Sex, Lies and Pastry
Author: Shadowstar
Title: Sex, Lies and Pastry.
Contact: indywild18@yahoo.co.uk
Summery: PWP, Light-hearted, Smut, Slash. Aragorn introduces Boromir
to the erotic appreciation of a well-baked muffin. It starts a chain of
mouth-watering kinky exploration. Baked treats will never be the same
again! (Aragorn/Boromir).
Archive: Nothing would make me harder, err, I mean happier. Drop me a
message, then you can suck it, strip it and spank it like you love it.
Beta: GlamorC
Feedback: is my only friend.
Disclaimer: I be a simple English stud(ent), so credit to Tolkien for
creating and owning this world. the following written work is in no way
representative of Lord of the Rings nor linked with the New Line, its just
fantasy.
Rating: NC-17
Author’s Note: Were there ever such baked delights in Middle-Earth? Of
course there was- you just have to know where to look! I got this bunny in
the Library Of Moria Messageboard- I encourage everyone to check it out.
now.

Sex, Lies and Pastry.

Chapter 1: Boromir’s Big Bite.

The captain stood inside the king’s private chambers. He was a little
nervous, as he had never been here before and wondered why Aragorn had
insisted on bringing him. It certainly was a luxurious place, with many
smaller rooms branching off into the distance.
"What did you want to show me?" he called. It was getting late and he was
feeling tired.
Aragorn looked out of a doorway, where a lot of heat seemed to be
emanating.
"I told you - I wanted you to try something, come in here."
Boromir followed, privately thinking the only thing he wanted to try was
Aragorn’s tongue, but those thoughts were momentarily put off as he
entered the side room.
"Aragorn, you have a kitchen!" He looked around and saw smaller
versions of cooking ovens and equipment from the palace main kitchens
all crammed into the little room. It was unheard of, but then again Aragorn
was the king, and so had a right to be as demanding as he pleased.
"Newly installed - I find cooking relaxing." Aragorn beamed. Boromir
couldn’t help but smirk. This was the man who had fought countless
enemies, was waited on as a mighty ruler, yet deep in his heart still
insisted doing most things for himself - even preparing his own meals.
"It's definitely unusual, but is it necessary?"
Aragorn turned around to bring out a tray from the oven, giving Boromir a
ridiculously good view of his buttocks.
"Of course it is, none of the staff can make muffins - no matter how many
times I showed it to them, so I resolved to make them myself." He turned
back around to show a puzzled Boromir what looked like fist-sized rock
with berries in them.
"What the hell is that? It looks like something you would club someone to
death with."
Aragorn only rolled his eyes. "It’s a MUFFIN; a type of food whose recipe
I discovered from the elves. I'm thinking about introducing it to Gondor.
It's freshly baked and I want you to be the first one to try it." He gave
Boromir pleading, puppy eyes that could not be resisted, but the captain
still looked
hesitant to try it.
"Look, it's not poisoned, you know. I'll cut it in half and we can both have
some - I'm quite interested in what it tastes like myself."
Now Boromir rolled his eyes, "You haven’t even tried it yourself? Now
there’s no way I'm having it." He folded his arms and made his way out of
the little kitchen-room and past the bed when Aragorn stopped him.
"Please Boromir? You know I'm not a bad cook and I really wanted you to
taste what it was like. I value your honest opinion. Besides I would be
*very* grateful," he finished, leaning in slightly towards the captain, his
voice going strangely gravely.
Boromir did his best to hide his erection. He knew Aragorn would try this!
He was sure that the king knew how much he had been lusting after him,
but Aragorn never spoke of it. There were times like this - infuriating
times like this - where it seemed that Aragorn was making a pass at him,
being seductive and suggestive in a way that made Boromir weak at the
knees. Especially when the captain was being stubborn. Once again, as he
stared into those wonderful, blue eyes, he could do nothing but comply.
"Fine," he said wearily. "I'll try a piece now while you get a knife to 
split
it."
Aragorn looked delighted, and tore off a small portion of the muffin.
Before Boromir could resist, he pushed the chunk straight into the captains
agape mouth. Boromir was taken by surprised and reflexively closed his
mouth - but it was too late and ended up wrapping his lips around
Aragorn’s fingers going in and out.
Without any sign of embarrassment Aragorn turned around and promptly
walked back into the kitchen for the knife, leaving the muffin on the table.
For a moment Boromir was at a loss for words, but before he spoke the
flavour of the food melted on his tongue.
It was like nothing he had imagined. The warm, soft, crumbly texture
seemed to send an unexpected delight throughout his whole mouth. For a
while all he could do was let it lie there as he absorbed all the sweet, 
rich
flavour.
Delicious didn’t even come close to describing it.
Before he realised it, he had already chewed and swallowed the piece and
was now looking at the table next to the window. The table with the
remaining muffin.
He didn’t think about it twice.
Wolfing it down, he paused only in between giant mouthfuls to close his
eyes and sigh appreciatively at the wonderful, somehow exotic flavour.
After what seemed like mere seconds, it was all over, and Boromir looked
around disbelievingly that there was already none left. Perhaps there were
a few crumbs still on the table?…
"Boromir!" came a sharp voice.
Boromir quickly turned around to see Aragorn looking at him. The captain
slowly straightened himself with all his dignity and turned to face his 
king.
"Yes?"
"Why were you bending over the table Boromir? I could have sworn I saw
you licking the edge!"
"With respect," said Boromir, without respect, "I was just checking the
varnish. You must be mistaken."
"I see," said Aragorn, now looking very carefully as he walked slowly
towards him. Aragorn looked from Boromir to the table, which Boromir
was blocking.
Boromir wished Aragorn would stop squinting at his mouth like that.
Suddenly Aragorn asked "What did you think of the muffin?"
"Uh, not too bad," Boromir tried to say nonchalantly. "Bring some more
out and I'll give you a better opinion."
"I only made the one," said Aragorn, again in that same, slow, careful
tone. He took another step closer. "And you seem to have an *awful* lot
of crumbs around your mouth for one bite. Please step aside."
Boromir didn’t move, but desperately tried to distract him, "Crumbs? Oh,
they must be from the large lunch I just - hey!" But he was too slow to
stop Aragorn as the other man darted around him to glimpse at the table.
Aragorn now turned to look back at him, his voice low with an edge.
"You greedy pig. You ate the whole thing. You didn’t even wait for me."
Boromir started to feel a little too uncomfortable under the other man’s
glare and stuck his chest out defiantly, "What! No, of course not! It, err,
was a bird! It just flew in through the window, grabbed the food and flew
out again. I couldn’t stop it - it was too quick!"
Now Aragorn cocked his head to the side, a slow smile creeping on his
lips. "You dirty, rotten liar. I had no idea my dear captain would lie about
something I slaved over all day to make."
He took a step forward and was now *very close* - only a couple of
inches away in fact - to Boromir, whose breathing had quickened and hair
was standing on the end. Boromir couldn’t tear himself way from
Aragorn’s penetrating stare, the long hair, his soft, full lips...
"You need to be taught a lesson to stop being so greedy," Aragorn
whispered, bringing Boromir’s train of thought slamming back to reality.
It took him a while to process what was said. He could not help but widen
his eyes as Aragorn continued.
"You need to be taught a lesson to share things, dear Boromir. Do you
understand?" He moved away, turning around and slowly walking to the
bed. Boromir hung his head, instantly missing the close warmth from the
other man.
"Yes," he mumbled.
Aragorn continued walking next to the bed, and spoke this time as if he
was talking to himself, a bemused smirk crossing his face. "Yes indeed.
You will learn to share all you have and give willingly - as it is so
obviously not in your nature. This will be remedied starting now. Take off
your clothes."
Boromir’s mind completely ignored the words his ears could not possibly
have heard, leaving him with a vacant expression. This caused Aragorn to
sigh and started to undo his outer clothing.
The other man stared with bulging eyes as he slipped out of his shirt,
exposing his smooth, muscled chest, and started working on his leggings.
"Aragorn, what... what are you... oh my..." Boromir tried to ask stupidly
what Aragorn was playing at, but stopped midway as the breeches fell -
the king’s round, pale rear shone nakedly as he turned around, letting
Boromir stare openly at his well-hung stiffening manhood.
He walked over to the statue-like captain, totally unabashed, and started to
undo *his* outer clothes for him.
"No more games, Boromir. We’ve been playing around for too long. I
know you want me - now is your chance." Aragorn's voice was serious,
business-like.
Boromir couldn’t move as he felt is own shirt falling away. If his mind
wasn’t co-operating, at least his libido was as Aragorn tugged the pants
over Boromir’s aching erection and down to his ankles.
"Aragorn... I, I don’t know what to say. I've wanted this for so long - are
you sure you want this? I never believed -" Boromir stuttered as he finally
became aware of what was going to happen, but Aragorn cut in simply,
"Of course I want this. It's really going to happen, my friend, right here
and now - everything you’ve desired. And you are going to give it to me."
He turned to walk with a smile to the bed, pulling a small flask out from
under the pillow and sliding onto his back to face a naked, grinning
Boromir.
He leered at Aragorn, who looked back. But soon their smiles had
vanished, replaced with hungry lust.
"Are you sure about this?" Boromir decided to ask him one last time, just
to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He was so afraid of hurting Aragorn,
but these thoughts were quickly being pushed out of mind by other urges
that screamed at Boromir to jump on the bed and claim Aragorn like a
wild animal.
"Boromir?" said Aragorn, his voice shallow and breathing fast.
"Yes?"
"You see me naked on the bed, don’t you?"
"Yes."
"You see my legs wide open and the oil flask in my hand?"
"Yes."
"You see my tight, round, puckered ass don’t you?"
"Gods, yes," whispered Boromir.
"Then get over here and fuck my brains out."
Those raw words pushed Boromir over the edge, and he jumped onto the
bed, wasting no time in straddling Aragorn to the other man’s delight. He
grabbed the oil flask and squirted a generous amount onto his hand, then
bent forward and gave Aragorn long deep kisses, gently playing around
with his tongue, as he slowly brought his oil-dripping hand down to his
crevice and massaged him gently.
Aragorn’s eyes widened at this, but was too distracted at Boromir’s tongue
sweeping inside his mouth. After a while, Boromir slipped the first finger
into the hole, and found Aragorn smiling as he worked his digit between
the man’s buttocks, circling and prodding deeper and deeper. After a
while, he took his mouth away from Aragorn and decided to insert the
second finger, putting all his concentration into the task at hand. Aragorn
gave a small groan and reflexively closed the ring of muscle around
Boromir’s fingers, who still persisted.
"You must relax and loosen you muscles, Aragorn, you will get used to
it," said Boromir, to which the man complied. After widening the hole
more, he slipped the third finger in, making Aragorn moan in surprise.
Boromir repeated his words, and after probing further, Aragorn started to
enjoy the sensation and could not help but involuntarily thrust his hips
deeper and deeper onto Boromir’s hands, who smiled and was glad to see
him enjoying it. But before Aragorn could keep humping his hand,
Boromir pulled it out, to the king’s dismay. Boromir grabbed the flask
again and poured copious amounts onto his rock hard member, massaging
it right to the base. Aragorn looked desiringly at what was about to
happen, and moaned as he felt the wide head pushing into his entrance.
Boromir had his eyes closed and his head thrown back, overwhelmed at
the feeling he was having inside his lover. "You are so tight - so warm and
tight, I could just stay like this forever."
As the cock slowly pushed deeper, Aragorn could not help but gasp, and
tightened his muscles once more.
"Ugghh, oh -"
"Please," whispered Boromir, "try to relax, remember to breathe and
concentrate on keeping open." Aragorn began to sweat as he focused on
adjusting, and inch by inch found that he could accommodate Boromir’s
gigantic length. He looked up into a smiling Boromir, who gently began to
draw back, preparing to thrust again. He then pushed back into the man,
faster, opening him more. Aragorn’s eyes were wide open and intense,
pleasurable feelings swept from his lower regions to his upper body as
Boromir starting to pick up the pace and push faster and harder. He gave
long, high moans as Boromir hit his tender sweet spot, making him cry out
in pleasure.
"Gods, Boromir... oh yes, don’t stop... fill me up... fill my ass..."
This spurred Boromir on faster, who started to ferociously pump Aragorn,
his balls slapping the man’s cheeks every time his buried his full length.
Aragorn was totally in captain’s grip and loved it, and he could not stifle
the grunts escaping him every time Boromir pounded his insides as his
legs were held firmly apart.
Then, overwhelmed with pleasure, Aragorn spurted his juice all over his
own stomach, without even having touched his cock. As Boromir saw this
he gave out a final cry before he emptied himself completely as well,
filling Aragorn with a warm, liquid sensation he could never have
imagined, and felt it drip out of his hole and down his cheeks as Boromir
slowly withdrew his softening dick. He bent down and proceeded to lick
Aragorn’s essence off his stomach, then worked his way past the navel,
down the bush whereupon in he gently took the man’s dick in his mouth.
This brought renewed pleasure from the king, who could not subdue his
ragged cries as Boromir sucked and cleaned Aragorn's entire length with
his tongue.

Finally, he fell on top of Aragorn with exhaustion, both of them panting.
"Was that tasty?" Aragorn asked, still breathing hoarse breaths.
"Delicious... I could keep it in my mouth forever."
"I meant the muffin."
"So did I. The best part was when I swallowed your... muffin."
"Well, it was ready and practically bursting."
Boromir could not help but grin. "Mmmmm, I'll have to have it more often
then. It's tastier than I thought. I also noticed you liked it when I kept 
it in
my mouth and played with it with my tongue. Did you always like
muffins?" he asked teasingly.
Now it was Aragorn’s time to smile. "Ever since I could remember. The
best part for me is always the first, big, juicy bite - but before that I 
keep
licking the whole area so its nice and wet before wrapping my tongue
around it."
"It's very addictive, I already want more. When can I have another
munch?"
"Whenever you want. I never run out of ingredients and my oven is
always baking."
Boromir gently tweaked Aragorn‘s nipple. He could get used to this
sharing business, he thought. "Can I try sticking my own ingredients in
your oven next time?"
"Of course, although it’ll be a tight fit - I know how you’d like to stuff 
it
till the ingredients are leaking out."
"I'm sure with a lot of practise I'll ram it all in - I daresay your oven 
hasn’t
been fully stuffed for a long time."
"And I daresay you’re right. It’ll be nice to have some giant muffins
cramming it regularly."
They both fell back in laughter, the echoes ringing throughout the
enormous bedroom.

Chapter 2: Quick Lick.

After that night Boromir could not believe how quickly the weeks passed.
Everything held a different meaning for him. Each night would be more
lust filled than the last and, he noticed, more kinkier than the last.
Sometimes Aragorn would sneak into his quarters, but it was more
convenient for Boromir to visit Aragorn’s enormous room.
They had worked out a suitable routine that allowed them to conduct their
relationship in secrecy, and allowed them to spend time with each other
almost every other night.
In the following morning after one such night, Aragorn sat reading
hunched over his desk in the bedroom when a figure burst in through the
main door.
It was Boromir, who looked furious and seemed to be walking at an
awkward angle.
"Bastard!" He growled. "What did you do to me?"
Aragorn didn’t look up, put pulled a parchment of paper up to hide his
barely-suppressed smile. "Whatever are you talking about? I merely sent
the signal to indicate that it was snack-time."
Ah, 'snack-time'. That was their new code word. It gave Boromir a
thrilling sense of joy to say it in front of other members of the council
when talking to Aragorn - knowing that to them it meant something else
entirely.
Sometimes when the two men couldn’t wait until nightfall to be with each
other, they would send a signal during the day to summon the other one
straight away to satiate their urges. Often it would be a muffin on a tray
brought by a servant - that had been Boromir’s idea. He was happy to see
how much it pleased Aragorn to send the staff around on what they
thought were simple, meaningless orders. If only they knew.
When Boromir received the signal, he would drop what he was doing and
go straight to his lover, always eating the muffin on the way there - he
knew how much it turned Aragorn on to kiss his captain and taste the
sweet, fresh-eaten muffin on his lips and tongue.

But this time it was slightly different. "Now who’s the liar?" snarled
Boromir once again. "Soon after I ate the 'signal', my blood felt like it 
was
on fire!" He stopped and stood up straight, showing a huge bulging
erection straining itself against the cloth. He looked accusingly at 
Aragorn,
"I barely made it here without fucking every goddamn person on the
way!"
The king regained his composure under a silent fit of giggles before
gliding over sleekly to the sweating captain.
"Oh dear, I think I must have added a high-strength aphrodisiac instead.
Damn, I always did get that mixed up with the flour. *Ever* so sorry," he
said unconvincingly.
He was suddenly pushed forcefully back on the bed, only to look up into
his glaring, throbbing captain.
"You sneaky asshole," Boromir rasped, and began to undo the buckle on
his belt. "Get it," he said.
Aragorn grinned. He knew exactly what to get, and walked over to the
kitchen, undressing himself as he went. Naked, he soon came out with a
large tray of muffins and set these next to him as he went back to lying on
the bed.
Boromir was now standing naked at the foot of the bed, already lubing his
rod in slow strokes with an oily fist. He nodded to the tray of muffins next
to Aragorn on the bed.
"Start with the big one," he said.
Aragorn selected the biggest muffin and held it above himself. He began
breaking off little pieces, letting the giant crumbs fall into his face and 
into
his hair. He continued to tear off bits, while moving his arms further down
his body until he was covered in almost head to toe with muffin-chunks.
Boromir bent over the figure and greedily started eating, sucking and
biting the pieces off Aragorn's body. His hot, wet mouth roamed all over
and left a dripping trail of saliva, causing the king to squeal with
satisfaction.
They continued until there was one muffin left.
A breathless Aragorn looked at it, all alone on its tray before turning to
Boromir.
"One left," he said. "Can I do what I did with it last night? Mash it into
little pieces and stuff it up your -"
But Boromir cut in before he could finish, "Actually, I want you to do
what you did the night before and rub it all over my -"
"Ah, of course," replied Aragorn, suddenly remembering exactly what he
did the previous night.

And like the previous nights, after they had (eventually) finished, Aragorn
would cradle the huge form of Boromir in his arms. He loved the musky
aroma and the air of contentment that seemed to radiate from the other
man in his deep sleep, and just before the king would fall into well-
deserved rest himself, he wondered how he had ever managed to sleep
without the captain’s scent in the first place.

Chapter 3: A Naughty Nibble.

Some time later, when all was still peaceful in Gondor, Boromir was
taking a bath in the afternoon when he suddenly heard a knock on the
door. Quickly dressing himself, he was unsurprised to see that the servant
was carrying a small tray.
Boromir smiled as he saw the muffin underneath, and bade the servant to
leave. He bowed and left, thinking it odd that the captain of Gondor would
eat so much of the food - after all, he had sent him several the day before!

Alone, Boromir was just about to pick up the muffin and eat it on the way
to his lover’s bedroom when an evil thought struck him.
He carefully put the muffin back onto the plate and undressed once more
as he calmly slipped back into the warm bath.

A few hours later he was sitting in the council chamber among the other
high-ranking members discussing various matters with the king. It was the
first time he had seen him that day, as after he had finished bathing he
took his time to get ready for the meeting, knowing he would see Aragorn
here.
Currently, Aragorn was sitting exactly opposite him at the long table, and
seemed irritated. He kept arguing with the councilors sitting around him,
and seemed to go to almost painful lengths not to make eye contact with
Boromir.
The captain smiled and soon decided that the time was right. He slowly
reached under the table while the rest of the men were busy chatting and
squabbling and brought out a very recognisable baked treat.
At the other end of the table Aragorn froze, his mouth hanging open as he
saw the muffin being held. The very same muffin he had sent to Boromir,
requesting his presence for a badly-needed ‘snacks’ session which
Boromir did not turn up for.
His eyes narrowed into black slits as he saw the captain gleefully lick the
crust with his wet, slithering tongue.
Boromir knew he was being watched. Ignored by everyone except the
king, he ever so gently took a huge bite out of the muffin and fluttered his
eyes in exaggerated pleasure.
Aragorn hissed a sharp intake of breath. He continued to watch as Boromir
teasingly licked the crumbs off his lips. Slowly his grip tightened onto the
table until his knuckles whitened in protest. He didn’t think Boromir could
be so cruel!

Boromir smiled to himself. He didn’t have to look under the table to know
that Aragorn would be straining with a bursting erection. Finally, after
what seemed like forever, he had finished the muffin. He slowly examined
his dirty fingers with surprise as if he had never before seen them in his
life, and moved the first digit slowly towards his face.
He stuck out his tongue, as if inviting the achingly slow journey of the
finger to lick itself inside the mouth.
The finger slid gently past the lips, and Boromir squeezed his eyes shut in
a look of blissful joy.
"ENOUGH!" Aragorn shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. He
was breathing hard as if he had just run to Mordor and back.
The rest of the councilors stopped their arguing and all stared in silence.
Prince Imrahil leaned towards the king.
"Enough of what, your Majesty?"
Aragorn looked around, tearing his gaze from a smiling Boromir. He
seemed to snap out of whatever spell he’d been under and glared at the
prince as if just noticing his presence.
"I said enough... of this talking, it is wearying. Come, let us go to 
dinner,"
he said, regaining some of his composure, yet the prince still looked at
him with concern.
"Are you well, my lord?"
"I'm fine," snapped the king, and strode out of the chamber into the dining
hall. Boromir noticed with satisfaction that Aragorn’s lower region was
conveniently hidden beneath the wide royal cloak.

The supper passed without incident, and this time Aragorn, who was still
fuming with lightly-concealed anger, seemed determined not to make any
contact whatsoever with Boromir, who happily ate his meal without a care
in the world.

Afterwards as Boromir made his way back to his own bedroom, he was
thinking that the dinner had gone very well. But it probably wasn’t a good
idea when he had ‘accidentally’ tripped up the servant and caused him to
drop the platter of puffed pastry all down his lap. It had caused him stand
up in front of the whole table and he’d spent at least ten minutes wiping
the front of his crotch with a damp cloth. Slowly.
During this incident he glimpsed at Aragorn and noted the man looked
very flushed - his cheeks two flames of red and his gaze forcefully darting
everywhere around the room except on Boromir.
And Boromir couldn’t help but smile as he lapped up every moment of it.

Just as he opened the door to his room he noticed a shadow from the
corner of his eye materialise in the empty corridor. Aragorn stepped into
visibility.
"How unexpected," lied Boromir as he turned around.
Aragorn couldn’t conceal the pained look on his face. And his hands kept
twitching, as if he couldn’t decide between slapping Boromir or groping
him.
"You didn’t come to me this afternoon," he said angrily.
"It must have slipped my mind, *ever* so sorry. Did you have a nice
supper?" Boromir gave a sickly sweet smile because, well, he felt like it.
"You made the feast a torture for me, Boromir, especially when they
served the after-dinner sweeteners," said a half-crazed-looking Aragorn.
"Oh? I had no idea," he feigned.
"I just kept looking at those éclairs and all I could think of was you!"
Boromir stifled a laugh. "Really? Those huge, long éclairs? The ones that
leak plenty of white cream? I wondered why you were looking so sweaty
during dessert."
"Damn you Boromir, you know I can't go through one formal dinner now
without getting a hard on? Pies, cakes - I cant stop thinking about you
whenever I see them! What have you done to me?"
Boromir grinned, "I can't imagine. Have I really turned you into such a
horny bastard?"
Aragorn didn’t answer, but merely smouldered, so Boromir continued:
"Pies and cakes, huh? What about buns, Aragorn? Hmmm? Do like buns
as well? Would you like to grab my buns and squeeze them? They’re so
hard and smooth…’
At that, Aragorn could take no more and groaned as his libido
overpowered him. He lunged at the captain and started kissing him deeply.
Using his weight, he forced the other man against the wall and ripped open
Boromir’s shirt, their mouths never parting. Boromir didn’t seem too
concerned as they made towards the bed, shutting the door behind them.

That night, they made love again, hungrily, as if they were men who had
been toiling in the hot desert for countless years and were on the verge of
death, until finally coming upon an ocean of cold spring water. Both men
drank deeply of each other’s lust, until their thirst was abated for a 
while.
They both knew they would never be completely full of each other, and
would always come back- thirsty for more passion, more intensity, more
love.

Chapter 4: The Final Swallow.

Boromir entered the King’s chambers later the next day. It was the
evening and he had received a rather large muffin - perhaps Aragorn was
already desperate for another 'treat'? The captain laughed to himself. The
king was the only man he knew that could keep up with his own rampant
sex drive, and now he was back in the very place where it had all begun.
Every time he entered that room, the wonderfully fresh-baked smell
invaded all his senses. He’d quite unwillingly learned to associate it with
sweat, sex and sweetness. Now, just the very memory of that smell caused
his spine to shiver and manhood to stiffen.
As he walked in, he noticed the familiar shape half-hidden by the
shadows.
"Snack-time already? I would have thought you’d had your fill... after...
last..." Boromir faltered as he beheld his lover.
Aragorn stepped into the candlelight to show that he was utterly naked.
Boromir was used to this, but this time the king was covered from head to
toe with a rainbow of sticky substances, some in great, big, drooling lumps
that glistened like slime in the weak light. It looked like he had been
painted all over with every colour imaginable.
He had that sneaky, smug grin plastered on his face that the captain knew
to be wary of.
"I have a new game for you," he said. "I’ve been experimenting and have
come up with some rather ingenious different flavoured muffins. Then I
crushed them, and smeared their thick syrup all over various parts of my
body. It's your task to taste every area and decipher each flavour."
Boromir’s was speechless for a moment, but as he looked at the king,
walking over to the bed and causing many different-coloured stains as he
positioned himself on the sheets, Boromir knew he was serious.
"You are one kinky man, Aragorn," was all he managed to blurt out.
The king cocked his head to one side with a smile, the sticky ooze
dripping from his skin onto the bed.
"Interesting," he remarked. "I’m lying here naked for your pleasure, and
yet you still insist using that mouth for talking when I’ve clearly got a
better use for it. I suggest you start -," and here Aragorn licked his lips,
showing that even his tongue was a slightly amber colour, "- with my
mouth."
Boromir didn’t need to be told twice, and he rushed over to the bed despite
his raging hard on getting in the way. Just as he was about to kiss Aragorn,
the other man stopped him by grabbing onto his crotch through his pants.
"Listen to me, and I mean it, Boromir. You are only allowed to touch me
with your mouth, but you have to be naked as well while doing it. You
will start with my tongue and work your way from there. If you guess the
correct flavour, I will allow you to pass onto the next area. If not... you
must put one item of your clothing back on. Is that clear?" He finished
with a horribly nasty smile.
Boromir let out an almighty groan. "Fuck Aragorn! Are you trying to drive
me insane?" But the other man’s stare was stern, to show he was
absolutely not kidding. With a sigh of annoyance he stripped down naked
and walked over to Aragorn, who had his orange tongue stuck out for
Boromir.
In truth, he was secretly excited - he had never imagined Aragorn coming
up with such a deliciously disgusting way of getting him even more horny
than he already was. He would play along with this game, for now, but his
crippling urge to fuck Aragorn senseless this very minute was fast trying
to overpower him.

He bent down and slowly opened his mouth to suckle Aragorn’s entire
tongue, making sure not to touch any other part of him except the mouth.
He easily identified the flavour. "Oranges," he whispered.
"Very good," smiled the other man, who had enjoyed how eagerly his
lover had ravaged his whole tongue, but it was time to continue with the
game.
Boromir, who could handle no more waiting, immediately reached for
Aragorn’s cock, but it was instantly slapped away. He looked into his
lover’s face, pleading, begging for release, but Aragorn wasn’t having any
of it.
"Ear," he commanded.
Boromir thought he would explode with frustration, but willed himself to
carry on. He began to nibble the king’s right ear, causing the man to
squeak with ticklish joy.
"Blueberry," Boromir said.
Aragorn confirmed the guess, looking disappointed that it was already
over, but breathlessly indicated for Boromir to start on the cream-coloured
substance smeared over his nipples. Boromir hastily complied and could
not help but smile as he heard his lovers purrs of satisfaction, and also
began to enjoy himself immensely.
Soon he had licked off all the substance before he answered: "Banana."
Aragorn nodded and lifted up his left foot for the next region. Boromir
again began to work with his tongue, causing Aragorn to erupt in a fit of
giggles as he made he way around the toes.
"Raspberry," he said after he had finished- his face was now a whole mess
of sticky colours.
Aragorn had stopped laughing by now and spoke huskily. "Cock," he said.
Boromir bent over the man’s stiff member and viciously attacked it with
all his skill. He delighted in hearing his lover’s moans as he brought him
to closer to climax. But Boromir wanted revenge- he was still incredibly
horny, and while licking off and listening to Aragorn had been an
unbelievably erotic sensation, he decided it was time to turn the teaser 
into
the teased.
"Oh yes... don’t stop Boromir... almost there... what?" Aragorn opened his
eyes in shock to see Boromir had stopped pleasuring him on the verge of
orgasm and was instead standing in front of him.
"Apple," answered the other man curtly.
Aragorn was about to yell at Boromir to tell him to finish the job, when he
realised what the captain was up to. Although he was flustered, he coolly
instructed for the man to continue.
Time passed as Boromir explored all the other places- hands, neck, belly-
button, even the underarms were smeared - which he quickly found out
was with chocolate.
Through it all Aragorn moaned in delight, the warm, moist mouth digging
into his every crevice and surface.

Then Boromir finally reached his rear, and licked the sweet buttocks up
and down, lapping up the red-coloured substance. It hit him what it was
and looked up at the king. "Cherry," he growled huskily. "Definitely
sweet, ripe cherry." His last strand of self-control finally snapped, and 
his
animal urges drove him.
Before Aragorn could answer, Boromir thrust his legs upwards and
ploughed his own manhood deep into Aragorn, causing him to cry out in
surprise. But that didn't stop Boromir, who was too far over the edge and
continued to ram the other man. Aragorn looked at Boromir and saw a
deep, intense desire on the Steward’s face that he had never imagined. It
was wild and hungry and utterly focused on the task at hand. He hadn’t
even used any oil, remarked Aragorn, as he began to get used to the rough
pleasures that swept his insides. He now relied on the smeared cherry-
muffin jelly as lube.

After Boromir climaxed, he let out a howl that echoed around the room,
and collapsed on top of his conquest.
Aragorn used this moment to get his breath back as well. Boromir had
taken him roughly and almost knocked the air out of him. He loved every
second of it. He looked up into his lover’s eyes.
That carnal desire seemed to fade, and Boromir’s eyes returned to normal.
He looked around shocked, as if just realising what he had done. "Oh
Aragorn, I didn’t even use the flask! I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to, did I
hurt you?"
But Aragorn only laughed, "Nothing that won’t heal, my love. I actually
enjoyed it, I had no idea you could be like that! Don’t worry about me - 
I'll
just have a very sore arse for a few days." He shifted around underneath
Boromir and felt the red stinging soreness surge through him. "Um, better
make that a few weeks," he giggled.
Boromir now started to blush, "I don’t know what came over me... I just
looked at you and suddenly nothing else mattered, all I knew was that if I
didn’t take you right there and then I would go mad."
"It looks like I’ve found your weakness."
"Oh gods, that’s right. I, I remember now. It was all too much for me, the
cherry... smeared all down there... the scent... the taste..." His eyes
darkened, and that wild, ferocious hunger sparked back into his eyes for an
instant before they faded back to normality. He gazed into Aragorn’s blue
eyes and held them for what seemed like an eternity.
"I love you, you fucking filthy tease," he whispered.
The other man smiled that smug smile of his. "I love you more you dirty,
horny beast. I think we’ve finally found your perfect flavour."
Boromir nestled into Aragorn’s chest. "You were always my perfect
flavour. Cherry is just the icing on the muffin."

THE END.