ext_21839 (
saklani2.livejournal.com) wrote in
fellowshippers2004-11-18 01:57 am
NEW: Hat Trick (Sean Bean/Ian M/hat)
Hi all!
I am way behind on this series for poor [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] so here is the second story. This one is dedicated to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] for her love of the pointy hat of Gandalf!!
HEE HEE HEE
Please try out this story. Don't be afraid! ;)
Saklani
Title: Hat Trick
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com)
Codes: Sean B./Ian M.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these men, or anything else I mention here. I am not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And I am NOT them nor is what I put down here real. Thank you.
Summary: Ian and Sean play with that delightfully pointy hat of Gandalf’s.
Author's Notes: A pointy hat tale for my weird pairings series. What could be more perfect? *watches everyone run screaming* Well, I thought it was funny!
Dedicated to: Kinsy for her effervescent love of pointy hat
After _another_ excruciating day shooting the counsel of Rivendell scene, Sean Bean, feeling rather punchy, trailed after Ian toward their trailers. He thought the older man must be feeling a bit out of it, too, from the way he was wildly swinging Gandalf’s pointy hat. “Careful there,” he called, “or you’ll put someone’s eye out.”
Ian stopped and waited for Sean to catch up with a rather naughty expression on his face. “My dear, that’s the least of this hat’s talents.”
Something in the way he said it made Sean’s mouth go dry. “Wha- what do you mean?”
Tapping the very tip of the hart, Ian said, “Well, I have it on very good authority that Gandalf used to play a lot of interesting games with this hat.”
Sean focused his attention on the hat, narrowing his eyes a little. The battered, gray hat did not seem out of the ordinary for him. Trying to imagine what tricks it might be capable of, Sean finally shook his tired head in frustration. “What kind of games?”
Working hard not to grin too evilly, Ian said, “They’re better shown then explained. Perhaps if you accompany me to dinner and then my home after we change, I might be able to show you.”
And some part of Sean knew he was getting himself into trouble, knew he was just asking for something he might not be ready for, but he still said, “All right, if I can keep awake.”
“Oh, I don’t think there will be any trouble about that.”
**********
Dinner at a neighborhood Italian, where the food was good and the Guinness flowed, dissolved the rest of Sean’s reserves. By the time they arrived at Ian’s house, he was very curious to learn the secrets of the hat. So curious that stripping down to his boxers did not seem like a bad idea at all.
Sitting on the edge of Ian’s bed, Sean watched him apply something wet and slippery to the very end of the hat- his tongue. Under normal circumstances, tonguing an old hat would seem perverted and a trifle scary, but right now, it felt like the hottest thing Sean ever saw. So, when Ian offered the end to him, he happily wrapped his mouth around it and sucked.
The taste of dirt, sweat and flannel never before resembled manna from heaven, but right then, Sean thought it only a shade below Guinness. Nothing rivaled that after all.
“That ought to be enough,” Ian said, carefully taking the hat away from Sean.
He resisted a grumble of protest and asked instead, “Enough for what?”
“Why, hat trick number three, of course,” Ian said with a wicked smile. “All I need you to do is remove your boxers and turn over.”
Suspicion darkened Sean’s brow, but he rolled on to his stomach after kicking off his last garment. He gazed over his shoulder at Ian with confused eyes. “What now?”
“The hat takes over, of course.” Ian sat astride his thighs, still fully clad, and gently parted Sean’s cheeks. Maneuvering carefully, he slipped the hat between them.
Eyes getting bigger, Sean watched the hat disappear into him. He arched slightly when it breached his muscle, though there was no pain. It was... fuzzy, tickling him in an intimate and rather erotic manner. He squirmed and bucked a little at the feeling, causing more of the hat to enter him.
“Steady,” Ian whispered in a voice full of awed lust.
//Steady? Fuck that and the horse it rode in on,// Sean thought. He pushed back against the slathered hat, until it became too thick for his body. “Move it, godfuckingdammit,” he cursed through his gritted teeth.
Despite all his years and experience, Ian nearly swooned at the utter sexiness of Sean ordering him to fuck him with Gandalf’s hat. Hands trembling slightly (from blood loss as it all went South for the duration), he lifted the hat up and down in Sean’s body. Nothing but the fastest, deepest strokes satisfied the man, so Ian’s arms soon ached from manipulating the hat.
Grunting and growling and making an utter wild animal out of himself, Sean worked with the thousands of miniscule hairs, like tiny fingers, that set every nerve aglow with need and want. He forgot everything else- his neglected erection, Ian’s weight on his legs, the ache in his own back. All that existed was that magical, long, pointed hat!
“HAT!” Sean yelled and orgasmed, making a mess of himself and the bed.
Above him, Ian cried out his own climax and then slumped over, exhausted from the entire ordeal.
The hat, now free of the tight confines of Sean, drifted on to the bed and lay on its side. If a hat can have an expression, this one looked quite pleased with itself. Unlike the deflated men, it retained its perky, pointy tip quite nicely.
“Bloody hell,” Sean groaned finally. “No wonder Gandalf was so powerful.”
Ian chuckled into the sheets. “His best kept secret. By himself, Gandalf the Gray wasn’t really all that powerful. He got his reputation from hat tricks.”
I am way behind on this series for poor [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] so here is the second story. This one is dedicated to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] for her love of the pointy hat of Gandalf!!
HEE HEE HEE
Please try out this story. Don't be afraid! ;)
Saklani
Title: Hat Trick
Author: Saklani (saklani@wildmail.com)
Codes: Sean B./Ian M.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these men, or anything else I mention here. I am not looking to make money from this... God forbid. And I am NOT them nor is what I put down here real. Thank you.
Summary: Ian and Sean play with that delightfully pointy hat of Gandalf’s.
Author's Notes: A pointy hat tale for my weird pairings series. What could be more perfect? *watches everyone run screaming* Well, I thought it was funny!
Dedicated to: Kinsy for her effervescent love of pointy hat
After _another_ excruciating day shooting the counsel of Rivendell scene, Sean Bean, feeling rather punchy, trailed after Ian toward their trailers. He thought the older man must be feeling a bit out of it, too, from the way he was wildly swinging Gandalf’s pointy hat. “Careful there,” he called, “or you’ll put someone’s eye out.”
Ian stopped and waited for Sean to catch up with a rather naughty expression on his face. “My dear, that’s the least of this hat’s talents.”
Something in the way he said it made Sean’s mouth go dry. “Wha- what do you mean?”
Tapping the very tip of the hart, Ian said, “Well, I have it on very good authority that Gandalf used to play a lot of interesting games with this hat.”
Sean focused his attention on the hat, narrowing his eyes a little. The battered, gray hat did not seem out of the ordinary for him. Trying to imagine what tricks it might be capable of, Sean finally shook his tired head in frustration. “What kind of games?”
Working hard not to grin too evilly, Ian said, “They’re better shown then explained. Perhaps if you accompany me to dinner and then my home after we change, I might be able to show you.”
And some part of Sean knew he was getting himself into trouble, knew he was just asking for something he might not be ready for, but he still said, “All right, if I can keep awake.”
“Oh, I don’t think there will be any trouble about that.”
**********
Dinner at a neighborhood Italian, where the food was good and the Guinness flowed, dissolved the rest of Sean’s reserves. By the time they arrived at Ian’s house, he was very curious to learn the secrets of the hat. So curious that stripping down to his boxers did not seem like a bad idea at all.
Sitting on the edge of Ian’s bed, Sean watched him apply something wet and slippery to the very end of the hat- his tongue. Under normal circumstances, tonguing an old hat would seem perverted and a trifle scary, but right now, it felt like the hottest thing Sean ever saw. So, when Ian offered the end to him, he happily wrapped his mouth around it and sucked.
The taste of dirt, sweat and flannel never before resembled manna from heaven, but right then, Sean thought it only a shade below Guinness. Nothing rivaled that after all.
“That ought to be enough,” Ian said, carefully taking the hat away from Sean.
He resisted a grumble of protest and asked instead, “Enough for what?”
“Why, hat trick number three, of course,” Ian said with a wicked smile. “All I need you to do is remove your boxers and turn over.”
Suspicion darkened Sean’s brow, but he rolled on to his stomach after kicking off his last garment. He gazed over his shoulder at Ian with confused eyes. “What now?”
“The hat takes over, of course.” Ian sat astride his thighs, still fully clad, and gently parted Sean’s cheeks. Maneuvering carefully, he slipped the hat between them.
Eyes getting bigger, Sean watched the hat disappear into him. He arched slightly when it breached his muscle, though there was no pain. It was... fuzzy, tickling him in an intimate and rather erotic manner. He squirmed and bucked a little at the feeling, causing more of the hat to enter him.
“Steady,” Ian whispered in a voice full of awed lust.
//Steady? Fuck that and the horse it rode in on,// Sean thought. He pushed back against the slathered hat, until it became too thick for his body. “Move it, godfuckingdammit,” he cursed through his gritted teeth.
Despite all his years and experience, Ian nearly swooned at the utter sexiness of Sean ordering him to fuck him with Gandalf’s hat. Hands trembling slightly (from blood loss as it all went South for the duration), he lifted the hat up and down in Sean’s body. Nothing but the fastest, deepest strokes satisfied the man, so Ian’s arms soon ached from manipulating the hat.
Grunting and growling and making an utter wild animal out of himself, Sean worked with the thousands of miniscule hairs, like tiny fingers, that set every nerve aglow with need and want. He forgot everything else- his neglected erection, Ian’s weight on his legs, the ache in his own back. All that existed was that magical, long, pointed hat!
“HAT!” Sean yelled and orgasmed, making a mess of himself and the bed.
Above him, Ian cried out his own climax and then slumped over, exhausted from the entire ordeal.
The hat, now free of the tight confines of Sean, drifted on to the bed and lay on its side. If a hat can have an expression, this one looked quite pleased with itself. Unlike the deflated men, it retained its perky, pointy tip quite nicely.
“Bloody hell,” Sean groaned finally. “No wonder Gandalf was so powerful.”
Ian chuckled into the sheets. “His best kept secret. By himself, Gandalf the Gray wasn’t really all that powerful. He got his reputation from hat tricks.”

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*“HAT!” Sean yelled and orgasmed, making a mess of himself and the bed.* hehe
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