TITLE: Rewarded (8/?)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Putting on a show
FEEDBACK: It's the sauce on my steak, it's the cheese in my cake
WARNINGS: Toys, exhibitionism/voyeurism, coarse language
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my *twisted* imagination
ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends
DATE WRITTEN: August 30th, 2003
Okay, I successfully managed not to kill myself driving to Viggo's house despite the fact that I'm sure I broke at least a dozen traffic laws in my haste to get here. Go me! Yes, I know that I shouldn't put my safety in jeopardy for the sake of my libido, but you're talking to a 23-year-old guy here.
To be honest, Viggo hasn't been as kinky as usual this past week. The three times we've found the time to get together, it's been nothing more than the fuck-me-suck-me stuff. There hasn't been any spanking, any tying me to the headboard, or any of that. And don't get me wrong -- I *love* the fuck-me-suck-me action, but I'm all but dying for him to spice things up a little and I'm hoping that'll happen tonight. Give it to me, Viggo. I can handle it.
"That was fast," Viggo laughs when he answers the door.
I grin at him. "Well, I'm enthusiastic."
"That's something I've definitely noticed about you." He grabs me and pulls me into the house, dragging me to the bedroom. "Now," he says, pushing me roughly onto the bed, "get naked."
I eagerly comply as he begins to strip off his own clothes, licking my lips a little when that luscious body is fully revealed to me. When the last article of my clothing has been thrown on the floor, I scoot back up to the headboard and wait for him to join me on the bed. He practically jumps onto the mattress and straddles me, his tongue forcefully invading my mouth and making me moan into the kiss. Oh, thank God we're not wasting any time tonight.
"You're so beautiful, my slut," he purrs, his tongue flicking my earlobe. "Every time I see you, it gives me such a sense of pride that you're mine. You walk around the set and everyone wants you, but I'm the only one who can fuck that sweet ass."
"Yes, only you," I gasp. His cock slides against mine, and I shiver at the thought of that delicious length of flesh being buried in my arse or mouth.
"You don't even know how many people want to fuck you, Orli," he tells me as he slithers down my body so his breath is wafting over my balls. I whimper as he treats each sac to a little lick. "You're such a tease, flirting with everyone . . . I bet half the cast and crew gets off to the thought of tying you naked to a bed."
"You're exaggerating," I manage to say, twisting my fingers in the sheets when his tongue circles my hole.
"No, I'm not. They dream about you, Orli; they all do." Without warning, his tongue stabs deep into me.
"Oh, holy shit!" I moan and writhe as usual as he begins to give me a proper tongue-fucking. But for some reason, Viggo stops completely after a few moments of the good stuff. Come on, that's not fair!
"What do *you* dream about?" he purrs, his mouth suddenly close to my ear again.
"I dream about you finishing the job," I snap, momentarily forgetting myself.
To my surprise, Viggo laughs loudly instead of getting angry. "You really are adorable, do you know that?" Adorable? Ooh, that man really makes my blood boil sometimes.
"I'm sorry, Viggo," I say with the requisite remorse in my voice. "That was my body talking, not my brain."
"Your brain *is* part of your body." Cheeky. "And I stopped because there's something I want you to do for me."
I smile at him. "Anything, Viggo. Tell your whore what you need."
He pulls away from me and gets off of the bed, pushing the comfy chair in the corner close to the bed and lazily sitting down in it. "Touch yourself, Orli; stroke your cock."
"Y-you want me to wank in front of you?"
"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"
"It's like a sacret ritual, man!"
Viggo laughs even harder than he did before. "No, it's not; it's simply masturbation. And I want to watch. I want you to make yourself come for me, Orlando," he tells me in a voice that oozes sex. "Wrap those hands around that gorgeous cock of yours and stroke it. That's it," he says as I tentatively grasp the base of my cock. "Run your hands up and down."
"I bloody well know how to jack off," I inform him. "I've been doing it for ten years."
"Then do it and stop acting like a nervous virgin," he chuckles, leaning back in the chair.
I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid, and instead concentrate on wanking. I don't really get why Viggo finds this so sexy; to me, this has always been a method of last resort when there's no partner to be found. Looking over at him, I see his blue eyes watching me intently while his own hands begin to stray over his body. Why the hell are we pleasuring ourselves when we're both here naked and next to each other? Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this picture?
"You're so fucking beautiful," he rasps, his voice flowing over me as I reach down to roll my balls with one hand. "Such a whore, pleasuring yourself for me like this. Tell me what you're thinking of, what you dream of when we're apart."
I shiver and close my eyes, envisioning the multitude of masturbation scenarios I've cooked up. "I think of you doing everything to me. I think of you throwing me over your lap and spanking me until tears are dripping down my face and my cock is so hard that I think I'll fucking explode. Then you tie me to the bed and fuck my arse until I can't breathe anymore before snogging my hole so that you can taste your own come," I gasp, my hand twisting and squeezing around my cock.
"You want to get fucked?" he asks in a low voice, standing up and walking over to the corner where his box of sex toys is. The box I've never dared to open.
"Yes," I whimper. "Please, fuck me." How many times have I said that phrase in the last two months? I've lost count.
"Oh, you'll get fucked, Orlando. But not the way you're thinking of." His hand emerges from the box holding a dildo, and my eyes widen. I might have also let out a squeak, but I can't be sure of that. Okay, so the dildo isn't very big (at least not in comparison to Viggo's cock), but why one earth does he even need one?
"Uh, Viggo?" I ask, my hand falling off of my cock as I forget my mission of masturbation. "What's that for?"
He hands me the dildo and some lube. "I want to watch you use it." Viggo sits back down in the chair, his eyes raking over my body. "Fuck yourself with it, Orli. Use your fingers first, then give yourself a good fucking with the dildo."
I'm sure I must have a very comical expression on my face right now. "O-okay. I can do that." And the Idiot of the Year Award goes to: Orlando Bloom.
"I would hope so," Viggo says, a smile curling the edges of his mouth.
My hands reach for the lube and I smear some onto my fingers. Since I've never finger-fucked myself, I'm not really sure what to go on here, but I guess nothing really bad will happen if I screw up. One of my fingers slides tentatively into my hole, and I gasp at the sensation of being sucked in by my own muscles. It's weird, but it's good. I add a second finger, beginning to slowly pump them in and out before shifting angles in a frantic search for my prostate. Where is it? Where is it? Why can Viggo always find it so easily?
There it is! I cry out as my fingers brush over something that sends a familiar and beloved jolt through my body, and I can hear Viggo chuckling somewhere in the distance. "Hungry little slut," he says affectionately. "Use the dildo now," he instructs.
I slide my fingers out of my arse, then fumble blindly for the dildo and coat it with lube. Positioning my legs so that they're a bit wider, I push the tip of the dildo into me and groan, my eyes fluttering closed. I keep pushing until the entire thing is in my arse, then take a deep breath and begin to slowly pump it in and out of me.
Adjusting the angle slightly, I hit my prostate and let out a moan. When I open my eyes again, I'm greeted with the decadent sight of Viggo splayed on the chair with his legs open, one hand idly stroking his cock while the other skims over his chest. His eyes move back and forth between the dildo that's moving in my arse and the hand on my cock; he looks absolutely mesmerized.
"That's it, slut," he says in a low voice. "Fuck yourself for me. Tell me what it *feels* like."
I pump the dildo harder, gasping as it hits my prostate again. "Feels great," I say. "Not as good as when you fuck me, though. I wish you were the one fucking me, Viggo; not this toy." It's the truth. The dildo is really terrific, but it can't replace Viggo's cock.
"You're always so greedy for my cock," he marvels.
"Can't help it," I gasp. "I need it."
Viggo stands up and walks over to the other side of the room, picking up a camera from the top of the dresser. The pervy bastard wants pictures of me?! I should have guessed. "I promise you that no one will ever see these pictures except for me," he says. "Will you let me photograph you?"
Instead of getting indignant, I feel a little thrill of shamelessness go through me. After all, I'd really like to see what I look like when I'm fucking myself. "Yes," I tell him, looking up at the camera as he kneels on the mattress next to me. "Take all the pictures of your whore that you want." I plunge the dildo in and out of myself with one hand as the other works on my cock, and the click of the shutter is almost an added physical stimulation as I keep giving him one hell of a show.
The camera moves all around my body taking pictures, and I'm lost in the thrill of giving myself over to him like this. Who knew I was such a natural exhibitionist? Sure, I'm an actor, but this is something else entirely. Viggo captures it all, from photographs of my face, to ones of my arsehole being stretched by the dildo; the man is nothing if not meticulous.
Finally, the camera is placed on the nightstand, and Viggo removes the dildo from my body. Before I can protest about the fact that I was enjoying myself with that thing, he's lubed himself up, hauled my legs over his shoulders, and plunged into me with one hard thrust. "Fuck!" I scream, arching my back off the bed.
"You're so open like this," Viggo grunts, slamming his cock into me mercilessly. "That dildo really got you ready."
I just whimper and try to thrust back at him, wanting him even deeper inside of me. "More," I plead.
"You did everything I wanted tonight, slut," he says, leaning down to trail kisses up my neck until he places a punishing one on my mouth. "You were so sexy lying there, fucking yourself for me, letting me take pictures, and begging to be fucked by my cock the whole time."
"Yes, I need your cock, need to be fucked by it," I babble as he continues to do exactly what I've wanted him to do all night long. As for the kinky stuff I was hoping for earlier? I think the photography about covers that. I'm now officially a porn star.
Our foreplay took so bloody long that we're both already close to coming. I want this to last longer, but it's just not going to happen, especially not when Viggo captures my mouth for another bruising kiss while my hand continues to stroke my cock. With a muffled moan, I come all over my hand, automatically breaking the kiss so I can suck the stickiness off of my fingers.
Viggo groans as he watches me lick my fingers, and he comes deep inside of me a moment later. "Orli!" he cries, throwing his head back. He flops down on top of me, then pulls out of my arse and rolls over, still breathing heavily. "So, are you over your fear of exhibitionism?"
"I think so," I laugh weakly. "I've conquered quite a few fears thanks to you, actually."
He smiles and leans in to kiss my forehead before moving down to brush his lips against my own. "Glad I could help. Are you going to stay tonight?"
"Don't I always?"
"Don't answer a question with a question," he admonishes with a grin.
"What are you going to do, punish me?" I tease.
"Do you want me to?"
I smile and pull the blankets up around me as I get ready for sleep.
"Maybe in the morning."
