TITLE: Some KInd of Heaven (9/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: https://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Long distance lust (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's a giddy little thrill at a reasonable price
WARNINGS: Smut, coarse language, toys
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: BTF, LBES, Lothlorien, my site; all others please ask, but
I'll surely say yes
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Mia for her help with the summary, and to
Losti and Liz for their indispensable wisdom and love
DATE WRITTEN: July 1st, 2003
I sigh in dismay when the phone rings. Great. Just when I finally find the time to read the book I bought last month, someone decides to interrupt me. If it's a telemarketer, I might be compelled to throw the phone out the window.
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Orli?" I immediately sit up and let the book drop to the floor. "Are you okay? Aren't you supposed to be filming today?"
"Calm down, old man," he laughs. "I'm fine. It's pouring here, and we had to cancel filming because it was outdoors"
"Oh, okay."
"What time is it back in L.A.? I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, you didn't wake me. It's about nine-thirty at night."
"How was your day?"
"Boring and lonely," I sigh.
"Isn't Henry there with you?"
"He's spending the night at a friend's house for the second night in a row. Apparently I'm not cool enough for him."
"Well, you're cool enough for me," he says.
"Thank you, love."
"You're welcome."
"So what are you going to do with the rest of your day now that filming's been called off?"
"I don't know. I guess I'll just laze around here for a while and watch the raindrops slide down the window of my hotel room."
"Sounds exciting. Might I suggest an alternate mode of entertainment?"
"Does it involve nudity?"
"Yes it does," I chuckle.
"Then I'm up for it."
"You're up already? Wow, that was quick -- we haven't even started yet."
"Oh, piss off," he laughs. "You know what I mean. Now put me on speaker phone." I grin and transfer Orli to speaker phone. He insisted that we get one for the bedroom before he left for Australia, and it really does make all the difference in facilitating phone sex. "Now," he orders after I've transferred him, "get naked. And describe every move."
"What about you?"
"I've got my shirt off and my jeans and boxers pushed down to my knees. My cock is in one hand, the phone is in the other. But this isn't about me, Viggo. All I care about is making you beg for me."
A shiver passes through my body when I hear the dominant tone in his voice. I'm more than happy to let him take charge tonight. "You want to make me beg, Orli?"
"I'm *going* to make you beg."
"And how do you plan on doing that?"
"First of all, take off your clothes slowly. And tell me what you're wearing."
"Okay, well first I'm taking off my socks. They're black. Now my shirt."
"What shirt are you wearing?"
"Just a black button-down tee-shirt. I'm unbuttoning it now."
"Nice. You look sexy in black, Viggo. Of course, you look sexy in every color. What about your jeans? Are they tight enough that they show off that perfect arse?"
"They're the ones I wore the day you left," I tell him as I let my unbuttoned shirt fall to the floor.
"I love those jeans," he purrs. "Do you know how hard it was to leave for the airport when all I wanted to do was unzip those jeans and drop to my knees in front of you? You look incredible in them, but I like you even better when you're out of them and your hard cock is sitting right there for me to suck."
My brain is flooded by images of him on his knees, working some kind of special Orli-magic on my cock, and I stifle a groan. "I'm taking the jeans off," I manage to say.
"Underwear?"
"Those faded maroon boxers."
"The ones that you've had forever and refuse to get rid of?"
"Yes," I laugh as I take off the last item of clothing. "And now I'm naked."
"Good. Just the way I like you. Where are you?"
"I'm on the bed now," I say as I sit down on the mattress.
"Are you hard yet?"
"I'm getting there."
"Then I'll have to step up my efforts. I want you to be dripping for me, Vig. Touch yourself for me -- but no contact with your cock. And don't even think about cheating; I'll know if you do because I know every sound you make in bed." Damn. "Tell me what you're doing."
"I'm skimming my fingers over my nipples. I'm pinching one of them a bit."
"Nice. Pretend your hand is my mouth. Everywhere you touch yourself, that's where I'd be licking and sucking you." I groan at the thought of Orli sucking at my nipples, teasing them with his teeth. "That's right, it feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes." I pinch my nipple again and feel my cock jump. "God, I'm hard now; my cock is aching for you. Do you have any idea what you do to me, Orli?"
"I know, Vig," he says with a throaty chuckle. "You do the same thing to me. I'm so bloody hard just from listening to you."
"My hands are moving down to my stomach--"
"Don't touch your dick," he interrupts.
"I'm not going to," I laugh. "I'm going to touch my balls."
"What?!"
"You never said anything about not touching my balls," I remind him as I gently roll them in my palm.
"You cheeky bastard," he admonishes. "You'll pay for that."
"I certainly hope so."
"Okay then, stop touching yourself right now."
"Wait, you can't make me--"
"Oh, yes I can."
"But I was playing by the rules!" I exclaim, clenching my now-idle hands into fists.
"It doesn't matter. I'm in charge here."
"What should I do then?" I ask, deciding not to question him any further.
"Tell me how much you want this. Tell me that you *need* it. Then I'll give you what you want." Holy fucking hell, I love it when Orli brings out his dominant streak. "Tell me," he says again.
"I need it so badly," I tell him. "My cock is hard as hell, and I would give anything to have you here. Please Orli, don't tease me like this." Shit. Why did I ask him *not* to tease me? Now that's all he'll do.
"Get the lube out, Viggo."
"The lube?" I repeat dumbly.
"Yes, the lube. Get it out and coat your fingers."
I yank open the nightstand drawer and quickly grab the familiar tube. "Okay," I say when I've covered my fingers with the gel.
"Good. Now spread your legs wide; as wide as they can go. Then slide your hand down and put one finger into yourself. And you still can't touch your cock."
I give him the finger (not a lubed one), knowing that I'm safe since he can't see it. "Okay, I'm not touching my cock," I report dutifully. "And now I'm putting a finger in." Oh man, does that feel good.
"You must be really tight, Vig," he says. "How long has it been since I've fucked you?"
"Uh . . ." It's hard to think right now. "About a month," I say.
"Yeah, you probably need to be stretched. Give yourself another finger." I obediently add a second finger. "And don't touch your prostate."
"What?!" I yelp.
The bastard just laughs. "That's right. Don't touch your prostate."
"Orli, I can't--"
"Trust me, old man. It'll be worth it." He's doing that thing again where his voice sounds like it's purring, and I relent. He knows I can't resist the purr.
"Fine." I do as he bids, fucking myself on my fingers, but without that crucial element being in play. It's nice, but really nothing special. I almost feel like humming distractedly just to annoy him, but I don't think I can take much more retribution.
"Give yourself a third finger," he urges.
"Can I touch--"
"No." I add the third finger and continue opening myself, wondering when the hell he's going to stop being sadistic and just let me come. "Now," he says after a while, "get our favorite blue vibrator our and lube it up." The vibrator. God, I love how Orli's mind works.
I nearly break the nightstand in my haste to retrieve the vibrator from its drawer. Ignoring the chuckles coming from the speaker phone, I quickly spread lube over the dildo and get back into position. "Okay," I say breathlessly. "I'm ready."
"So I gathered." His voice is a bit less steady, and I smile at the knowledge that this is affecting him, too. "Slowly slide it into yourself, Vig. *Slowly*."
I groan loudly as the dildo enters me, pushing my hips down to further suck it in. Fuck, this is is wonderful. "Orli . . ."
"Feel good?" he asks.
"Yes."
"But you still want more, don't you?"
"Please, Orli," I beg, abandoning the last vestiges of my pride. "Please love. Don't tease me anymore."
"Alright," he says, and I can picture the irritating smirk he's probably wearing. "Take it out and sit up on your knees. Can do you it in that position?"
"Of course I can." I adjust my position so I'm kneeling on the mattress with my legs spread just wide enough so that I can maneuver the dildo. "Okay, ready."
"Good. Switch on the vibrator and fuck yourself hard with it." It feels like I've been given permission to drink water after a week in the desert. I turn the vibrator on and grin at the buzzing sound. Yes, Viggo Mortensen, published poet and movie star, is about to fuck himself with a vibrator.
God, it feels amazing when it reenters my body, the vibrations making all the difference. "Can I touch my prostate?" I ask, realizing he hasn't actually given me permission to do that yet.
Orli laughs. "Please."
I angle the vibrator just so that I brushes against my prostate, and I nearly scream from the pleasure. All that teasing, all that waiting -- it's worth it as I relentlessly work the dildo in and out of me, trying to pass over *that* spot as much as possible. "Oh, fuck," I moan, gasping as the vibrations hit my prostate and the effects ripple through my body.
"I can only imagine how sexy you look, Vig. On your knees, pleasuring yourself just the way I'm telling you to. God, and I bet you're so hard."
"So hard," I agree. "So hard for you, Orli."
"Do you want to know what I'd do to you if I were there?"
"Yes," I gasp as I turn the intensity of the thrusts up a notch.
"I'd lie on the bed and get you on your knees, just like you are now. And then I'd have you ride my cock." I groan from his words. "It'd be slow at first, but soon we'd both need it so badly and you'd be rocking on me like mad. I'd be so fucking hard as you rode me, and your cock would be absolutely dripping."
"More," I beg. "Tell me more."
"Greedy," he mocks. I can tell from his erratic breathing that he's jacking off. "You'd fuck yourself hard on me, and I'd be buried deep inside of you, trapped by the tightness of your arse. You'd feel so good, Viggo. Your heat surrounding me, muscles clenching around my dick as you ride it."
"Oh, fuck," I whimper.
"Viggo, take the dildo out," Orli instructs.
"What?" He can't be serious.
"Do it, Vig." I obey his orders. "Now lie down and stroke yourself for me."
I fall back on the mattress, wrapping a hand around my long-neglected erection. Fuck, that feels like heaven. "Orli," I hiss.
"I know. It feels wonderful, doesn't it? I love you touch your cock, Vig. I love to have it in my hand and make you moan for me." As if on cue, I moan loudly. "Just like that. You sound so bloody sexy when you let yourself go. I'm barely touching myself right now; I'm getting off from listening to your fucking voice."
"Please," I whisper. I want more of him, more of his words.
"And you'd still be riding me, Viggo. Fucking yourself on my throbbing cock while you brought yourself off with your hand. I wouldn't be able to stand it, and I'd come inside of you, crying out your name." I gasp from the thought of being filled with Orli's warmth. "Then you'd come, too -- all over your fingers. And I'd take your fingers and suck them, licking the come off so I can taste you."
Fuck. That's it. I come with a shout, Orli's name escaping my lips along with a gasping sob of pleasure. My body shakes and shivers as my come spills over the hand around my cock; I can hear Orli reaching his own climax, his familiar moans and whimpers filling our bedroom once again.
"Viggo?" he asks in a shaky voice after a few moments.
"I'm here, love. That was amazing."
"Yeah? I wasn't too cruel?"
"Not at all," I chuckle, sitting up and rummaging around for the wet-naps so I can clean myself off. "You know I love it when you take charge like that. It's sexy as hell."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"I definitely did. So you have no plans for the rest of the day?"
"None whatsoever."
"Would you care to talk to your boyfriend until he passes out from fatigue?"
"I'd love to," Orli says, and I know that he's grinning.
"Great." I find my boxers and put them back on before slipping under the covers; I transfer him off of speaker phone and hold the receiver close to my ear. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah."
"I miss you," I say suddenly.
"I miss you, too. This is a great movie to work on, and everyone's been really wonderful, but still . . . I just wish I could be with you."
"You'll be back before you know it," I tell him, holding the blanket close to my body for some extra comfort.
"You know what I want to do the first day I'm back home?"
"What?"
"Just lie in bed with you. We'll sleep, we'll shag, we'll talk, we'll do whatever we want, but neither of us is leaving that bed."
"Sounds like a plan," I say with a smile.
"Good. And if you even think of changing your mind, I might just have to tie you to the bed."
I laugh loudly. "Now *that* sounds like an even better plan."
