Why did I have to wake up? I was having a wonderful dream that involved ice cream and classical music, and . . . wait a second. It's Sunday. It's my birthday.
"You're awake." I turn my head to see Orli looking at me with a sleepy smile. "Happy birthday," he says, his voice a bit rough from slumber.
"Thank you, love." I lean in and give him a light good morning kiss, but he deepens it by cradling the back of my head while teasing my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth to let his tongue in and moan as his hand slowly travels down my chest.
"I think I should give you a little birthday treat," he murmurs, pulling away from my mouth to apply teasing licks and nips to my neck. "What do you think?" A strong hand slips under my boxers to close around my cock, stroking it to hardness.
"That sounds nice," I groan, flexing my hips forward to gain more contact. Orli grins and pushes me to my back before giving me another deep kiss, his fingers dancing up the length of my erection. My boxers are pulled off and unceremoniously deposited on the floor, and I notice for the first time that my boyfriend is already naked. "You were planning this?" I ask with amusement.
"I woke up about ten minutes ago," he says between kisses, covering my body with his so that our cocks slide against each other. "I immediately got naked and waited for you to wake up."
"That's sweet of you," I groan as he starts kissing and licking his way down my body, his tongue swirling teasingly around a nipple.
"I thought so, too."
My brain abandons rational thought as Orli moves down and swiftly takes my cock into his mouth. He works a special brand of Orli-magic on me, sucking gently before pulling back to tease the head with his tongue. Before getting very far, however, he pulls off of my cock and sits up. "Wha--"
"Calm down," he laughs, reaching over me and grabbing the lube out of the nightstand. He spreads lube on his fingers and then goes back to work on my cock, taking me all the way into his mouth while nudging at my opening with a slick finger.
I moan and push my hips down, trying to draw his finger into my body. Orli chuckles around my cock and gives me what I want, easing a finger into me and sliding it back and forth with the same rhythm that his mouth is using on my erection. He adds a second finger, curling the two digits just enough to brush over my prostate and make me cry out. My hands grip the sheets tightly, and I try hard not to let go and start thrusting into his mouth.
When a third finger enters me, the pace speeds up; soon I'm being sucked and (finger) fucked in earnest. Orli's tongue is doing something absolutely wicked on the underside of my cock while his fingers pump in and out of me, and I know that I'm done for. It only takes one more touch of his fingers against my prostate for me to shudder and come with a groan. He keeps sucking until my orgasm has passed, then withdraws his fingers and considerately cleans my cock with his tongue.
"Hi," he says, sliding up the length of his body to kiss me again.
"Hi," I laugh, smoothing out some of his unruly curls. "Thank you for the birthday treat."
"Hey, it was the least I could do. After all, we weren't together for your last birthday, so I have extra doses of birthday cheer stored up."
"Is that so?"
"Mm-hmm." Orli pulls me closer and kisses my nose. "So how do you want to spend your day?"
"Just like any other day," I chuckle. "I guess I'd like to do some painting, and it'd be great to have dinner with you and Henry."
"We should go out," he declares. "Some place quiet and low-key."
"Sounds perfect." I smile and skim my hand down his back. "Can I ask exactly how much birthday cheer you're planning on lavishing me with today?"
He laughs. "As much as you can handle, old man."
"Speaking of . . . God, I'm forty-four." I groan and shake my head in disbelief.
"And sexy as hell, so don't worry about it." Orli kisses me once more. "I may call you 'old man', but you'll never be old to me."
"Thank you, Love Pig."
*****
Curiosity overcomes me as I hear Henry's giggles carry down the hall to the studio. It's almost six, and I'm starting to think that maybe we should go to dinner soon. Half-concerned with hunger and half-wondering what's so funny, I put down my brush, wash my hands, and walk to the kitchen.
"Back off, Bloom!" Henry shouts as I near the kitchen. "Of you'll find yourself the victim of a vicious batter attack!" Batter attack? I peek into the kitchen and have to fight to keep myself from laughing.
My son is wielding a wooden spoon covered in cake batter and standing next to a bowl of the same stuff. My boyfriend is pretending to cower in the corner and clutches a carton of eggs to his chest. "You wouldn't dare," Orli mock-gasps.
"Am I interrupting something?" I laugh as I walk into the kitchen.
"Shit, you're not supposed to come in here!" Henry exclaims. "And no, I didn't just say shit."
"You just said it again, mate," Orli teases.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm baking a cake for you," Henry sighs. "And Orli's making omelettes for dinner because you love them. But we wanted it to be a surprise."
I grin and lean against the doorframe. "You two are the best."
"We know," my son says smugly.
*****
After enjoying some delicious omelettes, we put our dinner dishes away and pull the cake out of the oven. The smell of chocolate fills the kitchen, and I pour glasses of milk for all three of us. Orli gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then scampers out of the room, returning a minute later with a small stack of gifts. Henry divides the cake into slices and sets them down on the table with a look of unabashed pride on his face.
"Happy birthday, Dad," he tells me, sitting down next to me.
"Thanks, Henry."
"Okay, so these are from both of us," Orli says, gesturing to the gifts on the table. He sits down on my other side and enthusiastically digs into his slice of cake.
"It's quite an impressive pile," I remark as I reach for the gift on top.
"Wait, you have to taste the cake first!" Henry protests.
I laugh and obligingly take a bite of the cake. "Wow," I say, raising my eyebrows.
"It's good, isn't it?"
"It's terrific," I tell him. "Where on earth did you learn to bake? I didn't teach you, and God knows that Exene is allergic to cooking and baking."
"I figured it out for myself," he laughs. "I can read a cookbook, Dad."
"Fair enough. Well, thank you so much for the cake, Henry."
"You're welcome. *Now* you can open your presents."
"Thanks for permission," I chuckle, reaching for the first gift.
"That's from me," Orli says as I unwrap it.
I smile as I pull off the paper. "This is perfect," I say. "I'm so glad you got this for me." The gift is a book about Latin American politics that I had mentioned to him. "Thank you, Orli."
"Wait, you have to see the bookmark," he tells me excitedly. "Oh, and you're welcome." I open the book to find a bookmark adorned with a painting of two winged pigs locked in a kiss. "They're flying Love Pigs," he says. We start laughing, and I lean in to give him a quick kiss.
"Love Pigs? What's with the pigs?" Henry asks. "First that weird stuffed pig that you've got on your bed for some reason, and now this."
"Uh, it's kind of an inside joke," I explain.
My son raises his eyebrows. "I don't want to know."
"Okay, keep going with the gifts," Orli urges. "You've still got two left."
"Yeah, open mine," Henry orders, thrusting a wrapped box into my hands. "There aren't any pigs involved, but I think you'll like it."
"I'm sure that I will," I laugh, tearing at the wrapping paper. "Oh, wonderful!" I exclaim. "Thank you, Henry." His gift is a box of paintbrushes that I *really* need, since I always forget to buy new ones.
"You're welcome." He indulges me by allowing to give him a hug and a kiss on the head. "I knew that your brushes were getting kind of ratty, so it made sense to get you these."
"Well, between the brushes and the cake, you've given me terrific gifts," I tell him with a smile. "You're a really great kid, you know that?"
Henry blushes a bit. "Thanks. Maybe you should open Orli's other gift now." He pushes the final box towards me.
"Alright." The box isn't wrapped, so I simply pull off the lid . . . and start laughing. "A cowboy hat?" I chuckle.
"You love them!" Orli exclaims. "And you look really great in them."
Ignoring Henry's laughter at Orli's last comment, I pull the hat out of the box and grin. "I *do* love them. Thank you."
"You're welcome," Orli beams. "Now, put it on."
Realizing that protesting would be futile, I obediently place the hat on my head. "Satisfied?"
"Yes, I am." He gives me a kiss. "And I have another present for you, although it's not wrapped."
"Oh?"
"My gift is a promise," he says solemnly. "I know that I've made you worry in the past with some of my more perilous recreational activities, but I swear that from this day forth, I won't do any of that stuff again. No bungee-jumping, no skydiving, none of it."
"Really? You'd do that?" I ask in disbelief. "But you love that stuff! I mean, it worries me, but I don't want you to feel like you have to stop it just because of that."
"Viggo, how could I enjoy it if I know that it gets you all nervous? And I'm not just doing it for you, either -- I'm doing it because I don't really want to take any more risks like that now that we've decided to have a kid. I want to be around for that."
"Orli . . . thank you," I say softly. He smiles in response and wraps me in a tight hug.
The truth is that whenever he goes on one of his little 'adventures', it scares the crap out of me, mainly because of what happened when he broke his back. After all, how much luck can one person really have? And with all of the jumping out of planes and off of bridges, I was convinced that one day he'd seriously hurt himself. But since I didn't want him to know that it really upset me, and we'd already had a fight about the issue back in New Zealand, I mainly kept quiet about it. Apparently, Orli was still able to pick up on my anxiety and decided that enough was enough.
"Okay, back up a second," Henry says as Orli and I break apart. "A kid? Are you serious?" He's grinning like crazy.
"Yeah, we're serious," Orli tells him.
"But I thought you *weren't* planning on having another child."
"It was something we hadn't really talked about," I admit. "But when you brought it up, we ended up discussing it and we both really want to have a child together."
"I knew it! Okay, so when are you having the baby?"
"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that," I chuckle. "And we're not planning on doing anything for two or three years. However, we're definitely going to give you a brother or sister."
"You're cool with that, right?" Orli asks Henry nervously.
"Are you serious?" he laughs. "Of course I am! *I'm* the one who brought it up, remember?"
"We remember," I tell him. "And thank you for that. But nobody else knows about this, so you have to promise--"
"To keep it a secret? No problem." Henry's practically bouncing in his seat. "This is so great, though. And Orli -- you're gonna be the coolest dad."
"Hey, what about me?" I ask with a grin. "Are you saying that *I'm* not the coolest dad?"
"Okay, Orli will be the coolest dad except for you," he amends. "You'll be the coolest *pair* of dads. Now, let's finish the cake because Exene will be here soon."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me? As much as I adore your mother, why is she coming over tonight?"
"Oh, she's just picking me up. I'm going to stay at her house so you guys can be alone tonight. I've got my bags packed and everything."
I look over at Orli, who's grinning. "You knew about this?" I ask him.
"Yeah. It was actually Exene's idea, and Henry was cool with it." My ex-wife is a brilliant woman.
"It's fine with me," Henry confirms, scooping up another forkful of cake. "I'll go over to Exene's, and you two can make sweet love until the sun comes up."
There's really nothing like being embarrassed in front of your teenaged son. "Um . . . thanks, Henry."
He grins. "No problem."
*****
"Bye, Dad," Henry shouts back at the house as he walks to Exene's parked car.
"Bye," I call back at him. "Thanks for thinking to this," I say to Exene, who's standing in the doorway.
"No problem," she tells me, giving me a quick hug. "Happy birthday, sweetie. Now go have some fun."
"I'll try," I laugh.
"Thanks again," Orli says to her, still blushing a bit from her last comment. The two of them have become friends, which is something I'm thrilled about.
"You're welcome. Good night, you two."
We wave our goodbyes as she leaves, and then Orli closes the door and turns to me with a grin. "So . . . you have one last gift."
"Is it you?" I chuckle.
"In a way," he tells me.
"Does it involve you getting naked?"
"Yes. Come with me." Orli drags me into the bedroom and sits me down on the bed. "Stay there, okay? I don't want to have to punish you."
"What if I want to be punished?" I tease.
"You're a kinky bugger, Vig," he sighs, rummaging around in a knapsack for something. "Ah, here it is," he proclaims, pulling out a CD. "Now for some mood music."
"Mood music?"
"You'll see," he says with an enigmatic smile. He pops the CD into the stereo and dims the lights. "Happy birthday, Mr. Mortensen," he tells me in a breathy, Marilyn Monroe-esque voice.
My eyebrows raise, but the music comes on before I can say anything. A techno beat fills the room, and Orli starts doing a little bump and grind with the air. //I'm too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts.// Orli pulls his shirt off very slowly, first revealing the sun tattoo, then the muscled abs, then the dusky nipples. He finally removes the garment and flings it at me as a souvenir.
His hips thrust forward slightly into the air, grinding against an invisible partner. Sweet mother of mercy. He's giving me a floor show. //I'm too sexy for Japan, too sexy for Japan, New York, and Milan.//
"Orli?" I ask with a grin.
He holds a finger to his lips as if to shush me and then continues dancing. //I'm a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little thing on the catwalk.// The fact that he's sashaying around our room in just a pair of snug-fitting jeans should look ridiculous, but since it's Orli, it only looks completely alluring. //Yeah, I shake my little tush on the catwalk.// He wiggles his ass at me. Okay, I'm just going to relax and enjoy this. //I'm too sexy for this song.// The song ends abruptly, and Orli gives me another grin.
"That was nice," I chuckle.
"I'm just getting started," he tells me. His words are immediately followed by a new song coming over the speakers, and a new dance rhythm takes over my boyfriend. It's a struggle not to start cracking up as I recognize the song as Madonna's 'Vogue'. Orli struts across the floor, looking every inch the picture of temptation in those jeans and nothing else. By the time he gets to the second chorus, he's slowly unzipping his fly and making my own pants feel very tight.
//Come on, vogue. Let your body move to the music.// My jaw drops as he pulls off his jeans to reveal a thong with the British flag covering his, er, money area. He immediately turns around to give me a prime view of his ass, with just a thin line of blue fabric peeking out from between the two cheeks. Now free of his pants, he continues to dance around, his body doing gyrations that are probably illegal in several countries. Whatever klutziness he normally possesses has melted away, and his movements are smooth and incredibly sexy.
//Greta Garbo and Monroe, Dietrich and DiMaggio.// Orli lip-synchs along with the song while leveling me with a sultry gaze, turning around occasionally to shake his nearly-naked ass and wink at me. I always knew he was a sex kitten. The thong is now very distorted from Orli's erection, and the clingy fabric outlines his cock perfectly.
My own cock is straining against my jeans now, and I bite back a groan when Orli skims his hands over his chest, giving me a shameless come-hither look. 'Vogue' ends, but before I can get my hopes up that I'm finally allowed to start touching Orli, another Madonna song begins: 'Like a Virgin'. Orli's nothing if not cheeky. As the song plays, he's taunting me by touching himself, briefly stroking himself through the thong before cupping his ass with his hands and teasingly running a finger along the strip of material that separates the cheeks.
//You're so fine, and you're mine.// Orli drops to his knees in front of me and slides his palms up my denim-covered thighs, stopping just short of my crotch. //Like a virgin, touched for the very first time.// I start to protest when he pulls away, but then he suddenly straddles one of my legs, gyrating against my thigh. He slithers up until he's almost touching my hip, then adjusts his position so that he's sitting fully on my lap, pushing his very hard cock against my own. My jeans feel like a medieval torture device right now.
Since I know that any attempt to touch Orli will only result in my hands being slapped away, I sit back and allow him to grind against me. He leans forward and applies light kisses to my neck and jawline, which only serves to arouse me even further. When did my sweet, loving boyfriend turn into a professional stripper? Wait -- that gives me an idea. I reach into the pocket of my jeans and grin as I pull out a crinkled dollar bill. With a grin on my face, I stick the dollar bill into his thong.
Orli raises his eyebrows and grins back at me, rocking against me with renewed vigor. After giving me one last kiss right under my ear, he stands up again and resumes moving with the music. He slinks over to the other end of the room and then gets down on his hands and knees, crawling across the floor towards me with his ass pushed up into the air, exaggerating the sway his body. The dark line of the thong that runs between his cheeks only serves to highlight how absolutely perfect that ass really is; meanwhile, he's incinerating me with what I like to call the 'gaze of lust'.
This is sexy as all hell, and my jeans are killing me. Must get naked now. *Now*. But I know that if I try to get undressed, Orli will only prolong the strip session, and I can't take much more of this. The vision of my insanely gorgeous boyfriend undulating and dancing seductively around the room in nothing but a tiny scrap of fabric is enough to make my brain implode. I'm way beyond mere frustration at this point.
He comes to stand right in front of me, turns around, and slowly -- *very* slowly -- pulls off the thong as the music fades out, making sure to bend at the waist so he can give me the best possible view of his ass. And it's definitely a nice view. The dollar bill flutters to the floor when he tosses the thong over near the closet; he casually joins me on the bed, reclining against the pillows.
"Care to ravish me?" he asks with a smile.
I swallow hard and frantically tear off my clothes, scrambling up the mattress in a very undignified manner to grab him for a long, deep kiss. Orli moans and clutches at my hair, and I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, I pull away to slide down his body and press a kiss to the head of his cock, flicking my tongue out to capture some precome.
"It wasn't very nice of you to torture me like that. After all, I *am* the birthday boy" I say casually, brushing my lips against his inner thigh.
"Viggo," he whimpers.
Ignoring my own intense arousal, I lick a path from his thigh over to his balls and then down to his ass. His whimpers get louder as I circle his hole with my tongue, determined to tease him. The problem is that it's impossible not to give in to a writhing Orli, so I finally push my tongue into him and relish his loud moan of gratitude. I lick around inside of him for a moment or two, then pull back and reach over to yank open the nightstand drawer and grab the lube.
I quickly slick up my fingers and cock, then lean down to kiss Orli while sliding two fingers into his body. He groans into the kiss before pulling his mouth from mine and gasping. "More," he pleads. "Please, just fuck me." After the striptease and the rimming, we're both already close to coming and need to make love *immediately*.
Letting my fingers slip out of him, I hook his legs around my waist and push the tip of my dripping cock against his hole. "Ready?" I ask in a low voice. Orli just nods, his face flushed with need. I thrust into him hard, overwhelmed as always by the sensation of tight heat clinging to my cock. Beneath me, Orli lets a yell of pleasure and arches his back.
Our rhythm is hard and fast, his ankles locking tightly behind me and drawing me further into his body as I put all of my energy into my thrusts. Adjusting my angle a bit, I hit his prostate and am rewarded with a low moan and Orli's hands pulling my head down for a punishing kiss. My tongue slides around his, and I can't help but growl a bit when he nips at my bottom lip.
I synchronize the rhythm of my tongue with that of my cock as I continue to plunge into him, and soon both of us are moaning constantly into each other's mouths. Our merciless pace is making the bed creak loudly like something out of a porn flick, and I almost feel like laughing at the absurdity of the sound. I wish that this could be a marathon lovemaking session, but that striptease got me way too worked up to be able to last much longer. The way that Orli's breathing is uneven and his body is trembling lets me know that he's also close to coming.
"Come for me, Vig," he urges, clamping his muscles around me and making me groan his name. One of his hands moves from my hair to his cock, stroking himself in time with my thrusts. I continue driving into his body, my movements growing more shallow as my orgasm approaches.
Orli comes first, crying out my name and closing his eyes tightly as his seed spills over his hand. The way his body shudders around me combined with the sight of his beautiful face overcome by pleasure is too much for me, and I reach my own climax a few moments later, gasping and moaning incoherently as I come inside of him. His arms urge me down for a long kiss as our bodies return to normal, ignoring the stickiness and the now slightly awkward position.
"I love you," I say softly, nuzzling my nose against his earlobe. "Thank you so much for today; it was wonderful."
"I'm so glad you enjoyed yourself." He gives me a dazzling smile and a tender kiss.
"The striptease was a very nice gift, you know," I tell him. "Thank you for that."
"You're welcome." Orli groans a bit when I roll off of him to retrieve our all-important wet-naps from the nightstand drawer. "Get back on top of me, Vig," he pleads.
I laugh and clean the stickiness from our bodies. "Orli, I can't sleep on top of you. You wouldn't be able to breathe."
"But I'd die happy," he tells me with a grin.
"I'm not sure it's worth it, love," I chuckle, pulling him into my arms. "How about we just sleep like this, okay?"
"Okay." He places his head on my chest and looks up at me with a warm smile. "So you really had a good birthday?"
"I had a *great* birthday. Thank you for the hat, the striptease, the book, the omelettes, the sex, and the promise."
"You're welcome for everything. And I'm going to hold to that promise, Vig," he says, his eyes growing serious. "I'm going to be around for all of your birthdays, even when you're ninety and wrinkled and still absolutely beautiful."
"Well, I'm almost halfway to ninety as of today. Do you think you can endure another forty-six years with me?" I tease.
Orli leans up and kisses me soundly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
I smile at him. "Neither would I."
