frodo was pretty sure they would warm up soon, he thought with a humorous smirk. But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up this playing, teasing, suspense. Already there was a eager hardness pressing into her hands, which was perhaps quite uncomfortable… until, of course, he took that final step until that formed them as one. And so, as if to mention to her just how frustrated he was getting, he let a soft whine roll out of his tongue, a question in it’s tone that could only mean one thing. She wouldn't back down now, surely.

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