The stories in the "Celebrity" section of Literotica are all fictional parodies - none are true, nor are they approved of by the celebrities named in the stories. Authors write these fictitious stories about famous people for the same reason that Larry Flynt made fun of Jerry Falwell, because they can. The Supreme Court of the United States, the country where this site is located, has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of "Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell" in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in these stories, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. We believe in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech and this section may push the boundaries of that principle, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material. We believe that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.
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"It's music she brings like wind in the trees
As love in days so short and dark nights long
And willows bend to her ripe harmonies
Our bodies entwine in desire so strong
As rhythm builds she wiggles on her knees
When pressed deep inside I feel I belong
My hands grasping hips in our ecstasies
In dance as perfect as her virgin song."
Tom Bombadil
from Goldberry's Dance
It was no secret in the forest why Goldberry was always so nice to everyone she met. In fact, anyone who knew her or knew of her would smile broadly when asked why she was always so happy. If anyone did ask, they'd always get the same answer: "Why it's Tom, Tom Bombadil." Typically the answer was followed by a sly snicker and perhaps some cheeks flushed in either embarrassment or excitement.
The thing that remained a secret was: What on Middle Earth did Tom do to satisfy Goldberry so. He was never particularly good looking, had a bit of a paunch, a scraggly beard and pretty frumpy clothing. As far as his personality, it was difficult for many to tell because he always seemed to be singing. It was different and interesting for a bit, but after a while it simply got tedious.
When other women cornered Goldberry in their discussion circles, they never cold get a straight answer from her. They would ask, "What makes Tom such a good lover?" she'd merely answer, "He is."
"He is?" they'd reply, "What do you mean, 'He is.'?"
Goldberry would smile shyly, her face flushing a bit and simply say, "I don't know how to explain it except that way. He is."
Of course, the real question on at least some of the women's minds had nothing to do with how good a lover Tom was, but what did Goldberry do to keep Tom to herself. Goldberry was pretty and the great one knows she is friendly, but none of them could really picture Goldberry as some sex goddess.
This was a mystery to almost all women, from the elvin finger maids, to the hobbit hookers, to human princesses, even to the dwarven cave sluts, all, at one time or another, had tried to seduce Tom. Oh, they'd get a rise out of him, wood firm as a tree, but he never made any advances to them and when they made the move, Tom would almost magically slip back into the forest leaving even the most experienced finger maids all hot and bothered.
Finally, after long hours of discussion spanning a dozen taverns in at least four different towns an odd hodpodge group of elves, dwarfs, humans and hobbits pooled their spare ale money and traveled to the Shire. The group all convened at the office burrow of the cleric Eric, the hobbit chronicler of tales great and small.
"You see grand cleric Eric, it's a grand mystery to us all. We all agree Tom's a good enough fellow, a bit strange, with some odd powers, but how is it he is so good," Brigan the dwarf asked. "I mean I've come upon him in the forest while he was relieving himself and even allowing for a lot of growth in the hands of a lady, if you get what I mean, it was nothing notable, not in the slightest."
Twilly the twice titled finger maid of the Magnolias, "And we need to know what keeps him from straying from Goldberry. Rohan knows I made ample use of my fingers trying to tickle into his trousers, but he took not of that."