Military fatigues are *so* much better than an elf costume. No wig, no ears, no blue contacts, no tight-as-sin leggings, and so on. There's no torturous Helm's Deep shoot here, no Elvish to master, no imaginary cave trolls to fight. Of course, there was one incomparable perk about being an elf -- my favorite scruffy ranger was always by my side.
It's really very odd to be on another movie set after spending countless months in New Zealand as part of a Fellowship of actors that became a family. Everything is so much more detached and businesslike here, and although I'm proud to be a part of 'Black Hawk Down', it's a jarring contrast from the relaxed camaraderie of 'Lord of the Rings'. Still, people like Ewan McGregor and Josh Hartnett have been incredibly nice, and Ridley Scott surprised me by asking what my impressions were of working with Viggo. Ridley directed him in 'GI Jane' and is a big fan; I just told him that he taught me an incredible amount about acting.
The sun is setting, which means that our window of opportunity has passed for the outdoor shots Ridley wants to do. I smile and sit down in an empty chair, wanting nothing more than to go back to my hotel room and ring Viggo. Granted, I spoke to him this morning, but I can never get enough of his voice. He could read the phone book to me and I'd still find it fascinating.
"Thinking about someone?"
I look up to find Ria, one of the crew members, giving me a friendly smile. "That obvious, huh?"
"You had a goofy look on your face."
"Damn, I'll have to get better at hiding that."
"It was cute, Orlando. Your girlfriend's pretty lucky."
Girlfriend. Right. "Thanks. Well, if I were still on the market, I'd be flirting up a storm with you, sweetheart." One of my missions while here is to get Ria a date with another crew member; she's such a sweet girl and God knows she's pretty enough with that lovely brown hair.
"You'd just break my heart," she laughs.
"Probably." I wink at her. "I'm gonna get going. I have to call my better half." I can't lie and say 'girlfriend', so that'll just have to do. God, I wish I could just say 'boyfriend', but I remind myself that we'll be ready for that in due time.
*****
"Hello?" I grin as I hear Viggo's voice come out of the speaker phone.
"Hey, it's me. Did I wake you?"
"It's eleven in the morning, Orli."
"Oh, well good. I'm terrible at figuring out time differences."
"So I've gathered." Viggo laughs and my grin widens.
"How's your day been so far?"
"Fine. I drove Henry to school and he was freaking out about a big test he had. I told him he'll be fine. My plans for today were just to paint, so I'm very happy that you called."
"Why's that?"
"You always inspire me."
"Make me cry, why don't you?" I saw with a little laugh. Stupid sentimental wanker.
"Mock me if you must."
"I must. Hey Vig, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, love."
"What are you wearing?"
I hear a low, throaty chuckle at the other end of the line that makes me shiver. "So were's in *that* kind of a mood, are we?"
"When am I *not* in that kind of mood?"
"Didn't we just have phone sex fourteen hours ago? You're insatiable, Orli."
"Of course I am -- you're a sexy bitch. Now answer my question."
"Jeans and an old tee-shirt. No shoes or socks. And you?"
"I'm already naked."
Viggo laughs hard at that comment. "How presumptous of you."
"Well everyone knows you're an easy lay, Vig."
"Mmm. Is that so? How do you plan on getting me into bed this time?" He's immediately slipped into *that* voice, the one that could make a monk give up celibacy. "I might be easy, but I still like to be seduced."
"Is it my turn to think up something?"
"Yeah. Do you already have an idea, love?"
"Of course I do. I spent all day between takes trying to come up with an idea."
"So go ahead."
"Okay, well we're still in New Zealand. It has to be there because I don't know what your house looks like."
"That's fine, Orli."
"So you're sitting in the living room, reading some Danish poetry or something." I ignore his chuckling. "And you're not wearing a shirt, you're only wearing jeans. Which means you have to take off your shirt now."
Viggo puts the phone down and I hear the sound of clothing being removed. "I'm back," he tells me. "Only wearing my jeans." Christ, what a great mental picture he just gave me. I want to touch myself but we both know that's not how this works.
"I'm naked and horny for no apparent reason."
"Sounds familiar."
"Shut up and listen, you cunt. Now, I come into the room and see you looking absolutely edible on that hideous couch, and I can't help myself. I sit on your lap, straddling your legs, and toss the book to the floor. You could protest, but you don't want to."
"Well, when the options are having sex with you and reading poetry, I'll go with the sex every time," he assures me.
"I know," I say with a smirk. "I kiss you -- not gently, but like I'm bloody starving for you. My hands run over your chest, teasing you. Do that for me, Viggo. Pretend it's me." His breathing hitches a bit, making me smile. "I slide off your lap and onto my knees on the floor, kissing my way down to your nipples and biting them just enough to make you gasp."
"You always do that so well, love," Viggo murmurs in a low voice.
"Are you still touching yourself?"
"Of course."
"Good. My mouth moves lower, dipping into your belly-button and then following that trail of hair down to the top of your jeans. I undo the button and then wink before dragging the zipper down with my teeth."
"Christ . . ."
"What does your underwear look like, Vig?"
"I'm not wearing any," he admits.
"You're such a slut," I laugh. "Take off your jeans now." He puts the phone down again and obeys. "Your cock is right in front of my face. I could tease you, but I want you in my mouth *now*. So I start sucking you, lapping up the precum that's leaking because you're already so fucking hard. Is that the way you are now, Viggo?"
"God, yes. So fucking hard for you."
"My free hand is beginning to stroke myself." I act out exactly what I'm narrating, starting a slow rhythm on my erection that won't make me come quickly. "Meanwhile my mouth is all around you, Vig. I'm taking you deep, all the way in, which isn't easy since you're so fucking big. You're trying so hard not to let go and just fuck my mouth." He moans. "I make a spiral around your cock with my tongue and kiss the head before moving to kiss your balls. First one, then the other."
"Shit, you're gonna kill me," he groans.
"But I don't want either one of us to come yet, so I pull away. It's killing both of us, but I have to go grab some lube."
"No you don't, babe. My cock's already so slick from your mouth and I know you can take it."
I shudder at his words. "What makes you think *you're* going to be inside of *me*?"
"Because I say so." Bloody hell. Dominant Viggo is here, which always makes me hornier than anything. "I need to get you open, though. I pull you up onto the couch and have you kneel on the cushions with your hands on the armrest. You're so fucking open like this, so willing to do what I want. I lick you open, knowing what that does to you."
The bastard knows *exactly* what that does to me, and just thinking about it makes my cock do a little happy dance. "God . . . Viggo . . ."
"My tongue is moving inside of you, loosening you up. I reach around and give you three of my fingers to suck on. Now suck your own fingers, Orlando. Make them wet for yourself." Fighting back a whimper, I do as he asks, wishing that they were really his fingers with their familiar warmth and the occasional two-day-old paint stain. "When they're good and ready, I want you to slide just one finger in."
Still lying on my back, I trail my glistening fingers down my chest and over sensitized nipples. I avoid direct contact with my cock, afraid of coming too soon. The first finger slides in easily, making me moan softly. "More?" I ask.
"Add a second finger, love. Stretch yourself, but don't touch your prostate."
"You wanker," I say in an unsteady voice.
"Exactly." He's smirking, I just know it. "When you're open enough, put in three fingers. Pretend that's my cock, Orli. That it's me sliding into you from behind."
Even though my position on the bed is different from the one in the fantasy, I swear to God it feels as if I'm with him. "How are you fucking me, Viggo?"
"Hard," he gasps, and his breath is ragged.
"Yes," I hiss, moving my fingers in and out of my body, not daring to imagine how wanton I must look right now.
"One of my hands is on your shoulder and the other one is reaching around to grab your cock. Touch yourself, Orli. I know you can do it, you've got me on speaker phone."
"Yeah. God, it feels good, Vig." It really does. The only thing that would make it perfect is if . . . well, if it were actually Viggo doing this to me.
"Your back is arching downwards and your head is thrown back. You're making all those little whimpering sounds that mean you're close to letting go and just screaming. You have no idea how incredible you feel around me, love. So tight and familiar . . . fuck, it's beautiful."
Sure enough, I'm whimpering. Why does the man have to be the personification of sex appeal? Doesn't he know that's dangerous to my health? "V-Viggo? I'm close."
"Me, too." His voice is shaky, and I know from experience that his eyes are darker than usual and his mouth is slightly open. "I'm in the studio right now, love. And there's a picture here of you . . . just some random picture I took on-set. God, your eyes! I'm looking into your fucking eyes even though you're not here."
"Oh, shit . . ."
"But you're still on that couch, Orli, and you're shaking under me, begging me to just finish it already."
"Please," I moan, my fingers falling out of my body so I can concentrate solely on the hand working furiously on my cock.
"So I lose control and just start pounding." His breath is coming in short bursts. Yeah, he's close, too. "And you're still so fucking tight around me, Orli. Jesus Christ, just come with me, love. Now, please!"
I pinch a nipple and jerk my hand on my cock, which is enough to make me come all over my stomach. "Viggo!" I shout, tremors wracking my body.
"Orli . . ." The ragged gasp tells me that he's coming as well, and I hear the phone drop to the floor. I'm too spent to laugh. "Sorry," he stammers a moment later.
"You have to get a speaker phone," I say wearily.
"Yeah, I'll go into Radio Shack and ask which model is best for phone sexy with my boyfriend," he laughs.
I giggle a little too girlishly and grab some tissues off the bedside table so I can clean myself "You're not supposed to take control of my fantasies like that, Viggo."
"Couldn't help myself."
"Mmm, I'm glad." We both laugh. "There's one definite upside to your telling of the story, though."
"Well, if you think about the position, it's possible that I'd come directly onto that horrid couch, which would certainly improve the design."
Viggo laughs loudly. "It'd be an interesting stain to try and explain to the security deposit people."
"Just tell them the truth. 'This happened when I fucked the sexy little arse of my irresistibly hot boyfriend.'"
"You *do* have a sexy little 'arse,'" he muses.
"Damned straight," I say proudly.
"I don't think the word 'straight' should be used in this conversation," he teases. "And I can't wait to get my hands on you for real."
"Two more weeks until I come visit you in L.A."
"Yeah, and then we have Cannes next month. We'll get to see some of 'Fellowship' there, which should be amazing."
"And we'll make love . . . Riviera style."
"Whatever that entails, I'm sure we'll do it," he assures me.
"I miss you, Vig."
"I miss you, too. It won't be that long until I see you again."
"I'm counting the days."
"So am I, love."
"I guess I should take a shower. I'm still kind of sticky and sweaty."
"Thanks for sharing."
"Piss off, old man," I laugh.
"I love you, Orli." My entire body feels warm from his heartfelt words.
"Love you too, Viggo. Love you so much."
"I'll speak to you soon."
"Yeah. Bye, Vig."
"Goodbye."
I press the button on the speaker phone and the room is filled with an unnerving silence. After debating whether or not it's a good idea, I dial his number once more. "Hey, it's me again."
"What's the matter, Orli?" Viggo asks with concern.
"Nothing, I just . . . I'm lonely. It's not the same as it was in New Zealand."
"I've got an idea. Take your shower so you're not rivaling Aragorn in pungency, and then call me back. I'll talk to you until the sun comes up if you want."
"Thank you."
"Hey, it's the least I can do. Go get clean, love. I'll be here when you're done."
"Okay."
As I step into the shower, I sigh with happiness. I'll probably
be on the phone with Viggo for six hour tonight and rack up horrendous
long-distance charges, but I don't care. My favorite scruffy ranger
will be by my side for tonight.
