Sounds like a great idea

Once your mother has left the basement, and with some difficultly, you manage to eventually pry yourself away from Sevens ass.

Turning to Arwen, you then use the neural implant you’ve had installed to mentally disable her stasis pedestal.

You see her eyes gently flicker after a moment, and she parts her thick pillowy lips to take a deep comfortable breath, at this point entirely accustomed to the sensation of stasis.

She looks around for a moment and soon finds your gaze, with even the slight turn of her head being a graceful, practiced movement.

You see the ends of her lips twitch up in a small smile as she looks at you, and her pleasant soft spoken voice holds affection in it as she asks “have you need of me, master James?”

The long sleeved, deep neckline, silvery blue elven dress she wears compliments her eyes and porcelain skin, contrasting with her deep black wavy hair.

As always she’s perfectly groomed and cleanly, her elven beauty unbreakable, untouched despite of the corrupt world she inhabits, and the **** you’ve put her through.

You close the small gap between the two of you, and her smile grows wider as you slide a hand under her hair, gently clasping one of her pointed ears between your fingers.

Tugging her towards you, Arwen obediently follows your lead as you pull her lips to meet yours.

Her mouth is as soft and warm as the first time you **** your tongue into it a few months ago. Unlike then, however, Arwen now tentatively returns your oral embrace, placing her hands flat against your shoulders in a reserved gesture, making no effort to push you away.

Pushing further towards her, the wet bulge of your throbbing member bumps into her belly, making her jump a bit in surprise, and you feel a nonverbal hum on her tongue.

After a long time making out with your elven ****, you pull away, a string of saliva connecting you falling to Arwens exposed upper chest.

Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and you see her suck her lower lip clean of the spittle that’s accumulated there.

The small moment of affection you both share is tainted as Arwen looks down, catching sight of your burning arousal, and the primary reason you’ve awoken her.

She steps back slightly, and draws in a deep steadying breath from her nose, catching whiff of your raw, unwashed odour and being betrayed by her heightened elven senses.

You see her throat muscles convulse, and her hand instinctively move nearer to her mouth as she stifles a gag.

Your Arwen was captured from her universe long before she had met Aragorn, or had ever spent any length of time around the race of Men, let alone a musky sex crazed teenager.

“I- it seems you do have need of me.” She tries to give you a weak smile, but it comes off as more of a grimace.

You stroke a finger down her cheek. Yes..” you start “but first i need you to wash me.”

You see her expression give way to subtle relief, and she quickly nods, turning to go up the stairs. “Of course, i will draw us a bath right away, my love.”

Hmm.

“Well…” you begin