A Habit and a Hobbit

by Nefertiti

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Gandalf/Merry

Summary: An overheard conversation leads Gandalf to even more pleasure than he had hoped for.

Author's note: Book-verse, set in early May of 3019, just after Aragorn's coronation.

Disclaimer: No rights, in income

Many thanks to Elanor for betaing this and to Sarah for her encouragement.

"I really need some pipeweed!" Gandalf thought as he rode Shadowfax over the Pelennor. It had been so long since he had tasted smoke. His pipe and supply of weed had been destroyed in the fiery battle with the Balrog. Even so, he now had a pipe, brand-new, ready and waiting. Although the Elves of Lothlórien found Mithrandir's indulgence in this strange practice amusing, they had at his request carved a beautiful new pipe for him during the week he spent there recovering after his return as the White Istar. He had been carrying it all this time.

He had acquired the habit of smoking hundreds of years before, during his early visits to the Shire, and he had seldom gone very long without a supply of the weed. True, there were times when he could not visit the Hobbits for years on end, but he had early on learned how difficult it was to abstain from smoking for any long period. Whenever he could get to the Shire, or even just to Bree, he made sure to take away a goodly supply. He had built up stashes of it in Rivendell and Lothlórien, so that he could always fill his pouch during his travels. Fortunately many of the Dwarves had also taken up smoking, since they traveled regularly between Erebor in the east and the Blue Mountains in the west. In doing so, they passed through the Shire, and they imported large quantities of pipeweed. Whenever the Wizard visited the Lonely Mountain, he could be sure of replenishing his own supply.

Now his great tasks were over. The Ring had been destroyed, Frodo and Sam had been saved and honored upon the Field of Cormallen, and only two days earlier Aragorn had entered into Minas Tirith as its rightful ruler. Gandalf was now living with Gimli, Legolas, and the Hobbits in a fine house at the top of the City, near the palace. Their surroundings were luxurious, their food was superb, and the whole situation could scarcely be better-in most ways.

Recently, however, the longing to smoke had returned to Gandalf. In the weeks after the Ring's destruction, he had been absorbed in helping to heal the Ring-bearer and his faithful companion. He had also worked with Aragorn and the other leaders to organize mopping-up operations after the War. Moreover, frequent messages were arriving, telling of battles fought far to the north, with the Elves, Men, and Dwarves successfully defending their lands against the forces of darkness. Taken all in all, there was little time to think more than fleetingly about smoking.

On one occasion, he had noticed Aragorn puffing on his pipe in the camp in Ithilien, but it had not affected him much. Only a day after the Fellowship had moved into their present dwelling, however, the Hobbits indulged in the same habit in the evening by the fireplace. At that point a strong desire to resume using pipeweed had struck the Wizard. He had hoped to get a quiet moment to ask one of them for some weed, but in the excitement of settling into their new home, the conversation and laughter had been so lively that he did not get a chance. Now, riding Shadowfax on a leisurely tour of the former battlefield to observe the repairs being made there and to enjoy the mild spring weather, he wished ruefully that the farmers of Gondor had picked up the art of growing pipeweed-but alas, there was none to be bought for hundreds of miles around.

Gandalf cut short his inspection and returned to the house. When he entered the formal garden, the first sight that met his eye was Gimli seated on a bench and puffing away contentedly on his pipe. The Dwarf greeted him cheerfully, "Have you enjoyed your ride, Gandalf?"

"Yes, in a way. Yet during it I could think of little but my sudden desire to resume smoking. You and Aragorn and the Hobbits have managed to maintain that habit yourselves, despite all the traveling and battles and so on. I know that Merry and Pippin found a bit of pipeweed at Isengard. I recall that they were smoking when we arrived, and Merry even started to lecture Theoden King on the subject. Later Aragorn mentioned to me that Saruman had gone so far as to import Longbottom Leaf from the Southfarthing. But was that supply so large as to last this long? That was nearly two months ago now."

"Well, it wasn't just a little bag, you know, but two small barrels of weed. They gave Aragorn and me enough to last for quite some time, and somehow Merry contrived to have the barrels sent from Edoras to Minas Tirith. He gave both Aragorn and me a smaller supply when he arrived in Ithilien. Still, as you say, with six of us using the weed for two months now, I would imagine that the stock must be dwindling considerably. I must make sure to ask Merry or Pippin about that, for I have very little left myself."

At that precise moment, Meriadoc Brandybuck happened to come into the garden. He was short enough that the thick hedges, cut to suit the height of an ordinary Man, hid him completely from the sight of the other two. He was headed for the front door of the house but paused at the sound of voices, just in time to hear Gandalf say, "I must get hold of one of the Hobbits. It has been so long since I have had any, and I'm sure you know how one misses that sort of pleasure."

Merry's mouth dropped open slightly, and his eyes widened. Could he possibly be hearing what he thought he was? Since Hobbits can move with utter silence, he crept a little closer.

Gimli chuckled, drawing deeply on his pipe before responding, "Yes, it's a pleasure for which there most definitely is no substitute."

Gandalf shook his head and said, a little ruefully, "I am a little ashamed to admit that when I started visiting the Shire, I quickly became very keen on the one thing that only Hobbits can supply. They really are the most inventive little fellows."

Gimli shrugged. "Well, you'll have to convince Merry or Pippin. They may be reluctant, but if you persist, I suspect that one of them will satisfy your craving."

Merry's mouth dropped even further open. It had never occurred to him that Gandalf needed sex at all. To hear him discussing his desires so indiscreetly and specifically with another member of the Fellowship was quite shocking. And why should Gimli be so confident that he or Pippin would be willing to assuage the Wizard's lust? The Hobbit pressed his lips together and silently exhaled a long sigh of annoyance and indignation through his nose. He snuck out of the garden and headed for the house, going to his room immediately and throwing himself onto the bed to ponder this strange development.

Should he warn Pippin that Gandalf seemed determined to seduce one or the other of them? He had noticed that his cousin seemed somewhat hero-worshipping when it came to the Wizard. He decided that he really should say something to the naive fellow.

Gandalf fiddled with his unused pipe as he paced slowly about his room, twirling it in his fingers and tapping it on his open palm. Now that he was alone, he was considering whether he should indeed approach Pippin-or more likely Merry, since as the more responsible of the two, he would probably be in charge of whatever pipeweed remained. On the one hand, the pair had shared their supply with Gimli and Aragorn, so they would presumably be willing to do the same with him. On the other, that had all happened some time ago. Now, according to the Dwarf, that supply might well be nearly exhausted. He didn't want to take the last of the weed away from the young Hobbits. They, after all, had been instrumental in the defeat of Saruman, and that had led to their discovery of the traitorous Istar's hidden stash. They deserved to enjoy it. If Gandalf were to ask, they might secretly not wish to share. Still, they would probably feel obligated to give him their last weed. They might even be a little intimidated by him and do so for that reason. True, during the Quest the younger Hobbits seemed to have become less timid and deferential toward him, but still . . . Despite his need, he hated the idea of pressuring them in any way about such a scarce and precious commodity.

Finally he decided to refrain from asking until he could get a better sense of how much of the pipeweed remained. With a sigh, he slipped the pipe into the drawer of his bedside table and tried-in vain-to forget it for the time being.

"What!? Merry, you must be joking," Pippin said with a laugh. "I've never seen any sign of such a thing. Just before the battle, I spent four days and nights sharing a room with Gandalf. If he wanted to seduce me, why didn't he try then?" He stared into space for a moment and a little smile crept over his face. "In fact, I'm not sure that I would have minded if he had." He waggled his eyebrows at his cousin.

Merry frowned at him, wondering just what had got into his cousin. He shrugged. "Maybe then he was just too worried about the War and the Quest to think about such things. Now all the dangers are past, and he has had long enough for his desire to really build up. Anyway, he seems to think that Hobbits have some special talent in bed-and he's very keen on it. Well, it's up to you what you do about it if he tries anything with you. I just thought I'd warn you. Believe me, I'm going to be very much on my guard when I'm around him."

Merry wandered back to his own room. He had been happy to move into the lovely big house, and the meals and pleasant companionship of the first days had been wonderful. But now this strange new worry had arisen. He realized that he had got over some of his awe of Gandalf, seeing him more as a friend than as a leader of the struggle against Sauron. Still, some of that awe persisted. He just could not imagine the Wizard participating in sex-let alone making love with Hobbits. Yet what Pippin had said made Merry begin to wonder why his cousin might want to go to bed with Gandalf. It was so very odd! What would it be like to make love with an old fellow like that?

No, he just couldn't imagine it. He decided to distract himself by smoking, and he pulled out his pipe and filled it, noting that his pouch was getting quite low. He would have to remember tomorrow to fill it from the remaining barrel of Longbottom leaf that he had stored in the cool, dry cellar of the house.

That night at dinner, Merry participated in the conversation somewhat less than usual. He found himself shooting covert glances at the Wizard from time to time, watching for any sign that Gandalf was trying to become more intimate with either Pippin or him. That vigilance inevitably made him try again to picture what it would be like to be in bed with the Wizard. He watched the graceful, expressive hands as Gandalf talked and stared at the thin, mobile lips, shifting from laughter to earnest concentration to quiet amusement. He imagined those hands and lips-and the immense beard-moving over his body. The whole idea seemed slightly less upsetting than it had at first. True, he was still miffed that the Wizard had expressed his lust so openly to Gimli-but he could not believe that Gandalf could be duplicitous or exploitative in taking anyone, Hobbit or no, as a lover. The Wizard was too kind for that, surely. Gandalf would probably make a considerate lover-and a skillful one, given his great age. Not that Merry wanted to sleep with the Wizard himself, of course, but someone else who did would surely have no cause to regret it.

After dinner the group gathered in their main room, lighting a fire as usual, for it was not yet quite mid-spring. So high up in the city, against the snow-capped mountains, the evening was crisp enough that a cheery blaze was welcome.

Merry settled himself in a low chair to the right of the fireplace. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Gandalf came in and sat in a larger chair on the opposite side. More than ever he was wondering what it would be like to kiss a Man with that large a beard-and even speculating about what the Wizard looked like under his clothes. He studiously avoided looking directly at Gandalf. He turned as Pippin came in, whistling cheerfully, and pulled another of the small chairs right up beside the Wizard's larger one. Merry suppressed a snort of exasperation. True, Pip was an adult-just barely-but Merry wondered if his impetuous cousin had really thought about what he seemed to be about to do.

The Wizard acknowledged Pippin's arrival with a friendly nod. After a moment's thought, he decided that the Hobbit's proximity might enable him to discreetly inquire about the size of the pipeweed supply. He had noticed that the young fellow was still following him about like a puppy, as he had been doing ever since the palantir episode, and he felt a bit amused. Still, it would make it easier to get the information that he wanted. He turned to Pippin and found that the Hobbit was staring up at him with a strange grin. Gandalf stared back in puzzlement for a moment, and then it occurred to him that Pippin might be flirting with him. Nonsense, that was absurd! Surely not. Yet . . . it certainly seemed as if that's what the little fellow was doing. Indeed, Pippin immediately winked at the Wizard with a very mischievous smile indeed. Gandalf looked away into the fire, realizing that the idea was not at all unappealing. It had been a long time since he had lain with anyone.

Just then, though, Merry turned and noticed Pippin's giddy, enticing look. He debated briefly with himself whether he should interfere and finally thought that it would be best if he made one more attempt to make his cousin behave sensibly. He picked up his chair and crossed to put it down and sit directly by Pippin's, on the side opposite to Gandalf. He gave Pip a little dig in the ribs with his elbow and glanced reproachfully up at the Wizard.

Oh, dear, Gandalf thought. Now Merry has noticed and is jealous. Fine! Now even if he does have a supply of pipeweed, he's less likely then ever to want to give me some.

Pippin turned to Merry and briefly made a little face at him, chuckling softly. Well, at least he has stopped flirting with Gandalf-for now, Merry thought as he shook his head. Indeed, Pippin bounced up again and went over to sit with Frodo and Sam, who had just come in. Covertly Merry peered at Gandalf out of the corner of his eye. The Wizard was looking rather guilty, and Merry certainly hoped that he would feel some shame over hoping to seduce his impressionable young cousin. What was so very special about Hobbits, he wondered. Why couldn't the Wizard go after a Man? The City was full of them.

Later that evening, Gandalf was deep in conversation with Legolas and seemed not to be paying any attention to Merry or Pippin or any of the Hobbits. Merry sighed. Perhaps he had been imagining things after all. He was surprised that the thought disappointed him. A bit flustered, he pulled out his pipe to distract himself from such ideas.

Laughing at one of Legolas' remarks, the Wizard turned and glanced around the room, thinking how happy and peaceful the scene was and how much it contrasted with the hardships and dangers that had confronted the Fellowship not too long ago. He froze as he saw Merry lighting up his pipe. For a moment the longing to smoke almost overwhelmed him, and he was sorely tempted to ask the Hobbit to give up some of the precious stuff even if the supply was virtually exhausted. The idea of making such a request in front of the others bothered him, however, for that would put additional pressure on Merry to give him the weed. Besides, he remembered sadly, his pipe was upstairs in the drawer by his bed. And even if he had had it with him, Merry's pouch looked virtually empty.

Merry puffed on his pipe, and his gaze again strayed to the Wizard. To his surprise and shock, Gandalf was staring at him, his lips slightly parted and a wistful look of intense longing on his face. The moment his eye met Merry's, however, the Wizard looked away quickly, and the Hobbit could have sworn that he was blushing slightly. He does want me, Merry thought delightedly-so delightedly, in fact, that he was astonished at himself. After all, he wasn't going to do anything about it . . . was he? His mind was abuzz with confusion. No, naturally it was just flattering to think that a great Wizard found him attractive enough to want to bed him. That's all . . . definitely all.

The next morning, Merry made his way down into the cellar and carefully removed the blanket that he had put over the remaining pipeweed barrel to protect it. He pried the top off and began to transfer large pinches of the fragrant leaves into his pouch. It was a good thing that the growers always packed the weed so carefully and tightly into the barrels, he reflected. Not only had it survived being immersed during the flooding of Isengard, but the supply also would last them for a long time. Fully half a barrel remained, he noted with pleasure.

It struck the Hobbit that he should check with Aragorn and Gimli if they needed to refill their pouches as well. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had given them a new supply. And Gandalf was a smoker as well. Maybe he should offer the Wizard some weed. Then it struck him that Gandalf must not have a pipe anymore. He would have lost his in the battle with the Balrog. Pipes were not used in these southern lands, and Pip had given the precious last spare one to Gimli at Isengard. No, no point in offering the Wizard any weed, then. A pity, he thought, but maybe as Gandalf the White, he wouldn't smoke anyway. On the other hand, he apparently still needed sex, so more likely he still would enjoy a pipeful of weed if he could get it. A pipe was really too personal a thing to share, though. Merry shrugged and closed the barrel carefully. He was an expert on pipeweed and knew exactly how it should best be stored.

Really, he thought as he went up the stairs and emerged into the hallway above, I should write a history of smoking. It wouldn't be as grand as the account of the War of the Ring that Frodo is preparing. Still, it's something that the Shire folk invented and do better than anyone else.

As Merry emerged from the cellar and moved along the hallway toward the front door, he met Gandalf. The Wizard stopped and said, "Merry, there was something I wanted to ask you . . ." He looked down at the floor and frowned.

Here it comes, Merry thought, glancing around and realizing that there was no one within earshot. He shifted uneasily, staring up at the Wizard, and asked cautiously, "Yes? To ask me?"

Gandalf looked up into his eyes and then quickly away again with an awkward little chuckle. "Oh, nothing, really. Nothing important." The Wizard moved abruptly away along the hallway, climbing the stairs and heading toward his bedroom.

Merry stared after him, completely undecided as to whether he felt relieved or disappointed. It was very odd that Gandalf should be so hesitant now after having discussed all this so blatantly with Gimli. The Hobbit had expected some sort of determined seduction attempt after that. Gandalf's hesitation and shame were unexpected-and quite charming and amusing, he thought. He found much of his old, friendly feeling toward the Wizard returning, replacing the suspicion and nervousness that had followed that overheard conversation in the garden. It was sad that Gandalf should be so sexually frustrated and yet not be brave enough to do anything about it. Maybe his talk with Gimli had just been putting on a bold front.

Thinking of sexual frustration, Merry reflected that it had been a long time since he had had any pleasure of that sort himself. He gazed up the stairway to where the Wizard had disappeared from sight.

The passage of time did nothing to diminish Gandalf's desire for pipeweed. When he lay awake late into the night and then dreamed of smoking once he did fall asleep, he finally came to a decision one morning. He would simply have to ask Merry for some weed-even just a little. If there was none left-well, maybe knowing that for certain would help him stop thinking so much about the whole subject.

The problem was, Merry had become very elusive lately. True, he was present at meals, as any healthy Hobbit would be. Gandalf even caught the little chap staring at him in an odd way a few times. Still jealous, I suppose, the Wizard thought, and he took care not to seem overly friendly with Pippin. Between meals, Merry simply disappeared, and by bedtime Gandalf was feeling more frustrated than ever.

To his surprise, when he went upstairs, he discovered the Hobbit loitering near his door. Excellent, Gandalf thought. This will finally give me a chance to broach the subject of the pipeweed in private. "Ah, Merry, I'm delighted to find you here! I had been trying to get a word with you alone."

Merry nodded and looked around, gesturing that they should go into Gandalf's room. The Wizard followed Merry inside and closed the door behind him, feeling a bit more hopeful. The Hobbit had quite a friendly expression on his face. Perhaps by now he was confident that Gandalf had no amorous designs on his cousin.

Merry nodded again, this time with a knowing smile. "Yes, I'm aware of it." He took a deep breath. "I'm . . . I'm willing to give you what you want."

Gandalf grinned in relief. "You know what I was going to ask for then?" Gimli must have mentioned the Wizard's dire situation to the little chap, it occurred to him. "Well, I am extremely grateful that you are so generous about it."

"Yes, I'm afraid I heard you talking about it, and I've thought it through, and, well, frankly, I could use a bit of the same thing myself." He stood looking expectantly up at Gandalf.

The Wizard's grin faded in his confusion. Was Merry trying to tell him that he would ordinarily be willing to share his pipeweed-but that right now he really didn't have enough to do so? "Oh?" he said uncertainly.

There was a brief pause as Merry thought, No wonder Gandalf hadn't had sex in so long. Ordinarily he's incredibly brave, and yet he's so timid about initiating that sort of activity. The Hobbit decided that if anything was going to happen, he would have to suggest it more blatantly. He smiled encouragingly at Gandalf. "Yes. So what I'm saying is, I'd be willing to share your bed tonight."

The Wizard blinked and stood staring at him in utter bafflement. Share his bed?! All thoughts of needing pipeweed vanished from his mind. True, his sexual frustration had also been building up, but he had not thought that that could be remedied within the Fellowship. Legolas and Gimli could barely keep their hands off each other, and it was apparent that Frodo and Sam had become more than friends and comrades during their journey to Mount Doom. The Wizard had just assumed that Pippin and Merry were also going at it like rabbits, and Merry's little display of jealousy the other night had seemed to confirm that assumption. Aragorn was fretting about whether and when he would be marrying Arwen. In short, the Wizard had found himself odd man out. He had begun to think of how he might go about finding nocturnal companionship elsewhere, but now . .. He struggled to imagine what could possibly have led to this intriguing situation.

Merry's smile faded at the look of utter surprise on the Wizard's face. Maybe Gandalf had already had Pippin and didn't want another Hobbit. Or maybe he himself had just somehow misunderstood the whole situation. He murmured, "Unless. . . you don't want to . . . and then I'll just, um, go."

Gandalf quickly shook his head. "It's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I find you an extremely attractive young fellow, and I must admit, it has been a very long time . . . But this is so sudden! You have never hinted at any such thing before. Are you sure that you want to-"

"Yes! I wouldn't have offered if I didn't. I'm not just doing you a favor, if that's what you suspect" He shrugged, and his smile returned. "I just think it would be fun to be in bed with you."

The pair stood looking at each other with little smiles. Now that it came down to it, Merry had no idea what to do next. Gandalf saw this and took his hand, leading him to the bed. The Wizard sat down on the edge of it, still holding the Hobbit's hand. His gaze wandered down Merry's body, and his cock began to swell distinctly. He forced himself to go slowly.

"Nervous?" he asked.

Merry nodded, his smile becoming a little sheepish, and his eyes sliding away from the Wizard's.

"Have you ever made love with one of the 'Big People,' as you Hobbits call us?"

Merry sighed. "No. Plenty of Hobbits, though," he added more confidently.

Gandalf looked down at the small hand still resting in his. "Well, don't worry. I've had a Hobbit or two in my time, so at least one of us will know what to do." He chuckled softly, turning Merry's hand palm upward and stroking it softly with his fingers. Merry placed his other hand on the Wizard's knee, pushing on it until his legs had parted far enough for the Hobbit to move between them. Gandalf's hands went to Merry's shoulders, pulling him closer. He paused, then stroked the Hobbit's hair.

Merry ran his fingers through the thick, long beard. "I've been wanting to do that," he remarked. "It's softer than I expected."

"Yes, it's not likely to scratch your tender skin," the Wizard replied. "In fact, I hope that it will feel quite pleasant." He lowered his head to brush his lips gently against the Hobbit's cheek, kissing repeatedly as he moved across it.

The familiar pleasure of a warm mouth on his skin sent the first tiny surge of arousal through the Hobbit. Any remaining nervousness vanished. His eyes slid shut, and he leaned slightly against Gandalf, slipping one arm around his waist and turning his head slightly to allow easier access. Soon the tip of the Wizard's tongue crept into this ear and tickled it, and when he moaned softly with delight, Gandalf began to nibble and kiss it more firmly.

Merry rubbed his slightly squirming body against the bed and the front of the Wizard's torso. He could feel a large-to him very large-bulge within Gandalf's trousers, pressing into his belly. As he leaned against it, the Wizard gasped into his ear, then fastened his open mouth onto Merry's neck, tonguing it avidly and pressing his trouser-front slightly against the Hobbit's firm torso. His large hand slipped down to cup Merry's buttocks firmly, pulling him against his own body. Gandalf fumbled for the hand that was buried in his beard and, sweeping the cascade of hair aside, guided the Hobbit's hand to rest over one nipple. Through the cloth, Merry's fingers could feel a slight nub, and he gently pinched it as he felt it rise and harden. The Wizard's hoarse groan made him continue, and he reached up with his other hand to seek and find the second nipple, treating it the same until Gandalf groaned again, far louder this time. He drew Merry's ear entirely into his mouth and thrust the tip of his tongue repeatedly into the small opening, beginning to unbutton the Hobbit's shirt as quickly as he could while continuing to squeeze his buttocks and pull them so that they could rub rhythmically against each other with growing need.

As soon as he had most of Merry's shirt-buttons undone, Gandalf pushed it suddenly down off his shoulders until the entire chest, with its small, perfect, pink nipples was bared. Panting, the Wizard pulled Merry up to lie beside him on the bed, reclining on his elbow to lean down and suck the tiny, hard beads eagerly, humming now with arousal. Merry squeaked and gasped as the pleasure raced from his chest to his throbbing organ. Clumsily he raised his legs onto the bed, his knees bent and his feet planted on the edge. He reached down with one hand past Gandalf's head to try and unfasten his own trouser laces. His hips were rocking slightly as he involuntarily thrust upwards.

Gandalf raised his head briefly to look at each of the puckered nubs in turn and murmured, "It has been a long time. You are so beautiful!" he added with a sigh and returned to sucking and licking at Merry's nipples.

By now Merry had managed to undo the knot of the laces and pull at them. Noticing this, Gandalf slowly ran his tongue down the Hobbit's belly in sinuous paths as Merry whimpered and writhed. The Wizard's hand slipped inside the loosened trouser-front, encountering the rigid member, now lying flat up against the lower belly, moist from the heat of its arousal within the confining clothing. He stroked it slowly and softly with just his fingertips, moving his tongue down further until Merry's bent legs fell open and he gasped out, "Please! Now, please!"

Gandalf's own breathing shuddered with his excitement, but he slid down along the Hobbit's body until he could pull the trousers just low enough to reveal the entire dark pink length of the shaft within, down to the firm little balls below. Clenching his teeth and swallowing hard to contain his own flaring desire, the Wizard struggled to concentrate for now on Merry. The Hobbit's hips were shifting in desperation, and his mouth was slack with utterly wanton abandon by now. Gandalf put his face down to the erection, inhaling deeply as the Hobbit's faintly musky scent rose, then tickling the testicle sac with his tongue. Merry jerked and writhed beneath him, and he began to whimper again, more loudly this time. One hand fumbled ineffectually at the Wizard's head, as if to move it toward his aching cock, and Gandalf took pity on him. He licked the shaft up and down a few times, then abruptly sucked the entire length into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it as his lips moved slightly up and down it.

At that Merry's erection soared faster than he had ever felt it do, and he soon stiffened and grimaced, toppling over into bliss and uttering a series of loud groans as Gandalf skillfully swallowed his seed and drew the bursts of pleasure out into a slowly diminishing series of little jolts that finally left the Hobbit weak and panting. After a few seconds he managed to open his eyes partway, and still breathing heavily, he grinned at Gandalf. The Wizard had taken advantage of the lull in the proceedings to unbutton his own shirt and spread it wide, and his erection was poking up out of his loosened trousers. As he waited for Merry to recover a little, he gently stroked the Hobbit's chest and belly, taking in gulps of air and slowly expelling them through his nose. His hips shifted on the bed as he strained to control himself.

Seeing this, Merry sat up and leaned against the Wizard's chest, lifting his face and letting Gandalf's tongue dart deep into his mouth in a hungry, demanding kiss. At last the Wizard broke this and propped the pillows up against the head of the bed, settling back into them in a semi-recumbent position. He bent his legs and spread them wide. Merry found his own low-slung trousers constricting his movements, and he pulled them off and tossed them over the foot of the bed. Now able to move more freely, he knelt between the Wizard's legs, pulling the trousers down and allowing the purple erection to jut upward toward him. He examined it nervously. "It's beautiful!" he said, tentatively sliding one hand up the side of the shaft, feeling the high veins and silky skin until he reached the top and felt the velvety crown and tiny slit with his fingers. "But I'm not sure-"

"Don't worry!" Gandalf said breathily. "It may be larger than you're used to-" He grunted as Merry suddenly ran his fingers down either side of the sensitive, prominent ridge on the underside. Panting, he resumed, "-but the same sorts of things feel good to me, I assure you."

He watched as Merry cautiously licked the tip and slid one hand under the balls to lift and roll them. Gandalf drew in a sudden hissing breath at the pleasure of it, and thus encouraged, the Hobbit began to lap eagerly at the shaft, moving around it as he held it steady with one hand gripping the base. If he had been nervous about not being able to please the Wizard, his doubts vanished as his tongue elicited increasingly loud, deep moans. He glanced up at intervals to gauge the effect of his caresses, each time finding the Wizard looking at him with partially hooded eyes, becoming more and more aroused and smiling slightly at him.

Merry continued to run the tip of his tongue along the veins and the ridge, harder each time, and with a hand stretched around either side of the erection, he squeezed and pulled the skin near the base up and down over the rigid flesh beneath. "Yes, oh, yes!" Gandalf muttered, and his eyes shut. Little flinches crossed the Wizard's face as his climax approached, and Merry moved his hands up a little to pump the whole shaft frantically as he lowered his open mouth over the end of the erection and sucked hard. "Now," Gandalf whispered just before his teeth clenched and his head lolled back. He uttered harsh groans, and Merry, warned just in time, took in the gushes of hot cream that filled the back of his mouth, swallowing hard and quickly. As they diminished and he licked the last few drops to emerge from the slit, he continued to suck, seeking to prolong Gandalf's pleasure as the Wizard had his. It seemed to work, for Gandalf's body only gradually stopped twitching and settled back into the cushions.

Merry crawled up to kneel beside his arm, and Gandalf opened his eyes and looked at him with a bleary smile. The Hobbit chuckled and pivoted to sit beside Gandalf, who slung his arm rather heavily over Merry's shoulder. They shifted until both were comfortable, with the Hobbit leaning blissfully against the side of Gandalf's chest.

Finally both were breathing normally again, and the immediate aftermath of bliss that had suffused their bodies was slowly fading to a general glow of contentment. Gandalf said lazily, "Now you know how to pleasure Big People. Not that you really had much to learn."

Merry grinned up at him. "Yes, and I was right. It is fun being in bed with you. More than fun, really. Wonderful!"

"Wonderful indeed," Gandalf replied, kissing his forehead. The Wizard inspected their torsos. "Well, we managed to accomplish all that without making much of a mess at all. Very impressive, my dear Hobbit! We're a bit, um, moist, though. Let me find something to wipe us off a little. Maybe later we shall feel energetic enough for a proper wash."

Gandalf leaned over and opened the drawer of his bedside table, searching among the clutter of objects for the handkerchief that he knew must be in there somewhere. Finally, after pulling out nearly the entire contents of the drawer, he found it. "At the very bottom, naturally," he muttered with amusement.

Merry, glorying in the delightful feeling of satiation in his body, decided that he had recovered enough for more vigorous movement. He sat up and was surprised to see a lovely little pipe on Gandalf's bedside table. He has one after all, he thought to himself. The Hobbit enjoyed a good smoke after sex, so he crawled down the length of the bed to where he had casually tossed his trousers. He fished out his own pipe and bulging pouch. Quickly he crawled back to the head of the bed, and settling down, held the open pouch under the Wizard's nose. "Gandalf, would you like some pipeweed?"

The end