A Lesson in Kissing by Lbilover

Beryllium Bolger concocted the scheme after she and her best friend, Campanula Took, received invitations to a garden party at Bag End. It was to be the first sizable party hosted by their cousin Frodo since he'd become the Master of the Hill some nine months earlier, and to say they were excited was an understatement. If there was one thing the Bagginses excelled at, it was generally agreed, it was throwing parties (even if the parties sometimes ended rather oddly).

With all the fevered discussion between the two girls about new party frocks and matching hair ribbons and cute boys who might be present, Frodo Baggins was not forgotten.

'You know, everyone says that Frodo doesn't like girls,' Beryl remarked thoughtfully. 'But if you ask me, he's simply shy. After all, he lived alone with mad cousin Bilbo for all those years, and he was a dedicated bachelor.' Her brown eyes gleamed. 'I bet if we got Frodo alone, we could teach him a thing or two, Cam. He's rather dishy, don't you agree?'

'Oh yes,' her friend said with some fervour. 'His eyes are absolutely dreamy - so big and so blue. I certainly wouldn't mind giving him a lesson in kissing.'

'Well, then let's do it. He'll be in and out of the smial seeing to the refreshments and such. We can follow him inside and trap him and have our way with him!' Beryl licked her plump lips as if already tasting Frodo Baggins's delectable mouth. 'We'll be doing him a favour, Cam. He must be dying to kiss someone!'

So it was decided, and when the big day arrived, Campanula and Beryllium kept a close and sly watch on their host, whilst sipping punch and munching on slices of the most scrumptious mushroom pie they'd ever tasted, as well as an assortment of equally scrumptious biscuits, fairy cakes, cream puffs and fruit tarts.

Frodo Baggins looked mighty scrumptious himself in dark blue velvet trousers, a white linen shirt with gathered sleeves and an upstanding collar, and an ice-blue silk waistcoat embroidered with silver thread that did wonders for his creamy complexion and those dreamy blue eyes. They couldn't wait to get him alone and discover if he tasted as good as he looked.

Their quarry proved frustratingly uncooperative, however, for never once did he disappear indoors. Instead he wandered here and there, chatting with his guests and pressing more food upon them, and as there seemed no lack of food on the three long tables that stood along one side of the garden, the girls began to worry that the party would end before they got their chance to initiate the shy and inexperienced Frodo into the osculatory arts. But then at last fortune finally smiled upon them.

'Hsst.' Cam nudged Beryl with her pointy elbow. 'Look, I think Frodo's going inside!'

Frodo Baggins was moving through the crowd in a determined sort of fashion, heading in the direction of the front door, which stood invitingly open. Sure enough, a few moments later he stepped onto the front porch and disappeared inside the smial. The girls exchanged excited glances, set down their plates and cups, and followed.

It was cool and quiet inside the smial; Cam and Beryl paused in the front hall, cocked their heads and listened. Not a sound could be heard save the animated chattering of the party-goers outside. Holding hands, they edged their way from the foyer into the hallway, feeling, in truth, rather deliciously naughty. There were arched doorways at intervals on either side and they moved stealthily past first the parlour on the left and the drawing room on the right, but both rooms were empty, as were the dining room and the kitchen.

Where in Middle-earth could Frodo be?

Suddenly Beryl stopped and set a cautionary forefinger to her lips. From behind a closed door a few feet ahead on the right came a muffled sound.

'He must be in there,' whispered Beryl, and Cam nodded.

Hearts beating fast, they crept right up to the door, and Beryl, always the bolder of the two, set her ear against the smooth panelled wood and listened. 'It's Frodo all right. I heard his voice. Come on.' She set her hand on the brass knob and turned it.

But Cam, who was not quite so brave, hung back. 'What if he's not alone?'

'Who would he be with? Everyone else is outside except for us. He's probably talking to himself. Bachelors who live alone do that, you know.' Beryl slowly pushed the door; it swung silently inward on well-oiled hinges. She gave Cam an impish grin. 'Ready or not, Frodo Baggins, here we come.'

They stepped into a dimly lit narrow pantry lined on either side with wooden shelves stocked with jars of preserves and pickled vegetables, and canisters of flour, salt, tea and sugar. Of Frodo there was no sign, but at the end of the pantry was another door that must lead to a storage room dug deeper into the hill. It stood ajar and they could see the steady yellow glow of lantern light beyond it. Biting their lips hard and avoiding each other's eyes lest the hysterical nervous giggles welling up inside them escape and give their presence away, they tiptoed up to the door.

And received a shock, for a deep soft voice, not Frodo's voice, said, 'There are six more bottles of the '94. I'll bring them out. You'd best be getting back to your guests, Frodo. They'll be missing you.'

'Not just yet, Sam,' Frodo replied. 'Don't I deserve some reward for inviting all my relations to Bag End to bore me silly?'

'Now Frodo, it can't be that bad.'

'You have no idea.'

'Well, it will all be over in a few hours, won't it.'

'Nevertheless a little something to tide us over until we have Bag End to ourselves again won't go amiss, my love.'

My love? Beryl and Cam stared at each other, eyes wide and mouths forming perfect 'O's as if they were practicing their pucker-up techniques. Then, as if compelled by some force beyond their will, the girls cautiously poked their heads around the door... and received another, much, much greater shock.

Frodo Baggins had Samwise Gamgee pushed up against the white-washed plaster wall in between two wooden wine-racks filled with dusty bottles. His hands were twisted into Sam's chestnut curls, holding him ruthlessly in place, and he was kissing, no, he was devouring him!

Beryl and Cam didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe. The thought of leaving never even crossed their minds. They watched with the most avid fascination as Frodo Baggins passionately snogged his servant.

It was stunningly apparent that, far from shy or inexperienced, Frodo knew precisely what he was doing and that Sam Gamgee, far from objecting, was enjoying it very much indeed. His eyes were closed, a hectic flush suffused his cheeks, and he was moaning, low and guttural, against Frodo's expertly moving lips.

But matters didn't end there.

Their fascinated eyes followed Sam's hands, that had been resting at Frodo's waist, as they dropped lower, and became riveted to Frodo's dark blue velvet covered behind, which Sam took in a firm grip and started vigorously kneading, as if it were pastry dough.

Frodo raised his head, his chest visibly heaving. 'Sam,' he said, sounding almost pained, 'oh Sam...' Then he resumed their kiss, only now he shifted his body so that one slender but muscular thigh was inserted between Sam's legs, and though the girls couldn't see exactly what he was doing, as Frodo's back was partially to them, whatever it was must have felt awfully good, for Sam's moans immediately doubled in intensity and the pace of his kneading accelerated.

The pantry was now stifling, the air close and thick as honey; perspiration popped out on Beryl and Cam's foreheads and their cheeks flamed and they started tingling in unmentionable places. Though neither would have admitted it under pain of death, the sight of two male hobbits kissing and caressing was titillating beyond belief. They had never dreamed such a thing were possible!

'Frodo,' Sam suddenly gasped, tearing his mouth away. 'We'd best stop now or there'll be no stopping, and if someone comes looking for you, they'll get an eyeful, and no mistake.'

Frodo stood absolutely rigid for a moment, as though fighting for control, and then he relaxed and let out a profound sigh. 'I expect you're right. Well, we'll just have to continue this later, after everyone's left.' He leaned in and kissed Sam one final time, and stepped back a pace. His hands moved to his trousers' front and pulled at the velvet fabric, adjusting it around a prominent, unmistakable bulge that matched a corresponding prominent, unmistakable bulge in Samwise Gamgee's trousers' front.

Beryl and Cam's eyes went round as saucers. So it was true then, what some of the other girls had told them, that a male hobbit's parts could actually grow. The sight left them feeling decidedly queer - feverish, even.

'I'll bring out that wine in a few minutes, Frodo, soon's I've got everything under control, so to speak.'

Frodo giggled - giggled - and said, 'My randy Samwise. Oh, how I hate to leave you.' Then to the girls' utter stupefaction, he reached out and squeezed it. Hard. Sam let out a heartfelt groan and his head fell back against the wall with an audible thud. Frodo giggled again and released it. 'But, alas, I fear I must leave you. Duty calls, my love.'

He backed away and with a thrill of horror, Beryl and Cam realised he was about to turn around! In the nick of time, they jerked their heads back out of sight, and then they bolted like a pair of rabbits that had just spotted a stoat.

They didn't even bother to close the pantry door, too petrified at the thought of Frodo catching them spying to take the time, but gathering their skirts up to their knees to aid their flight, sped down the hall, out the front door onto the porch and didn't stop until they were at the far end of the garden, concealed behind a large patch of blue aconite.

With the greatest difficulty, Beryl and Cam composed themselves, smoothing out their skirts and patting their disheveled curls back into place. They were very careful not to look at each other, lest they expire from embarrassment, not only from what they had witnessed Frodo Baggins and his servant doing, but because of the undeniably exciting effect it had had upon them.

'How about a glass of punch?' Beryl said a few minutes later. 'I'm, um, a trifle overheated - the sun, you know.'

'Why, so am I, now that you mention it,' agreed Cam carefully. 'The sun is most awfully hot.'

They drank four glasses of punch each in quick succession before they felt sufficiently cooled down.


Frodo could have sworn that he shut the pantry door after him when he and Sam went to check for the wine, but it stood wide open. He only shrugged at the minor mystery, however, and decided he'd been mistaken. He made his way to the front hall and loitered there a few minutes, until he was certain that no tell-tale sign of what he and Sam had been up to was in evidence. Only then did he return, reluctantly, to the garden.

As he made his way to the punch-bowl for some badly needed refreshment, he encountered his cousins Beryllium Bolger and Campanula Took. To his surprise, the instant they set eyes on him, both girls blushed the deepest crimson and immediately turned round and scurried away. He watched them go with a puzzled frown, and thought it a pity that two such pretty girls should be so shy.

But then, what did he know about girls? His interests lay in a very different direction, and as long as Sam Gamgee wasn't shy (and he wasn't, far from it), Frodo was content.

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