Seducing Sam: His Bit of Muslin by Lbilover

Mistress Hairytoes had never encountered such profligacy in her life. The satins! The laces! The velvets! And all of them bought by Samwise Gamgee, who'd been cook for Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Why, Mistress Lobelia herself had never commissioned gowns half so fine or so costly.

As she cut and basted and sewed, the Hobbiton dressmaker sighed with delight to handle such gorgeous materials, which could only have been made by the Elves. Her purse was considerably plumper than it had ever been, too, which made her work all the more enjoyable.

But there was no doubting, she mused, that something queer was afoot. Sam Gamgee lived up at Bag End with Mr. Frodo, and such goings on took place (or so rumour told) as would make a respectable hobbit matron blush. So whyfore these gowns? She could only hope trouble weren't afoot and Sam, whom she'd taken a liking to, didn't have a bit of muslin on the side.

Still, it weren't no business of hers, and a dressmaker learned to hold her tongue or lose her custom. So Mistress Hairytoes kept her hands and her mind on her work, though she would have given a good deal to see the lucky lass dressed up in her finery.


'Oh Samwise! Oh beloved! You spoil me, I vow you do.' Frodo sat amidst a positive sea of jewel-bright satins and velvets, frothed with waves of creamy lace.

'There's naught too fine for you, Frodo,' said Sam, a worshipful light in his eyes.

'Don't you mean Mistress Lavender?' quizzed Frodo with a wicked gleam lighting his own eyes. 'Shall I try one on?'

'Please,' replied Sam so fervently that Frodo laughed in delight.

'Give me a few minutes, sweeting,' Frodo said, gathering up a low-cut gown of peacock blue silk, the skirt overlaid with spangled silver net and the bodice heavily embroidered with silver thread and crystals. Then, after a light peck on Sam's lips, he vanished from the room.

Anticipation had Sam hard and aching by the time Mistress Lavender appeared in the parlour doorway, her glossy ebon curls spilling over her naked shoulders and her kohled eyes flirting outrageously with Sam over the top of the painted chicken-skin fan she held.

She rustled into the room, a vision in blue and silver, but before she'd gone more than a few dainty steps, Sam pounced and seized her in his arms. With a swiftness to make her head spin, he had her back up against the wall, and started pushing up her skirts with one hand while he tore at his breeches buttons with the other. Then he took her fast and furious, her silk-stockinged legs over his broad shoulders and her knees right up by her ears.

'Gracious me, Samwise,' uttered Mistress Lavender faintly, when they'd slid to the floor and lay there in a panting heap. 'I shall have to try on my other new gowns as soon as may be if they have such a, ah, prodigious effect on you.'

Sam chuckled weakly. ''Twas coin well spent, and no mistake, though I reckon Mistress Hairytoes thinks I'm keepin' a bit of muslin on the side.'

'And so you are,' said Mistress Lavender. She twined a strand of long ebon hair around Sam's neck and drew him in for a sensual kiss. 'A very, very satisfied bit of muslin.'

Sam's hand went between her legs and got busy. 'But not satisfied enough yet, not by a long road,' he said, listening to her gasp. 'Ready for gown two?'