Moonlight

Authors note: This story is set in the Lord of the Rings universe for convenience and also because I like the races and the magic. It does not contain ANY of the characters from the real series. I made up every character in this story. I used the resources I could to make everyone's appearances and backgrounds match up with their races and occupations and locations to the best of my ability. The number of continuations I make depends on how well liked it is and whether I want to or not. Thank you for reading this, ENJOY!! Feel free to leave feedback.

"What the?" Taurion stared at the dark water in front of him as he took a dip in the river. Flowing down from the mountain were what seemed like...soap bubbles? Curiosity overtook him. He hadn't seen anything like this for the last few nights he'd been camping by the forest river. He waded out of the water and pulled on his trousers and boots taking his knife with him just in case, and followed the river upstream.

Minutes later he was striding silently through the dark woods, stepping over twigs and rocks. As he climbed the bubbles became more frequent. He found the source was a small brook that flowed in through the trees, so he branched off in the direction it came from. Through the foliage, he spotted a faint light at the base of the mountain. It had only been five minutes or so, so he figured he wasn't very far from his camp. Knife in hand, he made his way to the light shining on the rocks. A few paces away, he could see an opening in the rock face, seeming to glow steadily. The air smelled faintly of flowers and honey. Going to one side would be the best idea, so with his hands on the wall, he looked in.

He couldn't believe his eyes. A woman. An elf woman. She stood on a mossy rock in the middle of a shallow pond in the cave, bathing under a hole in the roof that let in a steady stream of moonlit water. One torch lit the far wall, just enough to make it easier to see. Her pale glowing skin and wet dark hair had small bubbles in it, a lot of the suds flowing around her into the moat and out to the stream. He watched as she soaped herself up, bending and reaching and stretching in lots of interesting ways. He scolded himself as a filthy pervert, averting his eyes and turning away. The life of a ranger was a lonely one, and he hadn't had anything nice to think about in a while. And he wasn't hurting her at all. He came back to looking. He studied her delicate features while she rinsed off, very surprised when she slipped her fingers between her folds and began to play with herself after looking to make sure she was alone.

Soon his hand was in his trousers too. It felt so vulnerable to be doing something like this in the woods, but it heightened the experience. It seemed she hadn't spied him. The woman had laid down and was using both hands to ravage herself at an angle where he could see maybe half of the goings on, but could hear her every whimper, a sound which drove him wild. She seemed so needy, he wanted to chance getting closer, but as his foot crossed the threshold she disappeared, and all was dark. He looked everywhere to no avail. She was gone. Dignity lost he slunk back to his tent, finishing himself in the dark, his mind filled with her memory.

_________________________________________________

She found the cave around her 350th year. The cave was at the end of a long tunnel she had found in with some boulders at the bottom of the mountain. She was sure no one else knew about it, and she intended to keep it that way. It was her favorite place. Somewhere she could finally be completely alone, and with her family being so busy, there was no one to look for her. There was a large hole in the roof that was very close to a waterfall and poured a steady stream of water down onto a rock hill in the center and flowed down to meet the river. The feeling of moss between her toes and the smell of trees was bliss. There was another smaller opening in the rock leading to the woods, but she had very rarely seen anyone out there. She often took a bar of soap to bathe under the moonlit water. Done with bathing, she would use this time alone to play with her delicate wet folds and relieve some stress. In the last few hundred years she had taken quite a liking to this. None of the other elves had ever talked about self pleasure, so it was an accidental discovery. She had laid with her husband once, but he perished in war before they could bear child. Since then she had not cared to find another. He was her one true partner, but that was gone now.

One full moon, however, she was not alone.

Elves have very keen senses, they know when someone is lurking around. While finishing up with her bathing, Gillien had smelled something peculiar. The scent, she had noted, was of a man. He did not have the sweet scent of elves, it was more of trees and smoke than of flowers and dirt. She could not see him, but she could tell he was not far away. She ignored it and kept on washing. The scent got closer, and out of the corner of her eye, she spied him. He had crouched by the door of the cave and was breathing quite heavily.

This sent a shiver down her spine, and the thought of being watched gave her a splendid giddiness. She had toyed with a few men who had dared to watch her in the past, and always found it quite thrilling to tease them. Feigning ignorance, she laid on the mossy rock and began to slide her fingers around between her legs. She had always fancied having one hand for her opening and one for her very sensitive button, so she went to work. Knowing she was being watched made it all the better. Moans escaped her lips, her hips gyrating beneath her. Her two longest fingers massaged her insides while the other hand shot waves of pleasure through her body. More desperate became her moans as she neared the finish. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man trying to enter the cave. She snuffed put the torch and vanished, slinking down the long hidden passage back home. Sounds of him splashing in the pond told her that he was searching for her. She would simply finish in her bed later. Her clothes were on a rock by the entrance, so she put them on and made her way through the towering trees and toward her home, smiling and feeling excited for the first time in a long while.

Has he left? Sitting at an elf banquet table in the forest, everyone was talking and eating and getting on with merrymaking, as one does. But Gillien was sitting and nibbling on a chicken leg while dwelling on thoughts of herself and the circumstances of life. Thinking over the recent events, she wondered on the small spark of joy that prospered even in the darkness of her shame.

Elf custom said that one was to abstain until marriage. Gillien had spent ample time when she was young sitting with other elves her age and heard them talk with dreamy eyes about who they desired to wed when the time came. They eagerly awaited for the day that they would be able to consummate their marriage and further the prestigious line of the elves. The act of sex was what signified marriage. It was a big deal in their culture.

Gillien had never seen it that way. She had asked others, they didn't care to have relations with anyone outside of or before marriage, they dreamed of it being special and romantic. She did not. In the height of her puberty, she laid in bed every night thinking about men. The shame she felt about her desires never lessened as she grew into a woman. Once married and widowed, she spent most of her time thinking about men and dick. She had loved sex, while she could have it, and she craved it as she aged. She was still quite young, but she did not care to pursue the elf men. Most of them were already wed to others anyhow, and the ones not wed were quite prudish in nature.

No one paid any mind to Gillien sitting at the table. She largely went unnoticed most of the time anyways, being one of the middle children out of four. This allowed her to explore her thoughts and feelings. She thought about the man from before, about his penis and how it would feel inside of her. The thrill she got from teasing him made it all seem worth it. After the feast, she spent a long time brushing her hair and making sure it was detangled. She bathed every night, so her long locks were always shiny and clean. Once in her soft bed, she slipped quickly into sleep.

The next day, she awoke excited for the night. She went about her day, waiting eagerly for the people to finally filter back into their homes for sleep. Once they were inside, she grabbed her soap bar and headed to the cave. There wasn't anyone there, that she could sense. So she started her regular routine, soaping up and washing her hair gingerly. Finally, while rinsing off, she sensed him. Again she let him be, reveling in the way his eyes made her feel. Sitting on the rock, one hand propped her up and the other went between her legs.

This time she had her legs spread to him, so he could see everything. As her hand went to work, she pretended not to see his head poke out a little from the doorway. Her face got hot from the shame she felt at her own excitement from being on display. She could see half of him, but he did not know this. He was massaging himself too, and having fun with it, going at quite a speed. She watched his cock as it grew and she imagined it plunging deep into her, and she sighed, using her fingers to massage her insides as she watched. He finally noticed that she saw him, and she smiled, and he disappeared for a moment, reappearing to find her still smiling at him. He kept going then, and a few minutes later he tried to come into the cave, and she disappeared again, partly from shyness, and partly from shame. Once again she finished herself in her bed while dreaming of him.

The next two nights were much the same, except for one time when she got to finish before he tried to come in the cave, so she moaned for him and heard him making noises of his own, cumming for her right outside the cave door. On the fourth night, however, she let him into the cave. He stepped in gingerly, waiting for her approval, and stood with his back to the wall, his eyes feasting on her while he stroked his shaft. He was tall, just barely shorter than her she guessed, and a little muscled. He seemed a traveler of some sort, not a workman. His black hair fell over his face somewhat, looking disheveled but still captivating. Stubble on his face gave him a mature worn-out look, but she couldn't tell his age. Gillien watched his face and his thick cock as she plunged her fingers into her pussy. Right as they both finished, he came forward and stepped into the water. Startled, she disappeared. She did not know why she still ran. That night, in her bed, she thought of him whilst she masturbated again, and told herself she would not run when approached next time, for sure.

The time came. She ran to the cave, doing her routine again, awaiting him. She was just beginning to wash up when he arrived, and he stepped in the cave as he had the night before, his shaft at attention. This night, as he stroked himself and devoured her with his eyes, she soaped up, bending far over to wash her legs and rubbing her breasts as she rinsed off. She sat again on the rock, fingers working, and he stepped forward slowly, again asking for approval. She nodded, sucking her fingers off. He came forward, doing something she had not at all expected.

She could only see his hazel eyes and brown hair peeking over the top of her mound, but the feelings the man produced in her were wild. His arms wound around her legs and his tongue slid around her soft folds, sucking the juices, and probing into her hole, only to come back out and around again. She moaned fervently, her eyes rolling back to her skull, feeling like it would explode if given half the chance. He kept on exploring her pussy and thighs, putting two of his fingers inside while his tongue flicked her clit. He coaxed a long slow orgasm out of the shy elf, her legs shaking and her wild moans bouncing off the walls of the cavern.

She had barely finished cumming when he rose and plunged his dripping cock deep inside her, making her gasp. He went slowly, taking the time to feel her curves and play with her breasts. His every touch burned so nicely in her senses, hot trails lingering under her skin. She gripped the rock as he built up speed, his hands around her waist. The feeling of being filled again was oh so satisfying. She had been needing a good dicking for centuries. Never had she heard a man moan, but his panting and groaning while pounding her ceaselessly set her insides on fire. No thoughts penetrated the pure lust that filled her mind. His cock poked at her cervix, only whimpers escaping her until they began to build an orgasm, their noises getting more desperate with every thrust. On the brink of climax, he sped up even more, his heavy sack bouncing against her ass, his moans ringing in her ears, and she felt hot semen flood her canal as her cunt gripped his dick in bliss. The music they made together filled the cave until the last moment.

They stayed there. Panting. Looking at each other. She noticed his ears. They were...pointed. More than the ears of the men usually are. Her heart skipped a beat. An elf would surely tell the others of her misdeeds here.

"Your ears! Are you of elven parents?" She blurted out in Sindarin, sitting up quickly.

"Only half, by my mother." He replied in kind, pushing her gently back down. She settled down a little, surprised that he knew the language.

His smile set her heart aflutter, and he brushed hair out of her face. "What is your name