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    Summary

    Idril's cheeks are flushed a beautiful blotchy pink, and sweat sticks strands of golden hair to her face and neck, and oh, what Glorfindel wouldn't give to have this each and every day. Would that she could commission a painting of this very moment to hang over the mantel in her bedchamber, so that it might be the last thing she sees before sleep and the first thing she knows upon waking: her Idril, legs spread and breasts heaving, open and wanting and lost entirely in her pleasure.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    948
    Chapters:
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    Collections:
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    Comments:
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    Kudos:
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