"Do you know what I want to do to you?"
Viggo grins as he finishes putting the laundry away. "From the look on your face, I've got a pretty good idea."
"Well, it's not my fault that you look so unbelievably sexy when you fold our underwear," I tease.
"So what *do* you want to do to me, Romeo?" he asks, kicking the laundry basket aside and turning to look at me with his arms crossed over his chest.
"I want to seduce you," I tell him with my best sultry smile.
He laughs loudly. "Orli, you don't need to seduce me. I'm quite willing to make love to you or have you make love to me."
"But I want to seduce you," I whine, pulling him onto the bed by his belt loops and wrapping my arms around him.
"Okay, then seduce me," he chuckles. "I give you full power to use me for erotic purposes."
My cock immediately comes to life at *that* statement. "Good, because I intend to have you ravish me before dinner. We need to work up an appetite," I purr as I run my hand over his chest, glad he decided to go shirtless around the house today. His breath hitches when my fingers gently tweak one of his nipples, then he lets out a low moan as I start to kiss the hollow of his neck.
"Orli," he breathes, running his hands down my back and urging me closer to him. The sound of him saying my name so sexily makes me flash him a wicked smile before I push him onto his back and straddle him.
"Yes, Viggo?" I ask cheekily. "Is there something you want? Me, perhaps?" My tee-shirt is removed and I grind a little against him.
"I always want you," he groans.
"That's nice to hear. The feeling is mutual, of course." I lower my mouth to kiss him, trailing my tongue along his lips as my fingers undo the fly of his jeans. Reaching into his boxers, I pull out the hot length of his cock and smile as I feel it begin to harden under my touch. We kiss once more, my tongue stroking his own in time with my hand moving on his cock. I'm about to reach for my own erection when I suddenly realize that my boyfriend is pulling away from the kiss. "Viggo? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." But there's a funny look on his face that makes me a little worried.
"Are you sure? Come here," I say with a hopefully reassuring smile, kissing him again. As I reach for his cock and resume stroking him, it dawns on me that he's only semi-hard. That's extremely odd. It never takes Viggo this long to get an erection; the man has the most powerful libido I've ever seen. I step up my efforts, beginning to wank him with some real vigor and using my free hand to toy with his balls as my own cock is forgotten withing my trousers for a few more minutes.
Maybe I'm doing something wrong here. That must be the problem, since he's usually up and ready to go in no time. But I'm really not doing anything different than usual, so that theory doesn't make much sense. And now his whole body is tensing up like he's upset, which makes me even more worried. Fuck, and his cock is actually deflating like a balloon that's losing its air. What the hell is going on here?
Viggo jerks his body away from mine, looking incredibly uncomfortable and confused. "Um . . . ." He looks at me nervously.
"It's fine," I tell him, not knowing what else to say.
"Orli, I can't get it up," he says simply, disbelief lacing his voice.
"Bollocks. I just have to work harder at my little seduction." I reach for his cock, which is now almost completely soft. "You need to relax, Viggo."
He tries to relax his tense body so that I can do my thing, but it doesn't help. Even though I start stroking him again, I'm getting zero feedback from his normally *very* responsive cock. Deciding to try a new tactic, I slide down the mattress and drag my tongue along the thick length of flesh. Maybe this will energize his listless libido. No, it's not working. His cock isn't getting hard, and he pulls me off of him before grabbing a tissue to clean my saliva from his cock before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans.
"Forget it, okay?" Viggo tells me, sounding angry at himself. "It's just not going to happen right now for some reason." He sits up and runs a distressed hand through his hair.
"Well, why do you think that is?" I sit up also, wrapping my arms around him.
"I don't know, Orli!" he exclaims. "This has never happened to me before."
"Look, don't worry about it. Just do something else," I suggest, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Do you want to go paint for a while?"
"What I wanted to do was have sex, but apparently I can't do that!"
"Maybe your dick is just tired because we have so much sex." Okay, that was dumb. Try *helpful* comments, not idiotic ones.
"I doubt that's a scientific cause of impotency."
"For fuck's sake, Vig," I say with a roll of my eyes. "You're not bloody impotent. You're just having a problem getting a stiffie. This really isn't a big deal, you know. It happens to every guy."
"Oh, really? Has it ever happened to *you*?" he asks accusingly.
"No, but that's different. I'm younger than you are."
Did I actually just say that? I must have, because Viggo is looking at me like I slapped him across the face. What in God's name possessed me to be so stupid? It's not like the age difference is a problem for us, but that comment was practically throwing it in his face. As if he needed some stupid remark from his unhelpful boyfriend after failing to get an erection. He's pulling away from my embrace and getting up of the bed now. This really isn't good. Maybe I should try some damage control.
"I didn't mean it like that," I explain. "It's just that sometimes guys have problems getting erections when they're older." Shit, backtrack! "Not that you're old!" I say hastily. "You're not old at all, but you're older than I am, which is what I meant. I'm sure that it's just this one time and has nothing to do with your age. You're always going to be amazing in bed, no matter how old you are."
"Orlando, stop. I know you're trying to help, but it's not what I need right now." He slips on a pair of moccasins and throws on a tee-shirt.
"Where are you going?" I ask nervously.
"Out. I'll be back later."
"Listen, you don't need to leave. You're upset and maybe you should just stay and talk. I know I'm being an idiot, so I promise to sit and listen to you; I won't open my mouth once," I vow.
"I really need to go out and clear my head. Please, just give me a few hours."
"Of course. Do whatever you need to, Vig." I want him to do whatever it takes so that he's smiling again.
"Thanks."
And with that, he walks out of our room. A few moments later, the door closes and I hear the car pulling out of the driveway. This is not the way I envisioned the afternoon proceeding. I'm not really bothered by Viggo's sexual difficulty, but I am bothered by my own stupid comment and his reaction to it. It was an awful slip of the tongue, something that I should have known better than to say even though it sounded perfectly innocent in my head. But I honestly didn't think it would bother him so much. Is the age difference really still a big deal to him? I thought we had dealt with this non-issue a long time ago.
With a loud sigh, I flop back on the mattress and close my eyes. Good going, Orli. Your boyfriend has one problem and you introduce another one. I need a hug right now. Where's Maude? She'll give me some comfort. I'll hug my dog and then make some dinner for myself. Then I guess I'll just hang around until Viggo comes back so we can talk. Because the last thing I want is to have a problem with him.
*****
It's much later in the evening when I finally hear the front door opening. I hastily collect the relationship journals from their positions lying scattered on the bed next to me; I had been reading them to see if he had made any mention of the age difference bothering him, but there was no real reference to it. As I'm walking over to the bookshelf with the journals, my clumsiness predictably kicks in and I trip over the laundry basket, ending up flat on my face and sending the journals flying.
"Orli? Are you alright?" Viggo flies down the hall and bursts into our bedroom. "I heard a crash; what happened?"
"I tripped over the fucking basket," I mutter as I sit up, realizing how completely idiotic I must look. Apparently he doesn't think so, because he crouches down and brushes a gentle hand over my forehead.
"You're okay?" he asks with concern in his eyes. The unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke in on his clothes and breath, and I immediately know how worked up he was over the whole disaster this afternoon. It takes a certain kind of stress to make him smoke.
"Um, yeah. It's just a little fall. Nothing I don't do every day, right?"
"What's the deal with the relationship journals?" He gestures to the books that are strewn like debris around me.
"I was reading them while you were gone," I explain. Smiling gratefully as he helps me to my feet, I search his face for any sign that he might be upset with me and find none. Oh please, let that be the case.
The journals are quickly returned to the bookshelf and I look tentatively at Viggo, wondering what to say now. Luckily for me, he decides to break the silence. "I'm sorry I just ran off like that. I needed time to think."
"No, it's fine. Really, you were entitled to that. I fucked up, and I said something that was completely idiotic. *I'm* the one who should be apologizing. It was a stupid little slip of the tongue and it came out all wrong. The last thing I wanted to do was make you more upset."
He smiles at me, which makes my heart do several high jumps for joy. "I'm not angry at you, Orli. Okay, I was at first, but I'm not anymore. I know you didn't mean it the way it came out, and I also know you have a tendency to say things before screening them in your head first."
"Yeah, I kind of have a problem with that," I mumble, grinning sheepishly as my body floods with relief at the knowledge that he's not narked anymore.
"Listen, I'm going to go brush my teeth and change my shirt because I know that I reek of cigarettes and you hate that. Then I think we should talk. Does that sound good?"
"It sounds fine." I go back to sit on the bed as he grabs a clean tee-shirt and heads into the bathroom. He's so damned considerate to freshen up like this. When he walks back out of our bathroom, I smile at him and pat the space next to me on the mattress. "Come and sit down." He returns my smile, joining me on the bed. "You smell minty-fresh now," I inform him as I get a whiff of his freshly-brushed teeth.
"Is that so?" Viggo asks, his mouth turning up in amusement.
"Yes, it's much better than the previous smell. Especially since that smell signifies that you were very upset."
He sighs. "I really shouldn't have gotten that upset. It wasn't that big of a deal, right?"
"You tell me," I say softly, taking his hands in mine. "You were upset about two different things this afternoon. Which one are you talking about?"
"So I couldn't get an erection," he shrugs, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "It's a part of life. It's one of those things that happens to your body . . . ." He sighs. "It's one of those things that happens to your body as you get older."
"Oh, Viggo. Is that the problem? You think you're getting old?"
His eyes are downcast as he sighs again. "Sometimes. It certainly felt like it today."
"But that's insane! You're in the prime of your life, for God's sake!"
"Orli, I'm going to be forty-five next week."
"So what?"
"So, you're only twenty-six." Shit. The age difference *is* an issue for him.
"Viggo, I don't see you as 'my older lover'. At the very beginning of our relationship, I worried about you seeing me as a bit immature and maybe too young, but I got over it and realized that you love me for who I am and not how *old* I am. The age difference doesn't matter to me at all," I tell him earnestly. "Does it matter to you?"
"Most of the time I don't think about it at all," he admits. "To paraphrase you, I don't see you as 'my younger lover'. But once in a while, I can't help it -- I think about that nearly twenty-year gap between us. And yeah, I get insecure and worried about it."
"Why?"
"Because . . . fuck, it's stupid."
"Just tell me. Please." I squeeze his hands and give him a smile. "I promise whatever it is, I won't think it's stupid."
He takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid that one day, you'll realize all of a sudden that I'm too old for you."
"And what, you think I'll leave?" I ask, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.
"Well . . . ."
"Viggo, I committed myself to you," I tell him. "How on earth could you think that I'd be so shallow as to leave over something so inconsequential as age?"
"No, I don't *really* think that," he says. His arms come around me as he realizes that I'm upset. "I know you would never do that, but it's this irrational fear. Orli, you're so amazing, so beautiful, so perfect. Even after all this time, I'm still in awe that I'm lucky enough to have you as my partner. And whenever I happen to think about the age issue, I get so insecure about it. That's when I just don't get what a young, sexy, vibrant man like you would want with me."
"And after four years you still need me to spell it out for you?" I look at him with disbelief, wrapping my arms tightly around him. "I love you, Vig. Isn't that enough? I love everything about you. So what if you're not twenty-six? You're vibrant and sexy as hell, you're absolutely beautiful, you're brilliant, you're loving, you're everything I could want. You still will be in ten years and in twenty and in forty. Please tell me that you believe me when I say this: *nothing* will ever make me stop loving you, least of all your age."
"I believe you," he says, giving me a small smile.
"Good."
"Can I ask a question, though? What about if I start having, uh, physical problems like the one I had this afternoon on a more regular basis?" Viggo asks, blushing deeply.
"We'll find some way to deal with it. It's not like sex is the most important part of our relationship. Our connection isn't based on what happens between the sheets, it's based on something deeper than that. Besides, I'm not worried about it; I'm sure that this afternoon was an exception."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You've got a super-powered sex drive, old man," I laugh. Fuck, I opened my big mouth again! Maybe we need to get rid of the 'old man' nickname. But Viggo just laughs and kisses me again, this time on my mouth. "Um, does that nickname bug you?" I ask, wanting to make sure it's still okay to use.
"As long as you don't use it on my birthday, I adore it," he assures me. "After all, it's all in good fun, my little Love Pig."
"Is there anything else that bothers you about the whole age thing?" I want to make sure the entire issue has been discussed before we leave it alone. We don't need this coming back to bite us again.
"Sometimes I worry that . . . ." He takes a deep breath and his gaze holds me in place. "What if I get sick with a disease when I'm in my sixties? Or I have a heart attack at that age? What if I leave you alone when you're still only in your forties? My God, I can't bear the thought of making you hurt like that."
I push down the sudden feeling of crushing fear at his words and kiss him soundly. "Viggo, if that's the way life is going to go, there's nothing you or I will be able to do about it," I say. "But you don't know that and neither do I. You could live to be ninety-five years old and be completely healthy for decades. Or I could be the one who leaves you all alone by dying tomorrow in an auto crash."
"Jesus, don't say that!" he exclaims. Oops. I wonder if there's a cure for foot-in-mouth disease.
"Look, what matters is that we're together now and that we're going to be together for as long as is humanly possible. Let's just make the most of it."
He smiles and brushes back an errant curl from my eyes. "Okay. That's what we'll do."
"So we're good now?"
That smile widens, making my heart skip a beat or two. "We're great," he murmurs.
*****
A FEW HOURS LATER
Why on earth am I waking up in the middle of the night? I peer blearily at the bedside clock and groan when I see that it's four in the morning, knowing that it'll take me a while to get back to sleep now. This sucks. Seeking some warmth, I pull the blankets tighter against my body and snuggle back against Viggo, who's spooned behind me.
He lets out a soft moan that tickles my neck, then slides his hips forward. Whoa, is he asleep? I turn my head around to confirm that his eyes are still shut and his face has that lovely serene look that it gets when he's deep in slumber. Feeling a bit naughty, I snuggle against him again. Okay, this time it's not so much snuggling as it is shamelessly pushing my arse into his crotch and then rotating it a bit.
That gets him going. His cock immediately comes to life, straining against the thin material of his boxers. One of his arms comes around my waist, holding me in place while he grinds his hips. My breath becomes ragged as I feel his now-erect cock pushing at the cleft of my arse through the combined layers of our underwear; how is it possible that he hasn't woken up yet? I have to rectify that, because he can only fuck me if he's awake and that's exactly what I want him to do.
It isn't easy, but I manage to break away from his iron-like embrace. Viggo is an incredibly deep sleeper, so waking him is always a difficult task. "Hey," I whisper, dragging my tongue along the curve of his ear. "Wake up, Vig."
"Mmph," he grunts.
"Come on, there's fun to be had. A lot of it." I'm efficiently stripping off my clothes as I try to lure him out of his dreamworld. I reach into his boxers and pull out his cock, grinning widely when I see how hard he is. You could break bricks on this erection. Erectile difficulty? What erectile difficulty? "Viggo Mortensen, wake up so you can fuck me into oblivion," I command, raising my voice in an effort to reach my slumbering love.
"Huh?" Yeah, that worked. One eye cracks open and looks up at me. "Orli? Why are you naked?"
"Do I ever need a reason?"
"Not really," he chuckles. His voice is nice and throaty from sleep, which always drives me wild.
"We were doing a nice bump and grind in bed, but the only problem was that you were fast asleep. I thought I'd get naked, wake you up, and take it one step further," I explain as I turn on a lamp so I can see him in all his beauty.
"I thought it was a dream," he says with a lazy smile.
"It was no dream; it was very real, and you're *very* hard. I told you that you'd have nothing to worry about." I gesture to his erection, causing him to laugh slightly. "Now get naked so you can fuck me."
His eyes instantly take on a predatory gleam at my words, and I watch with a grin as his clothes are torn off. As he's busy grabbing the lube, I quickly position myself on my back with my knees drawn all the way up to my chest, opening myself up completely to him. I can only imagine how shameless I look right now, but I don't really care. My studmuffin boyfriend is back in business, and I couldn't be happier or hornier.
"Are you ready," I ask, watching as he prepares himself.
"Yeah. God, you have no clue how sexy you look like that," he gasps. One of his hands slides up the back of my thigh while the other caresses my spread arse cheeks, two slick fingers finding my entrance and easily sliding in.
"More," I moan, pushing my hips back at him when those fingers expertly curl to find my prostate. It feels wonderful, but I need something else. "Viggo, please . . . I need you to fuck me *now*."
Viggo groans and removes his fingers, positioning his rock-hard cock right at my entrance. His strong hands rearrange our position so that my legs are now draped over his shoulders, which only makes his dripping erection nudge at my hole even more. "So you want me to fuck you, Orli?" he purrs. Shit, he wants me to beg for it. Well, I'm not above doing that.
"Please," I whimper. "I need your hard cock filling me up and making me come. Make me scream your name, make me beg for more--"
My little tirade is cut off as his mouth crushes mine for a blissful kiss. A moment later, I let out a muffled wail as his cock plunges into my body, indeed filling me up just like I wanted. There's no feeling in the world like having him inside of me, and I thrust my tongue eagerly into his mouth to show him just how much I appreciate what we're doing right now. The kisses continue as he starts a devastating rhythm of thrusts that steals our breath, forcing us to eventually wrench our mouths apart so we can get some air.
"Is this what you wanted?" Viggo gasps, his hands slightly slippery with sweat as they grip my hips.
"Yes," I moan. "God, it feels amazing having your cock inside of me. I love it when you fuck me like this, hard and fast without any mercy."
"You feel incredible Orli -- so fucking hot and tight. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" I know exactly what I do to him, and it still makes me shiver every time I see such unabashed lust on his face. The fact that I'm the recipient of Viggo Mortensen's lust and love makes me the luckiest guy in the world. I get to be shagged senseless *and* cuddle with the filthy human afterwards.
He keeps up his relentless thrusts, driving across my prostate and making me rocket off the bed. I reach up with one hand to bring him down for another kiss, our tongues swirling together and breath mingling as he continues to plunge in and out of me. My fingers play with the short strands of his hair while my other hand travels down to grip my own achingly hard cock, which is lying against my stomach, trickling precome. While his tongue ravishes my mouth and his cock delivers thrust after thrust, I start to stroke myself with firm movements.
I can feel Viggo's erection pulsing inside of me, and its throbbing heat is making me even more aroused. It's as if he's reaching every part of me with his thrusts, setting me on fire, and I'm moaning constantly into our kisses. When he pulls his mouth away and throws his head back to let out a loud cry, I gasp at how bloody gorgeous he looks in the low light of the room, the shape of his open mouth absolutely mesmerizing to me.
The bed starts to creak slightly as his pace gets even more intense, making me cry out with every perfectly placed drive into my arse. There's no way that this afternoon's little mishap did anything to damage my lover's status as a Sex God. All of my senses seem heightened as waves of pure pleasure course through me; I'm getting very close to coming, and we both know it. When Viggo's hand joins mine on my cock, helping me to wank myself, it pushes me over the edge and brings me to orgasm.
My release spills over our linked hands and my stomach, and I cry out his name while abandoning myself to the sensations of the climax. Viggo reaches for our hands and cleans them both with his tongue, making me shudder at the feeling of hot slickness gliding over my skin. He's still thrusting like mad into me, but his movements are getting a little bit more frantic. Sensing that he's approaching his own climax, I clench my muscles around him and watch with a grin as his eyes glaze over.
"Come on, Vig," I say breathlessly. "You've given me an incredible shag. Now let yourself go. I want to feel your come inside of me; do that for me, please," I beg, clamping down on him again.
"Fuck . . . Orli!" he wails. With one last hard thrust, he comes deep within me. My legs slide off of his shoulders as he practically melts on top of me, as spent as I am from our spontaneous lovemaking. We lie there for God-knows-how-long, just content to catch our breath, hold each other, and lie there contentedly.
Finally, Viggo slides off of me and reaches for the wet-naps so we can clean up our little mess. Once that's done, we put our boxers back on, pull up the blankets, turn off the lamp, and settle back into a nice, comfy, sleeping position. I kiss his neck, feeling his arms tighten around me in response. "Man, am I glad that I woke up for no reason," I murmur.
He laughs. "Yeah, so am I."
"So tell me, is your crisis of sexual confidence over?" I ask, looking at him in the darkness of the room.
"It sure is."
"Good, because you're an absolute stud."
"I am?" he snorts.
"Hell yeah! Do my moans and screams mean nothing to you?"
"Well, I love that you're vocal," he chuckles. "It's really quite a turn-on to have such an enthusiastic lover." He leans in to kiss me gently, his hand tracing an invisible pattern on my hip. When he pulls away from my mouth, I inadvertently let out a large yawn. Yes, I can be very romantic. Viggo just laughs again and holds me a little closer. "Get some sleep, Orli."
"Mmm, okay."
"I love you," he says softly.
"I love you, too." I press a kiss to his shoulder and close my
eyes with a smile, simply happy to be in his embrace.
