After the blissfully erotic encounter with the Silmarils coming to life and pounding him in the butt, Fëanor wanted to share with his brothers. But the usually outspoken, brazen Fëanor found himself at a loss for words about such a powerful experience, so after several failed attempts where he clammed up, he decided to ask his second son, Maglor, to compose a song about it. Maglor was an adult now - a rather beautiful, tempting adult - and could handle such subject matter.
The day arrived when Fingolfin and Finarfin were visiting for the holidays, and Maglor offered to give them a private concert. He sat at his harp and played his new song, a sultry ballad about the seduction of the Silmarils.
Such was the magic of Maglor's voice and harpistry that when the song was over, suddenly a thick mist rolled in, glowing like the light of the Silmarils. When the mist faded, the light remained - standing before them was a being who looked like he was sculpted of light.
The most beautiful man any of them had lain eyes on, with long flowing hair that shifted color, piercing eyes...
...and a hard cock.
"Hey, buckaroos!" the light-man said.
"Who... who are you? What are you?" Fëanor asked, not sure if he should be aroused or afraid.
"I am Macalaurë's song brought to life - Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils. How would you all like a good, hard pounding?"
"Yee haw!" Fëanor yelled, and stripped his clothes off as quickly as he could.
Finarfin, Fingolfin and Maglor watched as Fëanor bent over and Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils gave it to him, hips smacking together, balls slapping balls, faster and faster until Fëanor was panting, making feral noises. It didn't take long for Fëanor to climax, shooting his seed all over his brothers and son.
Maglor went next - a chip off the old block. Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils sat and Maglor rode him like he was riding a wild bull, bouncing feverishly, moaning. When Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils began to play with Maglor's sensitive hard nipples, he too climaxed, right into Finarfin and Fingolfin's hungry mouths.
Finarfin and Fingolfin kissed, sharing Maglor's seed between them, and then Fingolfin lay on his back, and Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils propped Fingolfin's legs on his shoulders and pounded him good and hard. Finarfin took Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils from behind, commanding him to fuck Fingolfin as hard as he was being fucked. And Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils loved it, fucking Fingolfin harder and harder. When Fëanor knew Fingolfin was getting close, he dove in to suck Fingolfin's cock, and Fingolfin came in Fëanor's mouth, while Finarfin came in the butt of Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils.
Fëanor got on all fours again and Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils took him one last time, while Fingolfin, Finarfin and Maglor stroked each other's cocks, watching. It was a glorious mess of seed, and Fëanor was well and truly spent.
"Now that's what I call art," Fëanor said.
"As you know, your son is very talented," Fingolfin said, and gave Maglor a kiss.
With his work done, Pounded In The Butt By The Silmarils faded. Just before he could completely disappear, Fëanor called out, "Wait! Will we ever see you again?"
"We can make this an annual holiday tradition. Till next time, buckarooooooooooooooooooooooooooos!"
It was much more worth celebrating than the deeds of the Valar, Fëanor thought to himself as he curled up with his three lovers, content.