Date: Wed, 04 Aug 2004 13:11:43 +0000
From: JC <little_demon203@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tales of Middle Earth: Part One- Chapter 5

Disclaimer:
Lord of the Rings and Middle Earth are the property of JRR Tolkein and New
Line Cinema, and I have no connection with either.
None of the characters described here are meant to besmirch the original and
much loved characters of Lord of the Rings, or imply anything about the
actors who played them in the movie trilogy.
If you are too young, or don't like gay stories, PLEASE GO ELSEWHERE, or
I'll get in trouble.
These stories contain scenes of gay sex without condoms or protection,
because it doesn't seem likely that condoms would exist in Middle Earth, or
STDs for that matter - don't try and copy these fictional characters -
always wear a condom during sex, the experience isn't worth the risk

Author's Notes:
I'd once again like to apologise for the lateness of this chapter, its just
I've been on holiday in Cornwall for a week, only just got home, and I
needed time to get back into the flow of writing.
I did get a bit of a weak response to last week, some even containing my
first flames over this story! Most seemed to be discouraging me to stop
using the dwarves as sexual characters, as the one mental example we now
have of a dwarf is John Rhys-Davies, which I thought was a bit rude; it is
MY story after all! But, as I said before, all opinions are welcome and will
be considered. I hope this chapter is more to your liking...

Tales of Middle Earth
Part One - Chapter 5
Minas Tirith / 1

Boromir looked down upon Minas Tirith from where he stood at the third level
of the Tower of Ecthelion, and sighed contentedly. Beyond the lower walls of
the city, the south-western wards of Ithilien stretched away over across
Pelinor fields, the city of Osgiliath and the River Anduin, over to the
Ephel Duath (Mountains of Shadow) that separated Mordor from the rest of
Middle Earth. Boromir felt his chest swell with pride, knowing that all that
lay before him up until those dark mountains was his homeland, Middle
Earth's one and only line of defence against the Shadow. Not that there was
anything to worry about anymore; Mount Doom had, of course been moderately
silent since the time of Isildur, but it was a good feeling, knowing that
only Gondor stood before Middle Earth and the Dark lands.
Looking down from the shadowy mountains in the far distance, he cast his
eyes down towards the Court of the White Tree, the straight-backed sentry
guards standing duty, motionless and unblinking, their legs apart in ease
position, waiting for a danger that would probably never come. Boromir's
smile grew wider. The thick muscled legs of the Guards were clad in shining
armour, and the long, knee-length black tunic under their armour hung over
the muscular buttocks like two globes, visible when the wind blew their long
cloaks aside. Boromir felt increasing tension in his groins. If he wanted,
he could command every soldier, guard or even gardener in Gondor to fuck
him, one at a time, and they would be honoured to do it, the future Steward
of Gondor. And Boromir hadn't neglected this licence to fuck in the
slightest. He was in fact known as one of the most rampant butt-fuckers in
the land, and he loved it.
As he stared down at the courtyard, he suddenly noticed Faramir, his younger
brother, approaching from the set of stairs up from the city to the citadel.
Even if Faramir was his brother, Boromir couldn't help finding him slightly
attractive, but had never really considered acting on this. But the way his
eyes always seemed passive and calm, and he thick set of his jaw, and,
although it had been a long time, more than fifteen years in fact, since he
had seen his brother naked, he knew just by studying the bulge between
Faramir's legs that his younger brother was just as well hung as he was
himself, if not more. The very image of this made Boromir's cock swell
further, and he flushed slightly, as he watches Faramir come closer.

Faramir had just returned from his review of the garrison in Osgiliath, and
he was downright annoyed. It wasn't as though the troops were in disarray or
anything like that, it was just the way that all of them would stop talking
as he went past, the smiles fading from their faces as their attention was
drawn to him, youngest son of the Steward. It wasn't as if he was a
tight-fisted Sergeant or anything, disapproving of anything anyone did other
than work and fight. Faramir had made sure that he didn't treat his troops
like this, having been tutored by a man of exacting description when he was
much younger, and he hadn't appreciated it. But these men seemed to think of
him as a party wrecker or something, the way they looked at him as he walked
by. It also upset Faramir to see the brilliant relationship his elder
brother had with the same men, always drinking and laughing like most men
do, and him always feeling left out. He had no hard feelings towards
Boromir, in any way, but he wished he could be like that.
As he reached the court of the White Tree, the gnarled leafless willow-like
trunk rooted in the centre, he, as always, noticed the five guards standing
there, their faces set with their long black cloaks billowing in the wind
that blew down from the mountains, their silver armour seeming to enhance
their bodies to a point of masculine perfection. Faramir always found it
difficult to walk calmly past these guards without more than a glance. It
had been easier when he was a young lad; the guards were simply 'there';
hardly anyone ever paid them any attention, like ornaments, to put it
literally. But about the same time he had started growing hair on his chest,
Faramir had begun to find it more and more hard not to stare at the guard's
firm muscles and handsome faces, especially while he was a teenager, when
the slightest movement gave him a hardon, and still the fascination
lingered.
Faramir knew that his attraction to these Guards at a young age was probably
why he had problems interacting with the soldiers, although they walked and
talked, much more human than the citadel guards, but he had huge difficulty
in controlling his hormones while hundreds of tall, muscular warriors
surrounded him, hard to keep wild images of them slowly removing all their
armour and clothes down to their underwear while he watched. So intense were
these images that whenever a fellow soldier had spoken to him, he had found
himself tongue-tied and unable to do more than grunt and shake or nod his
head, limiting the soldiers to asking him yes or no questions, leaving him
out of the general banter. As a result of this, he found himself drawing
away from the large groups, unable to conceal his lust and arousal while
hundreds of fit and sweaty soldiers sat around, drinking and laughing,
putting their big arms around each other's shoulders and laughing, telling
dirty jokes and stories, mostly involving escapades with bawdy women and the
size of their own manhood, and it was more than Faramir could bear. One
other thing Faramir hadn't noticed in youth was the way men smelled. The
scent of older men, especially Boromir, had been around him since birth, but
he hadn't really noticed it until he first walked into the barracks of the
Othram, the outer wall of Minas Tirith. He had been 17 at the time, and the
smell had been almost overpowering at first, but he soon got used to it. But
as he began to spend more and more time in the barracks, being surrounded by
these men who rarely took the time to wash, it quickly became a source of
instant arousal for him. The real shock came when he first saw one of these
magnificent males unclothed, only from behind, but the smoothness of his
body and the roundness of his buttocks, capped off by the colossal amount of
muscle he had, and the grime that darkened his skin, almost made the young
Faramir pass out from the hormonal pressure. He had turned and run, never
knowing if the soldier had noticed him or not. And that image had stayed
with him since then, a nightly jerkoff fantasy, and a haunting image while
he was in the barracks and garrisons, unable to beat off to relieve the
tension, only able to savour the arousing torture it caused him.
This is why the sight of the Citadel Guard that day made him pick up his
stride and turn his eyes away after a second glance at the tall men in
armour. The throbbing sensation he was feeling in his groin as he took in
the Guard's form was the source of all his annoyance and frustration, and he
had no idea what to do, and why he wished he were more like Boromir. Once
again, his memory picked out random images of his hunky big brother joining
in drinking games and contests in the garrisons while he watched, too shy to
do the same. Faramir knew that his brother was gay, of course (but not of
his rampancy!), and he knew all the soldiers knew this. He himself had come
to terms with his own sexuality a few years back, but nobody knew for sure.
But every time he saw Boromir sitting getting drunk with the soldiers and
guards, all he could think about was that Boromir seemed to be able to
control himself around other men, seemed to be able to deal with the obvious
sex appeal that hung over the barracks in a palpable aura, while he hung
around, lonely and horny, wishing he could do the same, but afraid of
rejection. The very thought made him feel like crying.

Boromir, high up in the tower, continued to watch his brother as he
approached the hall of the kings and entered the palace, saw him give all
the guards a good once-over, and then almost jog away with his head bowed
slightly, as though ashamed. Boromir frowned to himself. Despite the natural
sibling rivalry that had blighted them both during youth, he loved Faramir
very much, and it made him anxious to see his little brother, a Chief Ranger
of Ithilien, act ashamed in his own court. Without a second thought, Boromir
turned to the spiral stairs and climbed down, jumping a couple of steps in
his haste. He reached the bottom just in time to see Faramir head towards
the upper floors of the white palace, and he followed at a half jog, trying
not to loose him. Once at the second floor, he saw Faramir, still quite a
distance ahead, head towards his room, enter and close the door.

Faramir, like most young men, enjoyed the solitude of his own bedroom. He
had used to share this room with Boromir many years ago, but their father
had insisted that they have separate rooms when Boromir turned fifteen. But
even though the older Son of Denethor had not occupied the room for almost
ten years, the smell of him still lingered like an imprint, mingling with
the now stronger smell of Faramir himself. It was comforting, like a
subconscious protection.
Faramir removed his cloak and jerkin, and tossed them carelessly over a
high-backed chair before falling backwards onto his bed, still in his boots,
inhaling his own scent as he did every night before he slept.
As he lay, completely relaxed, images began to come back to him. Tall guards
and soldiers in armour, a naked soldier undressing in front of a tent, five,
ten, maybe even twenty soldiers and guards standing before him, stripping
slowly, standing before him in white wool underwear, willing to do whatever
he desired...
Almost without realising it, Faramir had released his fat, rigid manhood
from his trousers and was stroking it gently in time with his red-hot
fantasy.
In his minds eye, a tall, massively built hairy soldier approached him, his
burly muscles flexing as he moved, the colossal bulge in his underpants
enticing Faramir's imagination as he stroked faster and faster, squeezing
harder as he pounded. The big soldier stood before him, his hips thrust
forwards proudly, as if offering the younger man his manhood, while two
younger, smoother guards came up and started stroking and caressing the
soldier's chest almost lovingly. Faramir felt the pleasure building in his
loins, and skipped the fantasy on slightly. The two young guards were
sucking on the big soldier's huge cock as others in the background did the
same. The soldier was not looking at the two younger men as they pleasured
him, but kept his eyes on Faramir, his teeth gritted and his jaw locked, his
square face reddening and a fire lighting in his blue eyes. Faramir now
recognized this man as one of the Othram sentries, whom he had only seen in
small glances while riding through the city gates on horseback, always clad
in body enhancing armour, but his hairy face and beefy frame hadn't mad it
difficult to imaging what he looked like in the buff. Back on his bed,
Faramir smiled to himself as his cock became rock solid at the sight he was
witnessing on his closed eyelids. The beefy soldier had one of the younger
men bent over a table in front of Faramir, and he was pounding his monster
in and out of the young man's tight hole, every muscle in both their bodies
tensed and their skin flushed, while the third man stroked his meat on the
sidelines, all three of them gazing at Faramir while in the throws of
pleasure. Faramir gazed at the big man on top, his blue eyes wide open, his
tongue between his teeth as he fucked arse. Faramir watched as the red flush
in his face rose and rose, the blue eyes turning green, the short dark hair
turning long, the thick body slimming out into the leaner yet more defined
body of his brother, a look of almost manic arousal in his eyes as he fucked
the young guard, his eyes ever on Faramir, his mouth stretched in a silent
moan...
Faramir's eyes shot open, as the cum flowed through him, stealing his breath
and voice, erupting from the end of his cock like a creamy fountain, arcing
up almost two feet in the air and landing with a slap on his face. Another
huge blast of his own white spunk burst and hit him in the eye, further
soaking his face and hair. Over and over again, in all, seven large wads of
cum hit Faramir hard in the face, the eighth on his chest, and the last five
staining his red tunic dark and wet. Faramir laid his head back on the soft
feather pillows of his bed and said, in a croaky voice, he groaned
"Oh yes, Boromir..."

Boromir's eyes widened, and his cock swelled painfully. He had witnessed all
of his brother's jerkoff session, meaning to come in and talk to him, but
instead finding his younger brother lying on his back, his underpants and
trousers round his knees, his long, thick cock in hand and his eyes closed
tight, clearly having a fantastic daydream. Several time, he thought he
heard incomprehensible phrases come out of Faramir's mouth, along with
occasional oaths and groans. Boromir watched, entranced as his 'little'
brother's huge cock lengthened further to almost nine inches, bigger than
his own solid shaft under his tunic, which he was now stroking
unconsciously.
Boromir watched, as Faramir's handsome face grew steadily redder as he
rapidly neared orgasm. Then he heard his brother's breathing quicken and get
shorter, and saw 13 or 14 long, thick ropes of cum fly through the air and
land all over his brother's face and body. Then, as Faramir relaxed back
into the bed, Boromir distinctly heard him groan: "Oh yes, Boromir..." and
then seem to drift off to sleep.

The real Boromir stood at the door, his mouth open in surprise and his own
cum dribbling down his leg and over his large boots as he shot his load
inside his trousers at these words. Then a slow, cocky grin spread across
his burly face. His own brother fancied him! Well, that would make things a
whole lot easier.

Less than ten minutes later, Boromir walked into the garrison on Minas
Tirith's fifth level, looked around, and saw who he was looking for. He
walked up to the table where the middle-aged sergeant of the garrison sat
surrounded by several other guards of varying age. The sergeant was an old
friend of Boromir's and he stood with a smile as he approached.

"Well, it's been a while master Boromir," he said with a grin, as they shook
hands.

"I always know where to go if I need a favour!" Boromir replied, returning
the grin.

"Is that so?" the sergeant asked, sitting down again and looking curious
"What can I do for you then?"

"It's my brother, Faramir," Boromir lowered his voice, his grin spreading
further "I need to arrange a little party..."

To be continued...

Yeah, I thought I'd be evil and split this chapter into two parts, just to
keep up the suspense factor! I promise that the next part won't be long in
the making, and will be posted soon!
JC