FIC: Pole Position (Chapter 14 - THE END)
Oct. 9th, 2006 08:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
obselizabeth.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vigorliTitle: Pole Position (Part 14 - THE END)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
obselizabeth
E-mail: obselizabeth@gmail.com
Live journal: www.livejournal.com/users/obselizabeth
Rating: NC-17
Type: RPS
Pairing: ViggOrli (and my own personal selection of other boys)
Warnings: it's slash, ladies :)
Disclaimer: wouldn't it be nice if we COULD see Orlando pole dancing?
Feedback: is the cream in my coffee
Summary: Viggo's a bored multi-gazillionaire...Orlando's a pole dancer
A/N: Finally! It's been a long journey for me. This is the longest fic I've ever written. Thanks so much to my dear friend,namarie120, for begging me offering to beta this
Beta: The glamorousnamarie120
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Slowly, as the needs presented themselves, Orlando's things were moved from his condo to Viggo's house…not that Orlando wanted for anything. After a month of hedonistic bliss, Viggo suggested they pack the few remaining belongings and put the condo up for sale.
"You mean…" Orlando started, still a bit hesitant to voice the future he'd hoped for with Viggo.
"Yes, you silly," Viggo muttered, his lips against the younger man's forehead. "I want you here…with me…forever…if you'll have me…"
Still flushed with their recent culmination of passion, Orlando’s lips, full and evident of being well-kissed, moved swiftly and accurately, cutting off anything further Viggo had to say. The older man chuckled beneath the welcome assault, then moaned in response to the overwhelming evidence of Orlando's resilient youth grinding against his leg.
"You're going to be the death of me," Viggo mumbled, cut off again as Orlando sucked his tongue into his mouth.
"Complaining, old man?" Orlando asked, finally parted only by the need for air.
"Never, my love," Viggo asserted. "And," he continued, realizing his temporary ownership of his own mouth, "I don't believe you've given me an answer…"
Orlando blinked…once, then twice. "What, exactly, was the question?"
Viggo seized the opportunity, expertly maneuvering the younger over in a flip, straddling him in a quick yet confusing move. "I want you. I need you…here, with me, forever." Viggo looked down at his lover. He'd grown accustomed to the beautiful, sable depths of his eyes darkening to espresso in response to his lust…the glorious haze that overtook his face…the beckoning scent that singularly called Viggo's own body to respond.
Viggo's position allowed the fullness of his ass to move along the younger man's erection, effectively trapping it between his meaty globes. Only adding to Orlando's frustration, Viggo allowed his hands to trail up the younger man's abdomen…his fingers burning a slow trail up the hairless flesh as he continued pistoning himself along the glowing, fleshy track of Orlando's cock.
"Fuck me, baby," Orlando begged, his eyes all but completely rolled up in his head.
"Much as I’d love to, I can’t," Viggo murmured, his fingertips reaching Orlando's nipples, pinching and tugging the sensitive buds. "You've all but worn me out," he continued, his hips continuing their movement, his mouth moving lower to claim one of the fleshy peaks. "But I am not too old to make you happy, my love," he said through his teeth.
Orlando squirmed helplessly beneath him, his body writing incoherently. "I doubt," Orlando sputtered…"that you could ever … do anything to … make me … unhappy." His words came in shudders…his body helpless in response to his lover's touch. "Gods, Viggo," Orlando begged. "Help me."
An evil, calculated grin spread across Viggo's face as he remained still. "Answer my question, and I will give you what you want," he taunted, punctuated by his fingers pinching hard against a swollen, distended teat.
Orlando, in confusion and complete forgetfulness of any question at this point, merely responded with the only answer he knew he'd give to anything Viggo asked of him. "Yessssssssssssssssssssssss…"
"That's the correct answer, my love," Viggo said, still in character. He moved swiftly, his mouth quickly engulfing Orlando stiff erection.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkk," Orlando responded, his senses completely overwhelmed.
Viggo reveled in the taste of his lover's arousal leaking from the swollen head of his penis. His tongue maneuvered around the tip, tracing along the engorged ridge of the head, following the path around and around until he felt the stiff flesh pulsating in response against his tongue. "I want you, all of you….my love," Viggo chanted, his words a mere humming whisper against Orlando's sensitive flesh.
"Vig…" The mono-syllabic mantra rolled off Orlando's tongue almost mindlessly. Orlando couldn't focus…the overwhelming feel of Viggo's tongue tracing along his area of greatest response almost too much to endure coherently. "Anything…" he murmured his candid acquiescence.
Viggo's lips slid down all the way, until they hit the base where Orlando's cock met his pelvis. His mouth tightened, clamping around the pedestal of rigid flesh…then pulling a slow path up toward the head.
"Jesus, baby," Orlando managed, his body vibrating violently under Viggo's ministrations.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Viggo purred, the vibrations from his voice buzzing along Orlando's erection.
Viggo knew his lover needed to come again, and knew he couldn't physically provide for him in any way other than his mouth at this point. Viggo realized, at his age, he'd be providing a great deal of satisfaction with his mouth…not that he was complaining.
He felt Orlando beginning to pump his hips erratically up against his lips. "Come for me…only me," Viggo urged, his lips tightening along his lover's shaft.
Orlando could barely recognize the words his lover spoke. His body responded to Viggo's touch, distracted from all coherent thought or coordinated reaction. All that came from him was a stream of unintelligible babble.
Viggo continued the suction of his mouth in a constant urgency against Orlando's turgid flesh. He continued until he felt the younger man pulsating within his mouth, the fluid shooting violently into the warm, awaiting cavern. His tongue lapped against the receding tissue, content on caressing the rapidly decreasing organ within his mouth. Orlando continued to nudge against his lover's lips, insistent on garnishing every bit of stimulation he could exact from the older man.
"You don't give up," Viggo asked, the question almost incoherent amidst the mass within his mouth.
Orlando, at the moment, was at a loss to respond. "Mmmmmmm," he murmured. "I can't help myself. You keep me hard all the time."
"Even a millionaire has errands to run, love," Viggo protested, somewhat-reluctantly pushing his lover onto the other side of the bed. Viggo didn't want to reveal his plan for later that evening; but tried, desperately, to convince Orlando to go with Karl to pack up the last of his belongings and meet back at the house that same night.
"I'll do it this weekend, master," Orlando taunted, his insatiable lips tracing a path down Viggo's chest, threatening the trail that led to his crotch.
"Lover, not master," Viggo said, his hands moving into the expanse of curls atop Orlando's head. Viggo was hard-pressed to push his lover away. "Orli, my love," he pleaded. "Please, trust me. I need…to take care of a few things…just meet me back here tonight. Karl will give you…'instructions'…" Viggo spoke cryptically, yet firmly.
Orlando looked at him, large pools of chocolate dissolving under the cerulean stare. The previous three weeks had blown by, the two of them sharing many physical longings…but not yet discovering each other's innermost needs. "I don't 'want' to leave you," the younger man murmured, his soft wet lips buzzing against Viggo's.
"Nnn….neeeeeee….ddd….you…" The sultry, English accent was hoarse with longing.
"Fuck," came Viggo's comment, barely sputtered as his mouth made its way against Orlando's tempting neck. "Just….um…..fuck."
"I know…" came Orlando's response, not much louder than Viggo's plea had been. It didn't take long before Orlando felt Viggo's fingers hunting…seeking out the puckered entrance that he sought. Lubrication, thankfully, came readily…as Orlando's cock wept abundantly in his arousal. Viggo was quick to swipe the slippery liquid on his fingertips…guiding the fluid back to his target. Forth and back, his fingers manipulated…until the hole was well lubricated. Viggo's finger expertly worked within the puckered entrance, joined by a second and a third finger…scissoring back and forth until Orlando begged for penetration.
"Mine," Viggo whispered, his cock nudging up against Orlando's entrance.
"Now," Orlando begged, his ass arching backward to urge the thick mass of flesh deep into his orifice.
Viggo thrust deep, his first drive penetrating Orlando in one thrust. "My God," he swore, the feeling overwhelming.
"Yessssssssssssssss," came Orlando's reply, almost incoherent. The younger man propelled himself backward against each of his lover's plunges. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"
Viggo had never felt anything like the constant, unquenchable arousal his young lover inspired in him. He plunged even deeper into the enveloping friction, desperate to give Orlando everything he begged for. "Ohhhhhmyyyyyyygggoooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddddddddddddddddddddd," he swore, not in control of the sounds coming from his mouth.
Orlando felt the rigid flesh drive deep into his needy canal. "Viggo," the younger man moaned, as he felt himself stretched.
Viggo complied instinctively with the unspoken plea, his mental capacity so diminished that every thought was consumed with the image of filling Orlando to the brink. "Shit, baby," he managed, his words garbled.
The penetration continued, urged on by primal lust. Viggo's thick cock delved deep inside of him, propelling down into Orlando’s awaiting, throbbing cavern. Orlando couldn't comprehend the overwhelming sensation that encompassed him. So he allowed himself to delve into the sensation, completely trusting of Viggo and the lust he inspired.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Sean," Viggo shouted, nervously.
"I'll be there in a fookin' minute," the blonde responded, nervously attempting to complete his tasks before attending to Viggo's needs. "Jaysus!"
Viggo chuckled, nudging his way through the assortment of naughty body-embellishments he'd found within the trunk in Orlando's dressing room. He’d only meant to find something 'appropriate' to wear, to entice his lover that evening. And Sean had allowed him access to the room, unknown to his lover.
Viggo made his way through the flimsy, almost humiliating outfits within the chest. Most of them were nothing more than slightly-colored cellophane. Soon, so very soon, this overwhelmingly sexy man would be his. But first, he needed to present an irresistible presence of his own.
He knew his attire had to be outlandish…something not expected as well as erotic. Wrapping the fuchsia boa around his neck, he was surprised by Sean entering the room.
"Shit," Viggo swore, realizing he wasn't alone.
"I dinna mean to spook ye," Sean affirmed, taking in the sight before him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Viggo's toes curled as he slid them into the shiny, black pumps. They were 'just' too short, but not painful. Apparently his feet were only slightly longer than Orlando's. Not a fact that meant anything. Just that the shoes wouldn't make it on Viggo's feet very long tonight. But he'd make them last long enough to be noticed.
"Shit," he swore, instigating a chuckle from Sean.
"I dinna say they'd be comfortable," Sean muttered, trying to conceal his amusement. "But ye did want to be 'jes like 'im'," he continued, even more delighted with Viggo's discomfort.
"Fine," Viggo sputtered, continuing his tortuous staggering around the room. "Now, what else?"
Sean moved to another trunk, off in one corner, and began to rummage through its contents. Several items were tossed over his shoulder, landing at Viggo's feet. Viggo would retrieve each garment…some he tossed, a few he kept for further inspection. Once Sean had completed his perusal of the trunk's stuffing, he turned to his friend. "Ready for your fashion show?" he asked, his voice excessively acerbic.
"You actually want to see me 'modeling' this shit?" Viggo asked, incredulously.
Sean couldn't hold back the laughter that bellowed up from his gut. "Ye don't fookin' think that ye can choose somethin' sexeh, do ye?"
Viggo's head hung a bit, suddenly and uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "I thought you were going to help me," he pleaded.
"Go, get yerself dressed," Sean urged, slapping his friend on the ass…not sure exactly what he'd expected.
It wasn't long before Viggo came out from behind the taut curtain, sporting a voluminous fuchsia boa. "Ok, you bad boy, here I come," he announced, trying to invoke any sort of sexual demon that might assist his cause.
Sean's jaw dropped as the vision of Viggo appeared before him. "Fookin' hell," he swore, his lower jaw refusing to make contact with its upper neighbor.
"Is that a 'good' or 'bad' response?" Viggo asked, unsure of the reaction he'd received.
"Holy fookin' shit, Vig," Sean mumbled, unable to say anything further at the moment. "Yer the freakin' epitome of any man's wet dream."
Viggo took that as a compliment, and grabbed a robe…unwilling to change clothes and possibly mar the illusion he'd created. Hopefully Karl had kept Orlando away long enough for him to slip home and into the scenario he'd carefully planned.
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"You're a gem to have helped me, love," Orlando noted, with characteristic politeness. Karl had helped him in record time to pack up the remainder of his belongings and pack them into the ample spaces within the limo.
"No worries," Karl assured him. "'Tis a blessing that Viggo's found someone to make him truly happy."
"And you as well, my friend," Orlando quipped, slapping his mate lightheartedly on the shoulder. "I can hardly wait to get back, myself," he added.
"That's another thing," Karl responded, a bit quizzically. "Um….I've got, er, 'instructions' for you when you return."
"What the fuck?"
"It's a surprise, love," Karl replied…Orlando noting the suspicious smirk that overtook his lips.
"Tell me," he urged.
"You're to be introduced to a very important part of the Master's past, love," Karl said, grinning the whole time.
"Karl. Please. Tell me," Orlando pleaded, almost crawling into the front seat with the chauffeur.
"All in good time, my friend."
Orlando squirmed the remainder of the trip, in response to an unusually quiet Karl. Once they reached Viggo's home…THEIR home…Karl wordlessly assisted Orlando in bringing the remaining furniture into the house.
Once they'd emptied the limo, Karl took Orlando's face in his own hands. "Soon, you will be aware of his gift. Before then, though, do you need to 'freshen up'?"
"If he won't have me like this," Orlando mused, albeit inwardly, "then he won't have me for our lifetime."
Karl nodded his understanding, and then led Orlando by the hand. He guided the willing lad through hallways and secret passages….until they came upon a storeroom of sorts. It was then that Orlando gasped.
"It's gorgeous," he said, any other words escaping him.
The red sofa was a most elegant piece of furniture when it was first made, but time and wear had taken their toll upon it. When new, only the well-to-do could afford furniture of this quality. Its frame was made of the strongest wood; only the softest padding filled its cushions. The legs and trim were crafted of rare mahogany and ebony; and the red velvet fabric, pleated and tufted in an intricate design across the curved back, was thick and luxurious. In its first home, it occupied a place of honor in the formal parlor; but it was seldom used, except when guests were invited. Over time sunlight began to fade the vibrancy of the crimson velvet, and disuse to stiffen its suppleness. After several years, tastes changed; the ornate sofa was replaced with a sleek leather divan, and relegated to an upstairs playroom. There it was constantly employed by the household's children; spilled drinks and dirty shoes began to soil and abrade its surface. Then one day the children were grown and the playroom abandoned, and eventually the red sofa was carried downstairs and left by the curb, along with other discards deemed too old or too damaged to be saved.
Its story might have ended there, had it not been for the Artist. He had been passing by on the street, but pulled to the curb to examine the jumble of discards with a critical eye. Spotting the sofa, he ran a palm over its elegantly curved back with a smile. 'What's a beautiful piece like you doing here on the street?' he asked in a slightly husky voice. 'Looks like you need someone to rescue you, Red, and it just so happens that I need a sofa. This could be a match made in heaven.' The sofa was large and heavy, but the Artist was young and determined. With some effort he wedged it into the hatchback of his small car and dragged it up the stairs to his mostly empty apartment.
Over time, the Artist brought home other treasures – one day, a low table with a top made from a slice of tree trunk; on another, a brass lamp in the form of a woman wreathed in vines, its glass bulbs shaped like ripe clusters of grapes. He filled the apartment with books and boxes of found items, and with easels and canvas and paints and photographs. At times he would sprawl on the sofa for hours, scribbling in notebooks or resting between bursts of painting. He once slept on the sofa for a week in paint-splattered clothes, begrudging the time he had to close his eyes, so he could begin painting again as soon as he awoke. Its fabric became marked with oils and acrylics, solvents and developing chemicals. But the Artist still thought the sofa was beautiful.
"Gods, this is a gorgeous piece of furniture," Orlando remarked, and Karl knew Viggo would be elated with Orlando's reaction.
"It's a very important piece to him," Karl mentioned, noting the lad hadn't taken his eyes off the upholstered remnant.
"It's definitely got history," Orlando commented, running his hand over the vintage fabric. There was a slight pause, however unnoticed by Orlando himself, as his hand ran over a rough patch in the material. How could he have known that scrap had been the result of its master's response to Orlando himself?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Sit," Karl instructed simply. "Wait. He'll be here soon."
Orlando waited, mesmerized by the anticipation of his lover's presence. His eyes remained closed as he awaited Viggo's appearance. However, the first indication of his lover's presence was not visual.
The beat pulsed against Orlando's eardrums, lulling him out of his hypnotic vigil. Primitive drums, beating a rhythm conducive to the sensual … the sound overtook Orlando, establishing a rhythm and response in the young man that was impossible not to succumb to.
His eyes remained closed…the palpitations taking over the rhythms of his body. His breath gave into the tempo…his heart took on the cadence of that driving force. He could feel the pulsating reactions of his cock following the very pulse of that beat…as if he'd already penetrated his lover.
And yet, there was no one there.
Karl watched as the young man swayed, his body unconsciously responding to the passion overtaking him. He smiled, and walked away…eager to join with his own lover in that fashion.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Orlando lay back against the burgundy fabric as the pulsing rhythm overwhelmed him. 'I wonder how many memories lie within your grasp, my friend,' he pondered aloud. 'How many lovers has he had before me?'
As if to respond, the padding enveloped him, nurtured him…."So," he said aloud. "Tell me how to please my lover." The question was rhetorical, certainly. And Orlando never expected an answer. However, when he felt the very fiber of the worn velvet fabric embracing him, he was without explanation.
'You are that which he seeks. Your very presence pleases him.' The voice, albeit feminine, was unmistakable.
Orlando shifted uncomfortably against the well-padded fabric, his fingers tracing errant splashes and stains the sofa had accumulated throughout the years. 'Am I imagining this?' he asked himself. 'Or is there really a bit of my lover in here?' Orlando's gaze searched the couch's gorgeously worn features for answers. Finally deciding not to over think the situation, he continued. "He is definitive of his choice?"
He felt the cushion move beneath his body, settling against the weight of him. 'Do you doubt your master?'
Orlando's head shook in disbelief. "There's no way you can be having a conversation with me," he responded, insecure in his actual response
Again, the 'voice' replied to him, and, eyes still closed, he felt a 'hand' ghosting up through his wayward curls. 'I've been with him when he's poor and when he's rich…when he's weak and strong…I was there through his pain…'
The young man kept the fleshy shields down over his eyes, yet he tossed his head back and forth against the upholstered back. "I…" he began, yet was unable to form any sort of coherent thought.
'All his life he's been loving you…and just waiting for you to come to him,' the intonation continued. Orlando felt as if his entire body were being coddled. 'Wait here for him. Come together with him. Be one with him forever.'
And then, the voice was silent.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Karl left Orlando, making his way back to his apartment, to find Sean and Viggo just returning. Not sure whether to look or not, he found he couldn't suppress his curiosity. He was slightly puzzled when the first thing he saw exiting the car was a long, stocking-clad leg ending in an impossibly high heeled black pump. What he didn't expect was to find the owner of that enticing leg was his employer. Viggo stood before his chauffeur, obviously waiting on some reaction.
"Holy shit, Viggo," Karl remarked, unable to control the words of his reaction. "Thank the gods I've got Sean here, or I'd be wanking in my own bedroom at the sight of you!"
Viggo dropped his head a bit, blushing, then looked to Sean. "Thank you, friend."
"Jes fookin' enjoy yerself, mate," Sean replied, in his now all-too-familiar way. He moved over to grab the back of Karl's head, pulling the man to meet his demanding lips. When they parted, Sean spoke breathlessly, his voice low and only for the ears of his lover. "I'm about to fookin' enjoy MEself," he taunted as he took Karl's lobe between his teeth. Viggo watched only momentarily, marveling in the primal passion between his two friends.
Then he moved to quietly enter the front door of his own home…and to claim his lover for good.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Orlando wasn't aware of how long he'd napped. The only reason he recognized his return to consciousness was the beat, pulsating deep within his body. Apparently there was some sort of sound system here, in this room where he lounged on the couch he’d come to think off as Red. Eyes fluttering open, he surprisingly encountered darkness…and then a pulsating light. Soon, his eyes became accustomed to the strobe, and he was aware of a figure approaching him. The body continued its advance, until it loomed directly in front of Orlando. It took several flashes of light for him to recognize the face of his lover…of Viggo, his face vague under a thick and concealing application of makeup.
Instead of being driven to laughter, Orlando was mesmerized…his eyes tracing across the familiar-yet-altered face of his lover. Eyes…stark sapphire a lure to his core...drawing Orlando's very soul into his lover’s gaze. Lips, those lips he'd come to covet, the upper lip with the familiar scar just past the perfect cupid-bow meeting along the upper ridge…the fullness of them covered incongruously with a thick layer of crimson stain,. Viggo's ever-stubble-covered jaw could not hide the pronounced dip of cleft in his chin…the lickable, suckable, inviting place that pleaded for Orlando's tongue to take refuge.
Orlando's gaze moved lower, taking in the ridiculous hot-pink boa he remembered from some Halloween costume. Obviously, Sean had taken Viggo 'shopping' in his trunk of dance outfits. The mass of feathers was outlandish, and covered most of whatever Viggo did (or did not) have on underneath. What he did notice, however, was the long expanse of silk-encased legs that were stuffed into his favorite pumps.
The intro to the song continued, and Orlando rose from the couch to stand just next to Viggo…his lips dangerously near to the older man's ear. Somehow, though, Viggo maintained his stillness, his current non-responsiveness. Orlando knew the song, and he purred the first line of lyrics to Viggo. "You let me violate you….you let me desecrate you…." Viggo's body had begun to move, in rhythm with the music. Orlando backed up a bit, taking the ends of the boa and moving them apart to gaze at what lie beneath. Viggo's hard body was encased in little more than a whisper of black sprayed on saran wrap….the transparent sheathe of gauzy material stretched around his muscled torso and hips.
Orlando's hand moved upward of its own accord, meeting the cleft in Viggo's chin, stroking a path down the stubbled neck, skimming over the top of the material-covered chest….until, midway between Viggo’s nipples, he encountered….something. Upon closer inspection, Orlando realized it was a chain. Looking from side to side, he found Viggo sporting the nipple clamps he'd been wearing that first night. Orlando ran his finger along the slight ridge the chain caused…back and forth between Viggo's tortured nipples, until he ran across another unfamiliar lump…something larger this time.
"What is this, Viggo?" he asked, his voice already ragged with lust.
Perfectly timed with the music, Viggo used the lyrics to answer. "Help me, I broke apart my insides, help me, I've got not soul to sell…"
Orlando took the boa with one hand, slid it from around Viggo's neck and let it drop to the floor. Then his hands moved, grasping the bottom hem of the 'dress', lifting it up and over Viggo's head. To his surprise, the object he found nestled against Viggo's chest, dangling from the chain, was a diamond-encrusted ring.
He had to breathe deeply and take in the whole picture of Viggo standing before him…lace topped thigh high stockings and those incredible black pumps….nothing else on the enticing body except the nipple clamps and chain….and the ring…..
Orlando moved just a breath from Viggo, reached up and hooked his finger in the ring…stretching the older man's nipples out tautly. "I wanna fuck you like an animal," Orlando teased, his pelvis moving forward to grind against Viggo's already painfully-erect cock. "I wanna feel you from the inside…"
And then, Orlando's mouth was on Viggo's, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny…as if he were tasting his mouth for the first time. Somewhere in his lust-addled brain, Orlando felt something being nudged into his hand. A glint of recognition flashed through him as he realized he'd just been handed lube. "I wanna fuck you like an animal," the song continued, and Orlando found himself emptying some of the gel onto his fingers, reaching around while never breaking the kiss, and breaching Viggo's pucker with one finger. He slid the digit in, his rhythm in time with the promiscuous beat of the song. In and out, and then added a second. Curling the fingers as he felt Viggo blatantly rubbing his hardness against Orlando's jean-clad thigh. Viggo's moan pierced through the music, through the primal beat that drove them both.
Viggo's arms came up to cling to Orlando's shoulders in surrender, and he was barely able to whisper his plea. "Please, baby, fuck me. Take me. Make me yours." He lost his ability to stand, crumpling down face first onto Red. Orlando was right behind him, quickly removing his jeans and positioning himself between the older man's legs.
Orlando resumed his assault on his lover's ass, now with three fingers diving deep inside. His other hand quickly freed himself from the confines of his jeans and lubed up his own erection, wondering if he could hold out long enough to bring satisfaction to his lover. He brought the head of his cock to the opening, moving the slick, pre-come covered hardness to rub up against the now-quivering pucker.
"Fuck, Orli, just do it, now….fuck me."
Orlando pressed just a bit, so that the head slipped past the guardian muscle and into Viggo's ass. A loud growl came from the older man, from deep inside his body in response to the penetration. With that, Orlando bucked his hips, and sheathed himself completely inside.
"Holy fucking shit, Orlando….move!"
And move he did. In perfect time to the music, although he wasn't sure which part of his brain was able to concentrate on it. Reaching around, he grabbed Viggo's cock with his lubed hand….fisting him as well. "Come with me, my love."
The entire situation was too erotic, too highly-charged for either of them to last long. Their mutual culmination was evidenced by a roar which drowned out even the stereo system. After the music had stopped, they lay there, Orlando on top of Viggo on top of Red, for a long while. Finally, Viggo couldn't stand the added pressure of lying on his clipped nipples. "Please, 'lando," he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the quiet between them. "I've got to move off these damned clips."
Orlando laughed, getting up just enough for Viggo to sit next to him. He moved his fingertip to rub against the distended flesh of one, then the other nipple. "Aren't they amazing?" he asked, mindlessly.
"I don't know how you wear them," Viggo admitted…but was mesmerized as Orlando's finger began to follow the trail once again down the chain between the nipples.
"Tell me what this is," he remarked, fingering the ring once he came across it again.
Viggo had been rehearsing the poem in his mind for days. He hesitated, momentarily, as he watched Orlando's finger darting in and out of the golden circle of diamonds…each tug gently pulling on the still-pinched nipples. Viggo was content to let the clips remain during his recitation:
"Before I knew you, I had always loved you,
Even as I dreamed of whom I'd love.
My inner picture was a portrait of you
Years before your heart my heart would move.
Vistas of enchantment are but rarely
As we find them in reality.
Love with you is what I dreamed, but really,
Eden as no dream could ever be.
Nor is this the magic of the moment,
The proper costume for the holiday.
In words like these one finds the winnowed ferment,
Not of the desire, but of the way,
Else lost amid the longings of the day."
Dark, chocolate eyes moved up to meet Viggo's gaze. "I cannot imagine my life without you in it,” Viggo murmured. “Now that you're really here, tell me you'll stay with me forever."
"Forever," Orlando agreed, but his word was swallowed deep in Viggo's mouth.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* THE END
Author:
obselizabethE-mail: obselizabeth@gmail.com
Live journal: www.livejournal.com/users/obselizabeth
Rating: NC-17
Type: RPS
Pairing: ViggOrli (and my own personal selection of other boys)
Warnings: it's slash, ladies :)
Disclaimer: wouldn't it be nice if we COULD see Orlando pole dancing?
Feedback: is the cream in my coffee
Summary: Viggo's a bored multi-gazillionaire...Orlando's a pole dancer
A/N: Finally! It's been a long journey for me. This is the longest fic I've ever written. Thanks so much to my dear friend,
namarie120, for Beta: The glamorous
namarie120*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Slowly, as the needs presented themselves, Orlando's things were moved from his condo to Viggo's house…not that Orlando wanted for anything. After a month of hedonistic bliss, Viggo suggested they pack the few remaining belongings and put the condo up for sale.
"You mean…" Orlando started, still a bit hesitant to voice the future he'd hoped for with Viggo.
"Yes, you silly," Viggo muttered, his lips against the younger man's forehead. "I want you here…with me…forever…if you'll have me…"
Still flushed with their recent culmination of passion, Orlando’s lips, full and evident of being well-kissed, moved swiftly and accurately, cutting off anything further Viggo had to say. The older man chuckled beneath the welcome assault, then moaned in response to the overwhelming evidence of Orlando's resilient youth grinding against his leg.
"You're going to be the death of me," Viggo mumbled, cut off again as Orlando sucked his tongue into his mouth.
"Complaining, old man?" Orlando asked, finally parted only by the need for air.
"Never, my love," Viggo asserted. "And," he continued, realizing his temporary ownership of his own mouth, "I don't believe you've given me an answer…"
Orlando blinked…once, then twice. "What, exactly, was the question?"
Viggo seized the opportunity, expertly maneuvering the younger over in a flip, straddling him in a quick yet confusing move. "I want you. I need you…here, with me, forever." Viggo looked down at his lover. He'd grown accustomed to the beautiful, sable depths of his eyes darkening to espresso in response to his lust…the glorious haze that overtook his face…the beckoning scent that singularly called Viggo's own body to respond.
Viggo's position allowed the fullness of his ass to move along the younger man's erection, effectively trapping it between his meaty globes. Only adding to Orlando's frustration, Viggo allowed his hands to trail up the younger man's abdomen…his fingers burning a slow trail up the hairless flesh as he continued pistoning himself along the glowing, fleshy track of Orlando's cock.
"Fuck me, baby," Orlando begged, his eyes all but completely rolled up in his head.
"Much as I’d love to, I can’t," Viggo murmured, his fingertips reaching Orlando's nipples, pinching and tugging the sensitive buds. "You've all but worn me out," he continued, his hips continuing their movement, his mouth moving lower to claim one of the fleshy peaks. "But I am not too old to make you happy, my love," he said through his teeth.
Orlando squirmed helplessly beneath him, his body writing incoherently. "I doubt," Orlando sputtered…"that you could ever … do anything to … make me … unhappy." His words came in shudders…his body helpless in response to his lover's touch. "Gods, Viggo," Orlando begged. "Help me."
An evil, calculated grin spread across Viggo's face as he remained still. "Answer my question, and I will give you what you want," he taunted, punctuated by his fingers pinching hard against a swollen, distended teat.
Orlando, in confusion and complete forgetfulness of any question at this point, merely responded with the only answer he knew he'd give to anything Viggo asked of him. "Yessssssssssssssssssssssss…"
"That's the correct answer, my love," Viggo said, still in character. He moved swiftly, his mouth quickly engulfing Orlando stiff erection.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkk," Orlando responded, his senses completely overwhelmed.
Viggo reveled in the taste of his lover's arousal leaking from the swollen head of his penis. His tongue maneuvered around the tip, tracing along the engorged ridge of the head, following the path around and around until he felt the stiff flesh pulsating in response against his tongue. "I want you, all of you….my love," Viggo chanted, his words a mere humming whisper against Orlando's sensitive flesh.
"Vig…" The mono-syllabic mantra rolled off Orlando's tongue almost mindlessly. Orlando couldn't focus…the overwhelming feel of Viggo's tongue tracing along his area of greatest response almost too much to endure coherently. "Anything…" he murmured his candid acquiescence.
Viggo's lips slid down all the way, until they hit the base where Orlando's cock met his pelvis. His mouth tightened, clamping around the pedestal of rigid flesh…then pulling a slow path up toward the head.
"Jesus, baby," Orlando managed, his body vibrating violently under Viggo's ministrations.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm," Viggo purred, the vibrations from his voice buzzing along Orlando's erection.
Viggo knew his lover needed to come again, and knew he couldn't physically provide for him in any way other than his mouth at this point. Viggo realized, at his age, he'd be providing a great deal of satisfaction with his mouth…not that he was complaining.
He felt Orlando beginning to pump his hips erratically up against his lips. "Come for me…only me," Viggo urged, his lips tightening along his lover's shaft.
Orlando could barely recognize the words his lover spoke. His body responded to Viggo's touch, distracted from all coherent thought or coordinated reaction. All that came from him was a stream of unintelligible babble.
Viggo continued the suction of his mouth in a constant urgency against Orlando's turgid flesh. He continued until he felt the younger man pulsating within his mouth, the fluid shooting violently into the warm, awaiting cavern. His tongue lapped against the receding tissue, content on caressing the rapidly decreasing organ within his mouth. Orlando continued to nudge against his lover's lips, insistent on garnishing every bit of stimulation he could exact from the older man.
"You don't give up," Viggo asked, the question almost incoherent amidst the mass within his mouth.
Orlando, at the moment, was at a loss to respond. "Mmmmmmm," he murmured. "I can't help myself. You keep me hard all the time."
"Even a millionaire has errands to run, love," Viggo protested, somewhat-reluctantly pushing his lover onto the other side of the bed. Viggo didn't want to reveal his plan for later that evening; but tried, desperately, to convince Orlando to go with Karl to pack up the last of his belongings and meet back at the house that same night.
"I'll do it this weekend, master," Orlando taunted, his insatiable lips tracing a path down Viggo's chest, threatening the trail that led to his crotch.
"Lover, not master," Viggo said, his hands moving into the expanse of curls atop Orlando's head. Viggo was hard-pressed to push his lover away. "Orli, my love," he pleaded. "Please, trust me. I need…to take care of a few things…just meet me back here tonight. Karl will give you…'instructions'…" Viggo spoke cryptically, yet firmly.
Orlando looked at him, large pools of chocolate dissolving under the cerulean stare. The previous three weeks had blown by, the two of them sharing many physical longings…but not yet discovering each other's innermost needs. "I don't 'want' to leave you," the younger man murmured, his soft wet lips buzzing against Viggo's.
"Nnn….neeeeeee….ddd….you…" The sultry, English accent was hoarse with longing.
"Fuck," came Viggo's comment, barely sputtered as his mouth made its way against Orlando's tempting neck. "Just….um…..fuck."
"I know…" came Orlando's response, not much louder than Viggo's plea had been. It didn't take long before Orlando felt Viggo's fingers hunting…seeking out the puckered entrance that he sought. Lubrication, thankfully, came readily…as Orlando's cock wept abundantly in his arousal. Viggo was quick to swipe the slippery liquid on his fingertips…guiding the fluid back to his target. Forth and back, his fingers manipulated…until the hole was well lubricated. Viggo's finger expertly worked within the puckered entrance, joined by a second and a third finger…scissoring back and forth until Orlando begged for penetration.
"Mine," Viggo whispered, his cock nudging up against Orlando's entrance.
"Now," Orlando begged, his ass arching backward to urge the thick mass of flesh deep into his orifice.
Viggo thrust deep, his first drive penetrating Orlando in one thrust. "My God," he swore, the feeling overwhelming.
"Yessssssssssssssss," came Orlando's reply, almost incoherent. The younger man propelled himself backward against each of his lover's plunges. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"
Viggo had never felt anything like the constant, unquenchable arousal his young lover inspired in him. He plunged even deeper into the enveloping friction, desperate to give Orlando everything he begged for. "Ohhhhhmyyyyyyygggoooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddddddddddddddddddddd," he swore, not in control of the sounds coming from his mouth.
Orlando felt the rigid flesh drive deep into his needy canal. "Viggo," the younger man moaned, as he felt himself stretched.
Viggo complied instinctively with the unspoken plea, his mental capacity so diminished that every thought was consumed with the image of filling Orlando to the brink. "Shit, baby," he managed, his words garbled.
The penetration continued, urged on by primal lust. Viggo's thick cock delved deep inside of him, propelling down into Orlando’s awaiting, throbbing cavern. Orlando couldn't comprehend the overwhelming sensation that encompassed him. So he allowed himself to delve into the sensation, completely trusting of Viggo and the lust he inspired.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Sean," Viggo shouted, nervously.
"I'll be there in a fookin' minute," the blonde responded, nervously attempting to complete his tasks before attending to Viggo's needs. "Jaysus!"
Viggo chuckled, nudging his way through the assortment of naughty body-embellishments he'd found within the trunk in Orlando's dressing room. He’d only meant to find something 'appropriate' to wear, to entice his lover that evening. And Sean had allowed him access to the room, unknown to his lover.
Viggo made his way through the flimsy, almost humiliating outfits within the chest. Most of them were nothing more than slightly-colored cellophane. Soon, so very soon, this overwhelmingly sexy man would be his. But first, he needed to present an irresistible presence of his own.
He knew his attire had to be outlandish…something not expected as well as erotic. Wrapping the fuchsia boa around his neck, he was surprised by Sean entering the room.
"Shit," Viggo swore, realizing he wasn't alone.
"I dinna mean to spook ye," Sean affirmed, taking in the sight before him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Viggo's toes curled as he slid them into the shiny, black pumps. They were 'just' too short, but not painful. Apparently his feet were only slightly longer than Orlando's. Not a fact that meant anything. Just that the shoes wouldn't make it on Viggo's feet very long tonight. But he'd make them last long enough to be noticed.
"Shit," he swore, instigating a chuckle from Sean.
"I dinna say they'd be comfortable," Sean muttered, trying to conceal his amusement. "But ye did want to be 'jes like 'im'," he continued, even more delighted with Viggo's discomfort.
"Fine," Viggo sputtered, continuing his tortuous staggering around the room. "Now, what else?"
Sean moved to another trunk, off in one corner, and began to rummage through its contents. Several items were tossed over his shoulder, landing at Viggo's feet. Viggo would retrieve each garment…some he tossed, a few he kept for further inspection. Once Sean had completed his perusal of the trunk's stuffing, he turned to his friend. "Ready for your fashion show?" he asked, his voice excessively acerbic.
"You actually want to see me 'modeling' this shit?" Viggo asked, incredulously.
Sean couldn't hold back the laughter that bellowed up from his gut. "Ye don't fookin' think that ye can choose somethin' sexeh, do ye?"
Viggo's head hung a bit, suddenly and uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "I thought you were going to help me," he pleaded.
"Go, get yerself dressed," Sean urged, slapping his friend on the ass…not sure exactly what he'd expected.
It wasn't long before Viggo came out from behind the taut curtain, sporting a voluminous fuchsia boa. "Ok, you bad boy, here I come," he announced, trying to invoke any sort of sexual demon that might assist his cause.
Sean's jaw dropped as the vision of Viggo appeared before him. "Fookin' hell," he swore, his lower jaw refusing to make contact with its upper neighbor.
"Is that a 'good' or 'bad' response?" Viggo asked, unsure of the reaction he'd received.
"Holy fookin' shit, Vig," Sean mumbled, unable to say anything further at the moment. "Yer the freakin' epitome of any man's wet dream."
Viggo took that as a compliment, and grabbed a robe…unwilling to change clothes and possibly mar the illusion he'd created. Hopefully Karl had kept Orlando away long enough for him to slip home and into the scenario he'd carefully planned.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You're a gem to have helped me, love," Orlando noted, with characteristic politeness. Karl had helped him in record time to pack up the remainder of his belongings and pack them into the ample spaces within the limo.
"No worries," Karl assured him. "'Tis a blessing that Viggo's found someone to make him truly happy."
"And you as well, my friend," Orlando quipped, slapping his mate lightheartedly on the shoulder. "I can hardly wait to get back, myself," he added.
"That's another thing," Karl responded, a bit quizzically. "Um….I've got, er, 'instructions' for you when you return."
"What the fuck?"
"It's a surprise, love," Karl replied…Orlando noting the suspicious smirk that overtook his lips.
"Tell me," he urged.
"You're to be introduced to a very important part of the Master's past, love," Karl said, grinning the whole time.
"Karl. Please. Tell me," Orlando pleaded, almost crawling into the front seat with the chauffeur.
"All in good time, my friend."
Orlando squirmed the remainder of the trip, in response to an unusually quiet Karl. Once they reached Viggo's home…THEIR home…Karl wordlessly assisted Orlando in bringing the remaining furniture into the house.
Once they'd emptied the limo, Karl took Orlando's face in his own hands. "Soon, you will be aware of his gift. Before then, though, do you need to 'freshen up'?"
"If he won't have me like this," Orlando mused, albeit inwardly, "then he won't have me for our lifetime."
Karl nodded his understanding, and then led Orlando by the hand. He guided the willing lad through hallways and secret passages….until they came upon a storeroom of sorts. It was then that Orlando gasped.
"It's gorgeous," he said, any other words escaping him.
The red sofa was a most elegant piece of furniture when it was first made, but time and wear had taken their toll upon it. When new, only the well-to-do could afford furniture of this quality. Its frame was made of the strongest wood; only the softest padding filled its cushions. The legs and trim were crafted of rare mahogany and ebony; and the red velvet fabric, pleated and tufted in an intricate design across the curved back, was thick and luxurious. In its first home, it occupied a place of honor in the formal parlor; but it was seldom used, except when guests were invited. Over time sunlight began to fade the vibrancy of the crimson velvet, and disuse to stiffen its suppleness. After several years, tastes changed; the ornate sofa was replaced with a sleek leather divan, and relegated to an upstairs playroom. There it was constantly employed by the household's children; spilled drinks and dirty shoes began to soil and abrade its surface. Then one day the children were grown and the playroom abandoned, and eventually the red sofa was carried downstairs and left by the curb, along with other discards deemed too old or too damaged to be saved.
Its story might have ended there, had it not been for the Artist. He had been passing by on the street, but pulled to the curb to examine the jumble of discards with a critical eye. Spotting the sofa, he ran a palm over its elegantly curved back with a smile. 'What's a beautiful piece like you doing here on the street?' he asked in a slightly husky voice. 'Looks like you need someone to rescue you, Red, and it just so happens that I need a sofa. This could be a match made in heaven.' The sofa was large and heavy, but the Artist was young and determined. With some effort he wedged it into the hatchback of his small car and dragged it up the stairs to his mostly empty apartment.
Over time, the Artist brought home other treasures – one day, a low table with a top made from a slice of tree trunk; on another, a brass lamp in the form of a woman wreathed in vines, its glass bulbs shaped like ripe clusters of grapes. He filled the apartment with books and boxes of found items, and with easels and canvas and paints and photographs. At times he would sprawl on the sofa for hours, scribbling in notebooks or resting between bursts of painting. He once slept on the sofa for a week in paint-splattered clothes, begrudging the time he had to close his eyes, so he could begin painting again as soon as he awoke. Its fabric became marked with oils and acrylics, solvents and developing chemicals. But the Artist still thought the sofa was beautiful.
"Gods, this is a gorgeous piece of furniture," Orlando remarked, and Karl knew Viggo would be elated with Orlando's reaction.
"It's a very important piece to him," Karl mentioned, noting the lad hadn't taken his eyes off the upholstered remnant.
"It's definitely got history," Orlando commented, running his hand over the vintage fabric. There was a slight pause, however unnoticed by Orlando himself, as his hand ran over a rough patch in the material. How could he have known that scrap had been the result of its master's response to Orlando himself?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Sit," Karl instructed simply. "Wait. He'll be here soon."
Orlando waited, mesmerized by the anticipation of his lover's presence. His eyes remained closed as he awaited Viggo's appearance. However, the first indication of his lover's presence was not visual.
The beat pulsed against Orlando's eardrums, lulling him out of his hypnotic vigil. Primitive drums, beating a rhythm conducive to the sensual … the sound overtook Orlando, establishing a rhythm and response in the young man that was impossible not to succumb to.
His eyes remained closed…the palpitations taking over the rhythms of his body. His breath gave into the tempo…his heart took on the cadence of that driving force. He could feel the pulsating reactions of his cock following the very pulse of that beat…as if he'd already penetrated his lover.
And yet, there was no one there.
Karl watched as the young man swayed, his body unconsciously responding to the passion overtaking him. He smiled, and walked away…eager to join with his own lover in that fashion.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Orlando lay back against the burgundy fabric as the pulsing rhythm overwhelmed him. 'I wonder how many memories lie within your grasp, my friend,' he pondered aloud. 'How many lovers has he had before me?'
As if to respond, the padding enveloped him, nurtured him…."So," he said aloud. "Tell me how to please my lover." The question was rhetorical, certainly. And Orlando never expected an answer. However, when he felt the very fiber of the worn velvet fabric embracing him, he was without explanation.
'You are that which he seeks. Your very presence pleases him.' The voice, albeit feminine, was unmistakable.
Orlando shifted uncomfortably against the well-padded fabric, his fingers tracing errant splashes and stains the sofa had accumulated throughout the years. 'Am I imagining this?' he asked himself. 'Or is there really a bit of my lover in here?' Orlando's gaze searched the couch's gorgeously worn features for answers. Finally deciding not to over think the situation, he continued. "He is definitive of his choice?"
He felt the cushion move beneath his body, settling against the weight of him. 'Do you doubt your master?'
Orlando's head shook in disbelief. "There's no way you can be having a conversation with me," he responded, insecure in his actual response
Again, the 'voice' replied to him, and, eyes still closed, he felt a 'hand' ghosting up through his wayward curls. 'I've been with him when he's poor and when he's rich…when he's weak and strong…I was there through his pain…'
The young man kept the fleshy shields down over his eyes, yet he tossed his head back and forth against the upholstered back. "I…" he began, yet was unable to form any sort of coherent thought.
'All his life he's been loving you…and just waiting for you to come to him,' the intonation continued. Orlando felt as if his entire body were being coddled. 'Wait here for him. Come together with him. Be one with him forever.'
And then, the voice was silent.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Karl left Orlando, making his way back to his apartment, to find Sean and Viggo just returning. Not sure whether to look or not, he found he couldn't suppress his curiosity. He was slightly puzzled when the first thing he saw exiting the car was a long, stocking-clad leg ending in an impossibly high heeled black pump. What he didn't expect was to find the owner of that enticing leg was his employer. Viggo stood before his chauffeur, obviously waiting on some reaction.
"Holy shit, Viggo," Karl remarked, unable to control the words of his reaction. "Thank the gods I've got Sean here, or I'd be wanking in my own bedroom at the sight of you!"
Viggo dropped his head a bit, blushing, then looked to Sean. "Thank you, friend."
"Jes fookin' enjoy yerself, mate," Sean replied, in his now all-too-familiar way. He moved over to grab the back of Karl's head, pulling the man to meet his demanding lips. When they parted, Sean spoke breathlessly, his voice low and only for the ears of his lover. "I'm about to fookin' enjoy MEself," he taunted as he took Karl's lobe between his teeth. Viggo watched only momentarily, marveling in the primal passion between his two friends.
Then he moved to quietly enter the front door of his own home…and to claim his lover for good.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Orlando wasn't aware of how long he'd napped. The only reason he recognized his return to consciousness was the beat, pulsating deep within his body. Apparently there was some sort of sound system here, in this room where he lounged on the couch he’d come to think off as Red. Eyes fluttering open, he surprisingly encountered darkness…and then a pulsating light. Soon, his eyes became accustomed to the strobe, and he was aware of a figure approaching him. The body continued its advance, until it loomed directly in front of Orlando. It took several flashes of light for him to recognize the face of his lover…of Viggo, his face vague under a thick and concealing application of makeup.
Instead of being driven to laughter, Orlando was mesmerized…his eyes tracing across the familiar-yet-altered face of his lover. Eyes…stark sapphire a lure to his core...drawing Orlando's very soul into his lover’s gaze. Lips, those lips he'd come to covet, the upper lip with the familiar scar just past the perfect cupid-bow meeting along the upper ridge…the fullness of them covered incongruously with a thick layer of crimson stain,. Viggo's ever-stubble-covered jaw could not hide the pronounced dip of cleft in his chin…the lickable, suckable, inviting place that pleaded for Orlando's tongue to take refuge.
Orlando's gaze moved lower, taking in the ridiculous hot-pink boa he remembered from some Halloween costume. Obviously, Sean had taken Viggo 'shopping' in his trunk of dance outfits. The mass of feathers was outlandish, and covered most of whatever Viggo did (or did not) have on underneath. What he did notice, however, was the long expanse of silk-encased legs that were stuffed into his favorite pumps.
The intro to the song continued, and Orlando rose from the couch to stand just next to Viggo…his lips dangerously near to the older man's ear. Somehow, though, Viggo maintained his stillness, his current non-responsiveness. Orlando knew the song, and he purred the first line of lyrics to Viggo. "You let me violate you….you let me desecrate you…." Viggo's body had begun to move, in rhythm with the music. Orlando backed up a bit, taking the ends of the boa and moving them apart to gaze at what lie beneath. Viggo's hard body was encased in little more than a whisper of black sprayed on saran wrap….the transparent sheathe of gauzy material stretched around his muscled torso and hips.
Orlando's hand moved upward of its own accord, meeting the cleft in Viggo's chin, stroking a path down the stubbled neck, skimming over the top of the material-covered chest….until, midway between Viggo’s nipples, he encountered….something. Upon closer inspection, Orlando realized it was a chain. Looking from side to side, he found Viggo sporting the nipple clamps he'd been wearing that first night. Orlando ran his finger along the slight ridge the chain caused…back and forth between Viggo's tortured nipples, until he ran across another unfamiliar lump…something larger this time.
"What is this, Viggo?" he asked, his voice already ragged with lust.
Perfectly timed with the music, Viggo used the lyrics to answer. "Help me, I broke apart my insides, help me, I've got not soul to sell…"
Orlando took the boa with one hand, slid it from around Viggo's neck and let it drop to the floor. Then his hands moved, grasping the bottom hem of the 'dress', lifting it up and over Viggo's head. To his surprise, the object he found nestled against Viggo's chest, dangling from the chain, was a diamond-encrusted ring.
He had to breathe deeply and take in the whole picture of Viggo standing before him…lace topped thigh high stockings and those incredible black pumps….nothing else on the enticing body except the nipple clamps and chain….and the ring…..
Orlando moved just a breath from Viggo, reached up and hooked his finger in the ring…stretching the older man's nipples out tautly. "I wanna fuck you like an animal," Orlando teased, his pelvis moving forward to grind against Viggo's already painfully-erect cock. "I wanna feel you from the inside…"
And then, Orlando's mouth was on Viggo's, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny…as if he were tasting his mouth for the first time. Somewhere in his lust-addled brain, Orlando felt something being nudged into his hand. A glint of recognition flashed through him as he realized he'd just been handed lube. "I wanna fuck you like an animal," the song continued, and Orlando found himself emptying some of the gel onto his fingers, reaching around while never breaking the kiss, and breaching Viggo's pucker with one finger. He slid the digit in, his rhythm in time with the promiscuous beat of the song. In and out, and then added a second. Curling the fingers as he felt Viggo blatantly rubbing his hardness against Orlando's jean-clad thigh. Viggo's moan pierced through the music, through the primal beat that drove them both.
Viggo's arms came up to cling to Orlando's shoulders in surrender, and he was barely able to whisper his plea. "Please, baby, fuck me. Take me. Make me yours." He lost his ability to stand, crumpling down face first onto Red. Orlando was right behind him, quickly removing his jeans and positioning himself between the older man's legs.
Orlando resumed his assault on his lover's ass, now with three fingers diving deep inside. His other hand quickly freed himself from the confines of his jeans and lubed up his own erection, wondering if he could hold out long enough to bring satisfaction to his lover. He brought the head of his cock to the opening, moving the slick, pre-come covered hardness to rub up against the now-quivering pucker.
"Fuck, Orli, just do it, now….fuck me."
Orlando pressed just a bit, so that the head slipped past the guardian muscle and into Viggo's ass. A loud growl came from the older man, from deep inside his body in response to the penetration. With that, Orlando bucked his hips, and sheathed himself completely inside.
"Holy fucking shit, Orlando….move!"
And move he did. In perfect time to the music, although he wasn't sure which part of his brain was able to concentrate on it. Reaching around, he grabbed Viggo's cock with his lubed hand….fisting him as well. "Come with me, my love."
The entire situation was too erotic, too highly-charged for either of them to last long. Their mutual culmination was evidenced by a roar which drowned out even the stereo system. After the music had stopped, they lay there, Orlando on top of Viggo on top of Red, for a long while. Finally, Viggo couldn't stand the added pressure of lying on his clipped nipples. "Please, 'lando," he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the quiet between them. "I've got to move off these damned clips."
Orlando laughed, getting up just enough for Viggo to sit next to him. He moved his fingertip to rub against the distended flesh of one, then the other nipple. "Aren't they amazing?" he asked, mindlessly.
"I don't know how you wear them," Viggo admitted…but was mesmerized as Orlando's finger began to follow the trail once again down the chain between the nipples.
"Tell me what this is," he remarked, fingering the ring once he came across it again.
Viggo had been rehearsing the poem in his mind for days. He hesitated, momentarily, as he watched Orlando's finger darting in and out of the golden circle of diamonds…each tug gently pulling on the still-pinched nipples. Viggo was content to let the clips remain during his recitation:
"Before I knew you, I had always loved you,
Even as I dreamed of whom I'd love.
My inner picture was a portrait of you
Years before your heart my heart would move.
Vistas of enchantment are but rarely
As we find them in reality.
Love with you is what I dreamed, but really,
Eden as no dream could ever be.
Nor is this the magic of the moment,
The proper costume for the holiday.
In words like these one finds the winnowed ferment,
Not of the desire, but of the way,
Else lost amid the longings of the day."
Dark, chocolate eyes moved up to meet Viggo's gaze. "I cannot imagine my life without you in it,” Viggo murmured. “Now that you're really here, tell me you'll stay with me forever."
"Forever," Orlando agreed, but his word was swallowed deep in Viggo's mouth.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* THE END
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