Brownie Batter and Imladris Twins, by CinnamonGrrl
Buffy had known the sons of Elrond even since she’d become a Ranger. Not in the biblical sense, of course, but in the sense of having been acquainted with them. She’d never had a change to work on a mission with them; they tended to work on their own, a formidable, seamless two-elf whirlwind of slaughter.
She knew their passion for decimation of orcs stemmed from that incident last century with their mother, and though sometimes she was rendered breathless by tales of their ferocity in battle, she couldn’t ever say she blamed them: if it had been her mother, or Dawn, she’d have been ferocious too.
They were overwhelmingly gorgeous, she decided. Just one of them would have been an assault on one’s hormones, with their tall, lean bodies and raven-black hair in marked contrast to glittering silver eyes. But two of them… it was a pheromone overload whenever she was in their vicinity, and she was hard-pressed to keep from drooling down her chin when her imagination got fired up.
It wasn’t that she was dissatisfied with her sexual relationship with Haldir; good God, no. But he was far away in Lórien, and she only got there once a year, if that. Elladan and Elrohir tended to patrol the lost realm of Arnor, which was right next door (so to speak) to Buffy’s own stomping grounds of Forlinden, and she had often seen them in the Grey Havens.
Seen them, but never quite gotten up the courage to invite them to share a meal with her, or come on a mission with her. And she wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was that they reminded her so strongly of Angel, with their darkness and tendency to silence. Perhaps it was because they were two, and she just one.
And perhaps it was simply because she was really attracted to them at the same time she was kind of skeeved out at the idea of boinking two guys at the same time.
Sure, she’d thought of approaching just one or the other, but it was a fairly unthinkable concept—to separate the two of them for a romantic encounter seemed as impossible as separating them for any other endeavour. And oh, the images that created in Buffy’s fevered mind…
The fantasies always revolved around her environment. In the summer, she was in a sun-dappled glade in the woods of Forlond when they rode into the clearing… in the winter, she was tucked into a cozy cave, warming herself by the fire when they entered, bending low to fit through the opening of the cave and brushing snow off their midnight-dark hair.
Wherever it took place, after that, the scene was identical. She was idly licking brownie batter from a spoon when they approached her from either side and each slipped an arm around her, one leaning down to kiss her as the other began to remove her clothing. Warm hands removed the bowl of batter and spoon from her hands before caressing each newly-revealed inch of skin, and she moaned into a talented, slick mouth.
Once nude, she pressed herself more fully against the twin kissing her—Elladan, she decided—and wound her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his long hair, stroking his neck. Elrohir commenced stripping himself and when he was nude, she turned to him and gave him the same treatment. Skin to skin, feeling the hard muscles of his chest flatten her breasts and his arousal dig into the softness of her belly.
Elladan removed his clothing as his brother and Buffy sank onto the huge, soft bed that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere (it was a fantasy after all), and then all three lay on their sides with her between them. Elrohir continued to nibble at her lips and Elladan slid his hand around her side to cup her breasts, squeezing them and pinching and pulling at her nipples until they stood stiffly out in attention.
Buffy twisted a little, wrapping her arm around Elladan’s shoulders and pulling him closer until he draped himself over her and suckled her nipples, laving them with his tongue at the same time Elrohir caressed Buffy’s hip and thigh with his calloused hand before slipping it between her legs.
Elladan grasped behind her knee and drew her leg up just enough to permit his brother to stroke between, teasing the soft brown curls before unerringly finding the hidden pearl within. Buffy gasped into Elrohir’s mouth and reached blindly for his erection, stroking it from base to tip, feeling the wetness of its weeping tip on her palm even as she pressed her ass back against Elladan’s hardness.
“Ai, you are wet, Dagnir,” Elrohir murmured as he brought his fingers to his lips and stroked himself into the ring of her fingers.
Elladan grasped his brother’s wrist and licked her moisture from his hand with a groan. “And you taste like honey.” He drew back and pushed her to her back before leaning over and burying his tongue between her nether lips. This had the added benefit, to Buffy’s way of thinking, of bringing his slim hips within range of her own questing hands and mouth. Reaching for the bowl of brownie batter, she dipped her finger in it and coated Elladan’s cock with a film of rich chocolate before eagerly sucking him down her throat.
Elrohir pressed against her back now, lavishing her shoulders and back with open-mouthed kisses as he scooted down and took himself in hand, rubbing the head of his erection against her soaked opening. Buffy whimpered and pushed back against him, eager to be penetrated by the twin to the marble-hard column of flesh she was currently exploring with her tongue, tracing every vein like she was memorizing it.
He flattened his palm against her belly, holding her immobile as he slowly, inexorably pushed into her, filling her completely. Buffy scarcely dared to breath, not wanting anything to interrupt or distract from the feeling of him stretching her.
“Dagnir… so wide open,” Elladan murmured, redoubling his efforts between her thighs even as he began to lose control of himself, plunging more purposefully into her warm, wet mouth. She clasped his tight buttocks in her hands, squeezing their roundness in time to the movement of the tight ring of her lips around him as she stroked the underside of his cock with her stiffened tongue.
“You take me so deep,” Elrohir moaned into her hair, taking handfuls of the silky stuff and pulling it over him like a blanket, feeling the cool strands caress his heated flesh as he writhed against her. “I can feel all the dark of you.”
The pleasure threatened to consume her, to obliterate her entire being. There was nothing but this raw, red sensation of utter delight and desire, spiraling like a coiling spring, and Buffy felt her hips begin to jerk erratically, as if they couldn’t decide whether to arch back at Elrohir’s cock or toward Elladan’s mouth.
Buffy reached down with one hand to tangle in Elladan’s hair and hold him closer to her throbbing core, stretching back with the other to grasp at Elrohir’s waist and urge him to thrust harder, faster. Her moans vibrated around Elladan’s sensitive member and he began gasping against her tender flesh, his hot breath alternating with minute swipes of his tongue against her clitoris.
It was then she began babbling, nonsense sounds combined with attempts at saying their names. Throwing back her head, Elrohir captured her mouth with his and kissed her hard, his tongue in her mouth mimicking the motion of himself within her.
Feeling orgasm approach like an ill omen, inescapable, she latched onto Elladan’s cock once more and darted her tongue into the tiny, wet slit at the end, her hands busily kneading his testicles. With a shout, he pumped his hips once, twice, and came heavily into her mouth. He pulsed hotly between her lips, and she nursed on him relentlessly, drawing every drop of his seed from him until he twisted away, his oversensitive glans unable to bear more stimulation.
Once Elladan regained his breath, he returned his ministrations to Buffy’s soaking center, trailing his tongue over her clit to where Elrohir mercilessly pumped himself into her. The feeling of his wet, rough tongue against the well-used flesh of her opening while his brother drove himself again and again snapped the fragile thread of Buffy’s control and with a silent scream, her body drew tight as a bowstring, freezing in a rictus of pleasure so sharp it was agony.
Elladan captured her clit between his lips and flicked it with his tongue as Elrohir began to spasm and contract within her, and Buffy felt herself climb into a second climax before she’d fully come down from the first. Drawing a shuddering breath, Elrohir’s hips pummeled her and she screamed as the first pulsing jets of his essence were loosed inside her body.
Her muscles clenched around him so tightly a sound much like a whimper was forced from him. “Yes, yes,” he groaned over and over, holding onto her trembling body as if it were the only thing keeping him from flying away. For endless moments, the three of them lay stuck together by their sweat, unable to move except for the instinctual twitches of their pelvises in the aftershocks.
“Is there any more of that confection, Dagnir?” Elrohir asked finally, lifting his weary head to meet her gaze. “For I can think of only one thing that would taste better than your pretty quim, and that is your pretty quim covered in chocolate.”
Buffy stretched languorously. “It’s my fantasy,” she replied with a lazy grin. “There’s as much chocolate as we want.” And with a snap of her fingers, the sheets were all clean and dry, and a newly brimming bowl of brownie batter had appeared beside them.
“Dagnir?” a gruff voice queried, interrupting her thoughts. Reluctantly dragging herself from dream-world back to the present, she blinked to find not only Gimli, who’d been the one to speak to her, but a goodly number of their companions watching her curiously. “What were you thinking about so intently? You had the most peculiar smile on your face.”
“Just thinking of new ways to kill orcs,” she replied, her voice rather more high than usual, and her eyes darted nervously to see if anyone had noticed.
Legolas was still ignoring her, damn him, but Aragorn was trying desperately to hide a smirk behind his gauntleted hand and Haldir was smirking. And the twins… she dared to glimpse at them, and found to her utter shame that they were both watching her intently.
They couldn’t know what she’d been thinking… could they? Buffy felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment, and ducked her head to stare down at the reins knotted in her fingers. One by one the others returned to their previous activities until it was only her, flanked on either side by Elrohir and Elladan.
“Legolas is a fool,” Elladan said softly from her left.
“If ever you tire of him, you have only to find us, Dagnir,” Elrohir added from her right. “For we are not unaffected by you, either.”
Buffy’s head flew up and whipped from one to the other in amazement. “How did you know?” she whispered, positive her face was going to catch on fire, she was blushing so hard.
“Our grandmother’s ability to know the unknowable has been passed to us as well, thank the generous Valar,” Elladan continued. “We have been aware your thoughts were on us for a while now.”
“And we can smell your arousal,” Elrohir told her. ”It does not take Galadriel’s power to know what you were imagining.”
Buffy was speechless. Completely, totally speechless. What does one say in such a situation, after all? She couldn’t think of anything, and so remained silent.
Elladan smiled kindly at her. “Remember what we have said, Dagnir,” he said. “For we would be honoured to love you.”
Blinking away tears, she nodded to them and spurred her horse to catch up with the others.
Her life was so weird.