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vulgarweedI know hobbits traditionally give gifts on their birthdays, rather than receive them, but I thought it would be nice to get Bilbo spectacularly laid on his this time. (And besides, he both gives and receives in this fic!)
Have an excerpt from "Honeypot," the 12,000-word Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn PWP I hope to have finished and posted by the end of the week. Under a cut because it's long and it's filthy, and maybe someone out there isn't so into the size kink and the shapeshifting bear kink.
But if you are . . .
“Oh, I say,” BIlbo muttered. “I may be small but there is enough of me for both of you to enjoy if you just learn how to share.”
Beorn huffed angrily - and it was not lost on Bilbo that he didn’t speak, that he seemed to have lost his words, that he seemed to be growing larger and furrier in the sheen of moonlight that distorted everything and deceived the eye. Then Beorn went back to work with the honey dripper, making the already-honey-coloured curls at the base of Bilbo’s cock stiff and sticky, dribbling little streaks over the head of his prick before lowering his head to taste.
“Careful with him,” Thorin said, hardly a breath, barely audible, but Beorn’s ears were keen, and he glared across Bilbo’s shivering body. Then Beorn bent, and took Bilbo’s prick in his mouth with a startling softness, gentle at first, not a slightest hint of his long dangerous teeth touching him.
Bilbo was terrified, and that only served to heighten his pleasure. Thorin dared to bend over him now, draping his long hair over Bilbo’s face. Bilbo felt the prickle of Thorin’s beard and moustache on his neck and shoulder, and felt Thorin bite him hard in exactly the same way that Beorn did not, and he lost himself in dual sensation, cruelty at his top and tenderness engulfing his cock, pulling and licking and sucking, pure pleasure administered by a terrifying monster of a man.
Thorin gave a deep groan of delight as he watched this, leaning close, making sure to miss nothing. Beorn growled at him a little jealously, as if Thorin were trying to steal his meal. Thorin ground his teeth and leaned back a little as Bilbo tried to squeeze his hand just before he closed his eyes and was lost to the world as the smooth texture of a sharp fang stroked his length with a delicacy he couldn't have imagined in such a fearsome beast of a man. But he remembered that Beorn ate no meat and did not hunt, and would harm no living creature who didn't wish him ill. It made Bilbo feel almost safe in his mouth, surrounded by those great hairy arms as Beorn leaned closer over him and worked his long rough tongue around Bilbo's bollocks and his soft inner thighs and the lower curves of his arse, snuffling for air as he licked every last drop of honey from Bilbo's skin and downy hair, and continued to lick and suck when Bilbo was sure it all must be long gone.
"Why is your Dwarf just staring and doing nothing?" Beorn asked when he came up for air and left Bilbo gasping.
"Because I feared you would hurt him if I dared," snarled Thorin, more than a little bearish himself.
"You should think better of me by now," Beorn said, low and gruff as he reached out and pulled Thorin"s hair. "Show me what you're made of, if you are not afraid."
"Afraid?" Thorin said, in that low voice that Bilbo had come to recognize as very dangerous indeed. "Thorin Oakenshield, the rightful king of Erebor, afraid of a tumble with a hobbit and a - whatever you are? My ancestors would rise from their tombs and strangle me for shame if I -"
"Oh, do shut up and kiss him," Bilbo whined. "Touch me - touch him - do something, I cannot stand waiting any longer."
Thorin leaned forward and so did Beorn, and they pinned Bilbo between them as their mouths came together, and Bilbo looked up into the growling tangle of hair and beards and lips and teeth and flashes of tongue. King of Dwarves and a king of beasts, together, and Bilbo liked to imagine for a moment that he was the spoils of their intimate war.
As if hearing his thoughts, Beorn and Thorin both put hands upon him and punctuated their savage, grunting kisses with with grasps and pinches and caresses of Bilbo’s nipples and cock and thighs, taking liberties with him that they hardly seemed to notice, being so wrapped up in each other. Their huge, calloused hands caught and dragged on places still sticky with honey, and Bilbo groaned and made a high-pitched sound as Beorn’s huge hand reached between his legs and under his straining cock and took up his delicate little sac of stones, now heavy and full and sensitive, and Bilbo bit his lip and writhed into it.
His hands now released from Thorin’s forgetful grasp, Bilbo decided to counterstrike while they were occupied, and tried to stealthy as he angled himself so that not one but two massive cocks were within range of his grip. He could not fit his hand around either one - Beorn’s, not even close - but bless him, he tried, and squeezed and slid as best he could for the thrill of the two of them gasping and groaning into each other’s mouths and breaking apart from their devouring kiss to look down on him with unrestrained lust.
“We really must do a better job of making sure no one is left out,” Bilbo said peevishly.
“And when you say, ‘we’--” demanded Thorin, who now had seemed to overcome all his reservations about Beorn.
“I mean exactly that,” said Bilbo, ineffectually sliding his little hand about on Beorn’s massive shaft. “Seeing as how this here appears to be a two-person job.”
~~~
Happy Birthday, Bagginses! (Sorry Frodo. No, he didn't tell you everything about his adventures. Don't look!)
Have an excerpt from "Honeypot," the 12,000-word Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn PWP I hope to have finished and posted by the end of the week. Under a cut because it's long and it's filthy, and maybe someone out there isn't so into the size kink and the shapeshifting bear kink.
But if you are . . .
“Oh, I say,” BIlbo muttered. “I may be small but there is enough of me for both of you to enjoy if you just learn how to share.”
Beorn huffed angrily - and it was not lost on Bilbo that he didn’t speak, that he seemed to have lost his words, that he seemed to be growing larger and furrier in the sheen of moonlight that distorted everything and deceived the eye. Then Beorn went back to work with the honey dripper, making the already-honey-coloured curls at the base of Bilbo’s cock stiff and sticky, dribbling little streaks over the head of his prick before lowering his head to taste.
“Careful with him,” Thorin said, hardly a breath, barely audible, but Beorn’s ears were keen, and he glared across Bilbo’s shivering body. Then Beorn bent, and took Bilbo’s prick in his mouth with a startling softness, gentle at first, not a slightest hint of his long dangerous teeth touching him.
Bilbo was terrified, and that only served to heighten his pleasure. Thorin dared to bend over him now, draping his long hair over Bilbo’s face. Bilbo felt the prickle of Thorin’s beard and moustache on his neck and shoulder, and felt Thorin bite him hard in exactly the same way that Beorn did not, and he lost himself in dual sensation, cruelty at his top and tenderness engulfing his cock, pulling and licking and sucking, pure pleasure administered by a terrifying monster of a man.
Thorin gave a deep groan of delight as he watched this, leaning close, making sure to miss nothing. Beorn growled at him a little jealously, as if Thorin were trying to steal his meal. Thorin ground his teeth and leaned back a little as Bilbo tried to squeeze his hand just before he closed his eyes and was lost to the world as the smooth texture of a sharp fang stroked his length with a delicacy he couldn't have imagined in such a fearsome beast of a man. But he remembered that Beorn ate no meat and did not hunt, and would harm no living creature who didn't wish him ill. It made Bilbo feel almost safe in his mouth, surrounded by those great hairy arms as Beorn leaned closer over him and worked his long rough tongue around Bilbo's bollocks and his soft inner thighs and the lower curves of his arse, snuffling for air as he licked every last drop of honey from Bilbo's skin and downy hair, and continued to lick and suck when Bilbo was sure it all must be long gone.
"Why is your Dwarf just staring and doing nothing?" Beorn asked when he came up for air and left Bilbo gasping.
"Because I feared you would hurt him if I dared," snarled Thorin, more than a little bearish himself.
"You should think better of me by now," Beorn said, low and gruff as he reached out and pulled Thorin"s hair. "Show me what you're made of, if you are not afraid."
"Afraid?" Thorin said, in that low voice that Bilbo had come to recognize as very dangerous indeed. "Thorin Oakenshield, the rightful king of Erebor, afraid of a tumble with a hobbit and a - whatever you are? My ancestors would rise from their tombs and strangle me for shame if I -"
"Oh, do shut up and kiss him," Bilbo whined. "Touch me - touch him - do something, I cannot stand waiting any longer."
Thorin leaned forward and so did Beorn, and they pinned Bilbo between them as their mouths came together, and Bilbo looked up into the growling tangle of hair and beards and lips and teeth and flashes of tongue. King of Dwarves and a king of beasts, together, and Bilbo liked to imagine for a moment that he was the spoils of their intimate war.
As if hearing his thoughts, Beorn and Thorin both put hands upon him and punctuated their savage, grunting kisses with with grasps and pinches and caresses of Bilbo’s nipples and cock and thighs, taking liberties with him that they hardly seemed to notice, being so wrapped up in each other. Their huge, calloused hands caught and dragged on places still sticky with honey, and Bilbo groaned and made a high-pitched sound as Beorn’s huge hand reached between his legs and under his straining cock and took up his delicate little sac of stones, now heavy and full and sensitive, and Bilbo bit his lip and writhed into it.
His hands now released from Thorin’s forgetful grasp, Bilbo decided to counterstrike while they were occupied, and tried to stealthy as he angled himself so that not one but two massive cocks were within range of his grip. He could not fit his hand around either one - Beorn’s, not even close - but bless him, he tried, and squeezed and slid as best he could for the thrill of the two of them gasping and groaning into each other’s mouths and breaking apart from their devouring kiss to look down on him with unrestrained lust.
“We really must do a better job of making sure no one is left out,” Bilbo said peevishly.
“And when you say, ‘we’--” demanded Thorin, who now had seemed to overcome all his reservations about Beorn.
“I mean exactly that,” said Bilbo, ineffectually sliding his little hand about on Beorn’s massive shaft. “Seeing as how this here appears to be a two-person job.”
~~~
Happy Birthday, Bagginses! (Sorry Frodo. No, he didn't tell you everything about his adventures. Don't look!)
