For alliwantisanelf: Wanna Bet?
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. The author has no knowledge of and is making no claims about the real-life activities of anyone depicted herein. This is for entertainment purposes only and no profit has been made.
Rating: The overall rating for this challenge is NC-17. Not all fics are, but some will be.
Note: All headings that could reveal the author's identity have been stripped. Authors, please do not reveal yourself yet. Readers, feel free to guess who wrote which fic. A list of authors is here.
For alliwantisanelf, who requested I would like a fic where Orlando loses a bet with Viggo, and his penalty is to have to wear IN PUBLIC what Viggo picks out for him. Viggo drags Orlando to a store like Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood in the mall and goes the whole 9 yards with the outfit he selects, head to toe, no expense spared.
After Orlando's dressed right there in the dressing room (maybe the sales girls get into it too and help with his makeup?), Vig takes him to dinner at the mall as well, either in the food court or a nicer restaurant located there, making him totter along in the heels. Orlando's certain he'll be recognised, but then gets into it when he realizes how beautiful he looks and how people's heads are turning.
Summary: Orlando loses a bet.
Warning: Crossdressing; kink; graphic sex.
Wanna Bet?
Author's Notes: Orlando’s 'little black number' and his to-die-for stockings
~*~
Flashback…
“I tell you, he is!’
“No fuckin’ way, man. Not Uncle George. Never. And gimme some more of that red over there. Stop hogging the vino!”
“He is, I’m telling you. And haven’t you had enough yet? Your eyes are crossing.”
“If he is, I’ll dance down Rodeo Drive in drag, singing “I will Survive”.”
“You’re on, Elfboy. Shake on it…”
End Flashback…
“Mmmmfffff…. Gway…! Wazzamarrer…! Viiiiig… Lemmelone..!” came the muffled voice from beneath the pillow as Viggo shook Orlando’s shoulder firmly to wake his sleeping beauty.
“Come on, Elfboy. We’ve got clothes shopping to do.”
Orlando winced and tried to bury his head more firmly into the mattress. Hang on a minute, did Vig mention shopping…? Vig hated shopping for clothes!
“Okay, okay, I’m up. Gimme coffee… oh, thanks love. Now, talk to me about this shopping….” Orlando’s rumpled head appeared from underneath the pillow that a few minutes ago had been clutched in a death-grip leaving just a few tousled curls sticking out from beneath the cream satin.
“Orli, we have to go shopping to get your outfit. Remember our little bet about Uncle George?” Viggo grinned, an evil twinkle in his eye.
“Errrrrmmm… bet? What bet?” Orlando asked tentatively, firmly hanging on to his Wallace and Grommit coffee mug as though it was a lifeline.
“Don’t you remember last Thanksgiving, sweetheart? When I said that I thought your Uncle George was gay, you said that if he was, you’d dance down Rodeo Drive in drag singing “I Will Survive”? Well, looks like he and his ‘buddy’ Pete have decided to make it official, ‘cos our invitation to their wedding was in the post this morning!”
The colour visibly drained from Orlando’s face. “You mean… Uncle George… and Pete… but… Pete’s his fishing mate! They’ve been friends for years….” His voice trailed off.
“Well, looks like they were doing more on those fishing trips than just dangling bait,” Viggo smirked. “Now, come on, I’ve been dying to see you in heels!”
“Pervert!” Orlando muttered, before deciding to try a different tack. He dropped his head, looking up at Viggo alluringly through a thick line of dark lashes, and allowing his lower lip to tremble slightly.
“But Vig, I can’t do that! What if someone sees me - I’ll be all over the gossip rags tomorrow. Please, don’t make me do this. Besides, it’s not fair. You kept pouring me more and more wine - you know I can’t be held responsible for anything I say when I’m pissed.” He casually drifted his hand up the inside of his lover’s thigh. “I’ll make it up to you some other way….”
“Not a chance, Elfboy. And can the puppy-dog eyes - they’re not gonna work this time. You promised me I could dress you up, and I’m going to. I’ve been waiting a long time for this! Now, get your cute little ass into the bathroom while I make some breakfast. You’re gonna need all your energy today.”
Pouting and grumbling softly to himself Orlando trudged reluctantly to the bathroom, while Viggo bounded down the stairs whistling happily.
~*~
After a quick breakfast of lemon poppyseed muffins (for Viggo) and chocolate-coated cereal (for Orlando) and some lengthy negotiations, the boys agreed on certain adjustments to the original bet. Viggo would dress Orlando as he chose, and Orlando would behave himself during the preparations. In return, Orlando wouldn’t have to dance or sing, but he would have to let Viggo take him out to dinner.
“If I’m recognized, you are dead meat!” Orlando muttered under his breath as they got into the car. But the twinkle in his eye almost matched that in Viggo’s. “‘This could be fun!’” he decided to himself.
He wasn’t thinking that four hours later after a trip to the beauty parlour. He’d been shaved, plucked and waxed; manicured and pedicured; creamed, lotioned and potioned; shampooed, teased and twirled, and was feeling decidedly disgruntled.
“Come on, baby, the worst is over now,” Viggo cooed encouragingly from the driver’s seat. “We only have to pick out your outfit and make-up, and you’re all set. And you know you love trying on clothes.”
“Well, yeah,” Orlando agreed reluctantly. “It’s a good thing my hair is still long enough for them to put it up in this … whatsitsname. It looks really good.”
“It’s called a chignon, baby, and you look gorgeous. Good enough to eat.” Viggo licked his lips lasciviously, raising a giggle from the seat next to him. In truth, Orlando already looked spectacular. His baby-smooth skin was glowing, and the chignon emphasized his high cheekbones and made his dark chocolate eyes look enormous. And the way those artfully-placed tendrils of hair delicately stroked that long neck.... Viggo’s fingers twitched in envy, and he mentally argued the merits of going straight home and fucking Orlando senseless.
“Vig! Watch out! You almost hit that car! How the fuck would I explain this hairdo at the emergency room?” Orlando yelled suddenly. Viggo started and silently vowed to keep his eyes firmly on the road, difficult as it might be.
Within minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of Frederick’s of Hollywood.
“Vig… ummm… what if someone in there recognizes me?”
“Don’t worry, angel, it’s all taken care of. Remember Joanie, one of the assistant dressers on Rings? Well, she works here now as manager of the lingerie department. I called her while you were busy at the salon, and she promised to help us. And we can trust her to keep her mouth shut. She’ll take good care of you, baby.”
Slightly mollified, Orlando slid out of the car. Viggo had to hide a grin at the incongruous figure he posed, the elegant upswept hairstyle contrasting strangely with the ripped jeans, baggy green t-shirt and battered sneakers. Grasping Orlando’s elbow, he guided them through the doors and into the store.
“Relax, baby. This will be fun… you know how much you love dressing up. And I can’t wait to see those luscious long legs of yours in heels and stockings. You know it’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time.” Viggo murmured reassuringly as they took the elevator to the second floor. Orlando visibly relaxed at the warmth in Viggo’s tone. Yes, this could be fun.
As they stepped out of the elevator, a familiar voice piped up “Hello Mr M. Good to see you again. And who’s your lovely companion?”
Viggo grinned. “Hello Joanie, good to see you again. You remember Orlietta from New Zealand, surely?” he answered suavely, ignoring the muffled snort that came from slightly behind him.
Joanie grinned conspiratorially, her green eyes sparkling with repressed humour. “Oh yes, I remember. My, you’re looking lovelier than ever. Now, please come this way - I’ve reserved a private dressing room for you.” Taking Orlando’s arm, the diminutive woman led them through a discretely hidden door into a gold and white room with mirrored walls, a curtained-off area and a large, comfortable-looking couch.
“Now Mr M., what did you have in mind for… errmm… Orlietta?” she asked.
“Joanie, please call me Viggo. Something very sexy but not slutty; preferably black. We have reservations for dinner tonight.” Viggo replied quickly before “Orlietta” could chip in with any dubious colour choices.
“Fine, just take a seat and I’ll bring in a rack of options. Will you just be wanting a dress, or are we working from the skin out?”
“Oh, definitely skin out,” was the smug response, as “Orlietta” let out a small squeak.
“Fine, I’ll be right back,” Joanie threw over her shoulder as she bustled out of the room.
As soon she was out of the room, Orlando bounced into Viggo’s lap and flung his arms around his neck. “Thank you for arranging this for me,” he whispered. “I’d have died if you’d made me to go a store with loads of people around gawking at me.” And he pulled Viggo into a loving kiss that rapidly turned passionate.
Before things could escalate, Joanie was back with a rack of assorted clothing. “Here we go, I’m sure there’s something suitable here,” she said. “Now, I’ll leave you alone to browse - I’ll just be outside the door if you need me.
Orlando bounded off Viggo’s lap and over to the rack, pawing through the hanging items before being sternly ordered to “Sit down!” Viggo sauntered over and ran his eye appraisingly over the small collection of dresses. Joanie must have a very good eye, he mused to himself, noting that all the choices were of a suitable size, and nothing had plunging necklines. He pulled two dresses off the rack and examined them before deciding on one and tossing it to Orlando.
“Here baby, try this on while I decide what you’re going to wear underneath it.” Orlando grabbed the dress and went into the curtained alcove. A few minutes later, after some extremely muffled cursing, Orlando popped his head around the curtain.
“Vig, I can’t get this thing on without messing up my hair. Can you come and help me?” he whined.
“No, baby. If I come in there with you, we’ll never get to dinner and I want to show you off. I’ll go get Joanie, and then go and get changed myself. Here, put this on in the meantime.” He handed Orlando what looked like a handful of lace and string.
Orlando raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow, but took the item and held it up. “Oh, fuck…” he breathed, eyes glowing. “This is gorgeous!” He disappeared back behind the curtain to slip into the black and red lacy satin thong, admiring in the mirror the way the double side straps emphasized the slenderness of his hips. He cupped his genitals gently, loving the feel of the slippery satin against his cock, and appreciating the fact that the tightness of the thong would help disguise his bulge. He jumped back with a squeak as the curtain was twitched aside, cupping both hands protectively in front of himself.
“Only me, no need to be shy now. You have nothing I haven’t seen before,” Joanie trilled as she waltzed into the alcove. “Now, let’s see what Mr… Viggo has chosen for you. Oh, very nice, good choice. The neckline and sleeves will de-emphasise your shoulders, we can get away with a padded strapless bra, and the cutouts will make your waist look even slimmer,” she smiled. “Back in a tick.”
Within minutes, Orlando was encased in a black padded strapless bra, and Joanie was easing the dress carefully over his chignon. “Oh, my. Look at you,” she murmured. Orlando turned to the mirror, and stared, open-mouthed. In front of him was a tall, slender, beautiful, doe-eyed… creature! The black dress was cut straight across in an off-the-shoulder manner, with a shoestring strap over each shoulder. The sides were cut away, and the cutout carried on across the back of the dress, showing his tanned back from just below the bra to his waist. The skirt was straight, with a thigh-high side slit, and a cascade of delicate silver chains framed his hips. Joanie grinned at him. “Now, honey, what size shoe do you take?”
“Ermm, I’m a size ten. Do you have anything in that size?” Orlando answered absently, still arching and twisting to admire himself in the mirror.
“Oh, I’m sure I can find something,” she grinned at her preening customer.
Moments later, she was back with a pair of black high-heeled pumps with cutout sides and delicate ankle straps. “The ankle straps will give you a bit of extra support and make them a bit easier to walk in,” she explained. Orlando wasn’t really listening as he was too busy caressing the soft leather of the pumps, tracing his fingers slowly up and down the stiletto heels. “And I thought these, just to give Viggo a bit of a thrill,” she said, handing Orlando a pair or sheer black thigh-high stockings. She knelt to help him put them on and he gasped to see the criss-cross satin ribbons lacing up the back. “Oh, yeah, Vig will love these,” he grinned.
“One last thing,” she nodded approvingly. She popped her head around the curtain and called “Ruthie!”.
“Who’s Ruthie?” Orlando demanded, still not happy about being seen by anyone other than Joanie and Viggo.
“She’s a friend of mine, who works in makeup. A very good friend, if you know what I mean,” Joanie winked at him. “I asked her to help, and she knows to keep quiet - not that I think there’s any danger of anyone recognizing you now, even your own mother.”
Orlando smiled back at the little woman who was helping him make Viggo’s fantasy a reality. “Okay, bring her in. Just promise me she won’t make me look like a tart.”
“I promise.” Came a husky female voice, as Ruthie stepped around the curtain, smiling fondly at Joanie. Orlando could feel the vibe between the two women, and felt much happier about Ruthie being there.
~*~
Forty five minutes later, Joanie and Ruthie pronounced him “done”. They stepped around the curtain to announce him to Viggo, who was by now fidgeting nervously on the couch. After changing into his tux in the men’s room, he’d sat for what seemed like hours trying to hear the hushed voices and muted giggles from behind the thick curtains. He hoped he wasn’t pushing Orlando too far with his choice of dress….
“Viggo, your dinner-date is here!” Joanie dimpled.
Orlando stepped around the curtain, and Viggo’s jaw dropped.
“Hey gorgeous. Are you my date for tonight?” Orlando purred seductively. He sauntered over to where Viggo stood awestruck, hips swaying as he used the grace he’d learned as Legolas to balance on the high heels. “Vig… Vig…, anybody in there?” He grinned as he snapped his fingers in front of Viggo’s eyes, and spun in a slow pirouette. “You like?”
Viggo shut his jaw with an audible click of teeth, and swallowed hard. “Ummm… you look… you look… amazing,” he stuttered, unable to quite process what he was seeing. “Fuck, I had no idea!”
The vision in front of him quite literally took his breath away. Tall, slender, with drop-dead gorgeous goes-on-forever legs encased in black silk, hints of tawny flesh showing at the waistline and just a hint of satin-smooth thigh peeping through the slit in the skirt. And those stockings…!
Orlando visibly preened and fluttered his long black mascara-ed lashes. He’d been a bit nervous about the whole dress-hair-and-makeup thing, but it was worth it just to see Viggo’s reaction. Which was a very favourable reaction, judging by the large bulge that was currently tenting the front of his pants.
“My, how handsome you look in your tuxedo,” he purred. “I take it we’re going somewhere special for dinner?”
“T… t… to Chez Jacques,” Viggo managed to blurt out. He silently raised a prayer to whatever deities were watching that he could restrain himself from just throwing Orlando… Orlietta, he corrected himself… down and ravishing him on the shop floor. Taking a deep breath to compose himself somewhat, he turned to Joanie and Ruthie, who were looking on fondly, standing hand-in-hand. “Ladies, thank you for doing such a wonderful job. You’ve exceeded all my expectations,” he effused. “You have my credit card number, and whatever it cost, it’s worth triple. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a table waiting.” He took Orlietta’s arm, and bowing to the ladies, he led his date out of the store.
~*~
The ride to the mall was interminable for Viggo. His knuckles were white as he fought to keep his hands on the steering wheel and off his companion. ‘Orlietta’ chattered away happily, telling him all about how Joanie and Ruthie had helped him get ready and taught him how to walk in the heels, and didn’t seem to notice the lack of response from the car’s other occupant.
All the way through the mall to the secluded restaurant, Orlando preened and blushed prettily as heads turned in his direction. Viggo smiled smugly in a you-can-look-but-only-I-can-touch way, until a sudden jerk and pull on his arm stopped him short.
“Ow! Fuckit!” burst an extremely masculine and out-of-character voice, causing one man to trip over his own feet, and several others to raise their eyebrows in shock.
Viggo turned to see his date standing in the doorway of a store.
“What are you doing there, babe? What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.
“Oh, Sir Galahad. Won’t you help a damsel in distress?” pouted Orlando. “My heel is stuck in this doormat, and there’s no way I can bend down to get it loose and remain ladylike,” he winked at Viggo.
Trying desperately to keep a straight face, Viggo knelt on the mat to extricate the delicate heel which was jammed into the web of the doormat. He couldn’t resist running his hand up Orlando’s slender, stockinged calf, admiring the way the heels pulled the muscle taut. His composure was not helped by the whisper of “Mmmm…, while you’re down there.” from Orlando. Cursing under his breath, Viggo got back to his feet and straightened his jacket, desperately trying to disguise exactly how turned on he was.
At the restaurant, things didn’t improve for Viggo. He groaned audibly as Orlando tucked into his starter of asparagus spears in butter sauce with diligent applications of tongue to both vegetables and fingers; and broke out into a sweat as spaghetti was daintily sucked through pursed lips. Looking round for something to take his mind off what else those lips could be sucking, he noticed several men at other tables casting appreciative glances at his date. He looked back to his dinner companion, almost blinded by the candlelight reflecting off the glittering diamante earrings and necklace. Throwing his napkin to the table, he growled “That’s it. Let’s go!”
“Not a chance, caveman,” Orlando grinned. “I want to dance. What kind of cheap date do you think I am? Did you think I’d let you drag me off to bed halfway through dinner? I want to show off - I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing!” Viggo’s hand was taken in a firm grip and in a daze he was led to the small, intimate dance floor. Orlando immediately pressed full-length against him, wrapping his arms around Viggo’s neck and swaying gently to the soft piano music.
“Are you deliberately trying to torture me?” Viggo ground through clenched teeth. The feel of Orlando pressed against him was driving him crazy with lust. “Do you want me to throw you across the nearest table and fuck you right here and now?”
Orlando’s immaculately made-up eyes opened wide, and he took a half step back. “Sorry, baby, I’ll behave. It’s just I feel so sexy, all dressed up for you, and I want to enjoy it.”
“No, I’m sorry, baby. You look so hot, all I can think about is taking you home, unwrapping you slowly, and burying myself deep inside you. I can’t help myself,” Viggo whispered.
“Then let’s go,” Orlando said firmly, dragging Viggo off the dance floor and out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough for Viggo to thrust a wad of bills at the startled maitre’d.
~*~
If Viggo thought the ride to the restaurant was difficult, it paled in comparison to the ride home. Eventually, they pulled into the driveway of the L.A. home he shared with Orlando. Getting out of the car, he went around to the passenger side to assist Orlando out of the car.
Once inside, he dragged his giggling companion directly to the bedroom.
“Don’t move,” he growled. Orlando took one look at the flashing eyes and dilated pupils and smiled seductively.
“Don’t you want me to strip for you?” he purred, swaying his hips slightly. “Or get down on my knees and suck you - take the edge off, lover?”
“Yes…. No…. I don’t know!” Viggo muttered frantically. Orlando decided to take matters into his own hands. Dropping gracefully to his knees, he unzipped Viggo’s pants with his long, scarlet-tipped fingers, and slowly took out the throbbing purple organ that was doing its best to break out on it’s own volition.
“Mmmmm…. Viggo-flavoured lipgloss, my favourite.”
Viggo moaned as Orlando rubbed the weeping tip of Viggo’s cock over his scarlet lips, making them shine in the dim light of the bedside lamp that was the only illumination in the room. Delicately, Orlando licked up and down the pulsating vein, before parting his lips and swallowing Viggo to the root, at the same time humming appreciatively. Viggo was so wound up, he gasped and came immediately, knees sagging and hands clutching desperately at Orlando’s shoulders.
As soon as Viggo could stand on his own, he took charge again. “Stand up,” he rasped. Orlando got to his feet again, the black dress sliding silkily down over his hips and clearly showing just how turned on he was. Delicately, he lifted his hand and used his little finger to collect a stray drop of come from the corner of his mouth, pink tongue slipping between the scarlet lips to daintily lap at it.
Viggo stalked over to the closet, and rummaged around muttering to himself. “Too damned cheeky. I’ll shut him up. Show him who’s in charge here,” as he pulled various items from the shelves. When Orlando opened his mouth to comment, a black leather gag was slipped between his lips and fastened at the pack of his head. Viggo’s hands traveled up his thighs from just above his knees, pushing the hem of Orlando’s dress upwards and over his hips. Pausing for a second to remove the delicate chain belt, Viggo slid the dress carefully up over Orlando’s head and tossed it to the floor. He stepped around to face Orlando, sliding his hands down Orlando’s arms before fastening them together with a set of chrome handcuffs.
“Clasp your hands behind your head,” Viggo barked, and Orlando was quick to comply. Viggo felt his cock twitch and start to fill again as his eyes hungrily devoured the vision that stood stretched out before him. The pose displayed Orlando’s body in stark relief, the shadows formed by the dim light emphasizing the dips and hollows of his torso. Dropping to his knees behind Orlando, Viggo started to lick and nibble his way up Orlando’s legs, starting just above the heel and taking exquisite care not to miss a single centimeter of skin exposed by the criss-cross ribbons lacing the backs of the stockings. By the time he got to the top of the first stocking, Orlando was visibly trembling; by the second, he was outright shaking and when Viggo eased the black and red satin and lace g-string off using only his teeth, plaintive whimpers were escaping from behind the gag and Orlando’s hips were jerking in a staccato rhythm..
“Oh no, baby. You’ve been teasing me all evening - you’re not gonna get off that easily,” Viggo growled. “No way are you coming yet.” Rising to his feet, he stepped in front of Orlando and slipped a silver cock-ring over the throbbing erection that leapt into his hand. Tears streamed down Orlando’s cheeks to soak into the soft leather of the gag that distended his swollen lips, as Viggo lapped at the precome that was rapidly welling from the tip of Orlando’s cock. “Too much, baby? You want me to stop?” Viggo whispered concernedly.
“Mmm…. Mmmm…. Mmmmph,” Orlando frantically shook his head.
“I take it that means you want me to go on,” Viggo asked, eyes filled with a combination of humour and lust. At the positive nodding of Orlando’s head, Viggo led his trembling lover to the bed.
“Sit there a minute, babe, I’ll be right with you,” Viggo murmured as he slowly undressed. Orlando’s eyes widened in lust as his lover’s toned body was exposed to his gaze, and again in confusion as Viggo dragged a high-backed leather chair into position in front of the open wardrobe door and sat down on it. “Oh, man, this is new,” he thought to himself.
“Come over here, baby, and sit on my lap,” Viggo patted his thigh in invitation. Carefully maneuvering in the high heels without removing his hands from where they were still clasped behind his head, Orlando complied.
Settling Orlando on his lap and guiding his hips backwards, Viggo hissed at the first contact between his weeping cock and the silk of Orlando’s ass.
“Look, baby, look how gorgeous you are,” he whispered huskily. Orlando raised his head and gasped at the sight he saw reflected in the full-length mirror. Sprawled over Viggo’s thighs, with his legs apart and hands behind his head, he looked thoroughly debauched. Red lipstick smeared around his mouth and mascara and eyeliner smudged around his eyes, he looked as though he had been thoroughly fucked before they’d even started.
“Watch us,” Viggo commanded softly as he ran his hands up Orlando’s sides before reaching behind him to unclasp and remove the black strapless bra. Orlando gazed into the mirror, eyes unwavering as he watched Viggo’s hands roam over his chest, lightly pinching and twisting at his nipples, while the blonde head tilted to kiss and bite at the back of Orlando’s neck. As he moaned into the gag, Viggo lifted his head and grinned into the mirror. “I want to hear you,” he said as he reached up and removed the gag from Orlando’s mouth, simultaneously turning Orlando’s head to devour his mouth in a passionate kiss.
Breaking the kiss to catch his breath, Viggo reached down the side of the chair for the tube of lube he had placed there. “Bring your hands down, baby, I want you to prepare yourself for me,” he murmured as he slicked up Orlando’s fingers. He nudged Orlando further forward on his lap and spread his thighs further apart, opening Orlando further to their view in the mirror.
Biting his lower lip, Orlando circled the puckered opening that was exposed by his position on Viggo’s lap, and slowly slid the tip of one finger in. “That’s it, babe, nice and slow,” Viggo said as he continued to kiss and nibble his way up Orlando’s neck. “Now two fingers… that’s it. Open yourself for me, babe. I want to see my big hard cock sliding into you, don’t you?”
Panting softly, Orlando complied, twisting and scissoring his fingers and never taking his eyes off the scene in the mirror before him. “Mmmmm, nice,” Viggo encouraged him. “See how you open up for me? Now add another finger and watch that pretty pink hole stretch wide open to take me.”
Viggo slid his hands up and down Orlando’s thighs, calluses catching slightly on the thin nylon of his stockings, and hands bestowing lingering caresses on the soft golden flesh of his inner thighs. Gasping, Orlando flexed his muscles, thrusting down as far as he could to meet the fingers he was pumping in and out of his ass. He moaned, wordlessly, eyes pleading with Viggo’s in the mirror.
“You want me to touch you, babe? Look at you, stretched open and eager for me. You want me to touch your cock, babe? Not yet - I want you to come while I’m deep inside you,” Viggo picked up the lube again and slicked up his eager cock behind Orlando’s back.
“Okay baby, take your fingers out, and put your hands behind my head,” Viggo instructed. Orlando reluctantly complied, looping his arms back and resting his cuffed wrists on the back of Viggo’s neck. “Look at yourself, all nice and loose, twitching and ready for me.”
Lifting Orlando’s hips slightly, Viggo positioned his dripping cock at the slick entrance to Orlando’s body, and slowly lowered him down until he was fully impaled. “Look, baby, watch my cock sliding in and out of you. See me fucking you, getting so deep inside you,” he rasped, cupping his hands under the cheeks of Orlando’s ass and gently lifting him, before letting him drop again.
All Orlando could do was lie limply in Viggo’s capable arms as his body was moved as Viggo pleased. Avidly, he watched Viggo’s slick cock slowly sliding in and out of his body, moaning incoherently as their position allowed his prostrate to be struck firmly on each stroke. Suddenly, Viggo stopped their movement.
“Wha… what?” Orlando whimpered. “Don’t stop… Vig, please don’t stop!”
“Don’t worry babe, I’m just gonna move us a bit”
Viggo sat slightly more upright in the chair, gasping softly as the movement caused Orlando to shift forward slightly and their balls brushed together briefly. “Hang on, baby, just a second….”
He hooked his right arm under Orlando’s right knee, sliding him to a slightly diagonal position and grasping Orlando’s now purple cock gently His left leg remained in place, splaying Orlando even further open to their combined gazes. His free arm roamed across Orlando’s chest, stroking, teasing and pinching at his nipples, as he began to thrust in earnest, lifting his hips from the chair so Orlando’s full weight bore him down on Viggo’s cock. At the same time, his right hand alternated between stroking Orlando’s cock and balls, and fingering his entrance where they were joined.
Orlando was almost delirious, floating on a cloud of sensation. He was completely unable to move of his own accord, relying on Viggo’s strength to move them both. “Oh fuck… Vig… please… let me come,” he panted. Blinking away his tears, he focused his gaze on the mirror, seeing Viggo’s finger touching his stretched hole. “Okay babe, let go for me,” Viggo whispered brokenly in his ear, simultaneously unsnapping Orlando’s cock ring and sliding one thick finger into Orlando’s hole alongside his cock, pressing firmly on his prostate.
With a scream, Orlando arched his back and came, thick gouts of come arcing over his belly and chest. Viggo couldn’t hold back any longer; Orlando’s spasming muscles gripping him tightly and snapping the last shreds of his control. With a roar that shook the windows, he exploded in his lover’s tight clinging sheath.
After several minutes of trying to catch his breath and convince his heart that smashing its way out through his ribcage was not an option, Viggo moved Orlando’s hands from behind his neck, and unsnapped the handcuffs. Orlando was still unable to move and just lay in his lap like a landed fish, gasping for air. Sweaty, sticky and completely sated, he didn’t even try to move as Viggo picked him up and laid him on the bed, gently removing his shoes, stockings and jewellery. By the time Viggo returned from the bathroom with a damp towel, Orlando was fast asleep, so Viggo gently cleaned him off and laid down next to him, murmuring “I love you, babe,” into the mass of chestnut curls.
An hour or so later, they both awoke refreshed, and lay sleepily contemplating the ceiling and murmuring sweet nothings. Orlando turned to face Viggo and suddenly let out a yelp. “What the fuck!”
Fumbling underneath himself, he pulled out the offending sharp object and displayed a decidedly bent hairpin to Viggo’s amused gaze.
“Fucking thing stuck in my arse. Could have been serious… why don’t they warn you about these things when they put them in?” he grumbled.
Viggo laughed. “I honestly don’t believe that stayed in your hair with all the thrashing around you were doing,” he chuckled, running his fingers through Orlando’s hair and removing another two pins.
“Yeah, well, you can laugh now, filthy human. Better not get your hair cut anytime soon. It’s your turn next!” Orlando shot back at him.
“No way, Elfboy. You’re not going to get me dressed up like that. Besides, I’d make a butt-ugly woman.”
Orlando’s eyes narrowed and an evil glint appeared in the chocolate depths.
“Wanna bet?”
Rating: The overall rating for this challenge is NC-17. Not all fics are, but some will be.
Note: All headings that could reveal the author's identity have been stripped. Authors, please do not reveal yourself yet. Readers, feel free to guess who wrote which fic. A list of authors is here.
For alliwantisanelf, who requested I would like a fic where Orlando loses a bet with Viggo, and his penalty is to have to wear IN PUBLIC what Viggo picks out for him. Viggo drags Orlando to a store like Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood in the mall and goes the whole 9 yards with the outfit he selects, head to toe, no expense spared.
After Orlando's dressed right there in the dressing room (maybe the sales girls get into it too and help with his makeup?), Vig takes him to dinner at the mall as well, either in the food court or a nicer restaurant located there, making him totter along in the heels. Orlando's certain he'll be recognised, but then gets into it when he realizes how beautiful he looks and how people's heads are turning.
Summary: Orlando loses a bet.
Warning: Crossdressing; kink; graphic sex.
Wanna Bet?
Author's Notes: Orlando’s 'little black number' and his to-die-for stockings
~*~
Flashback…
“I tell you, he is!’
“No fuckin’ way, man. Not Uncle George. Never. And gimme some more of that red over there. Stop hogging the vino!”
“He is, I’m telling you. And haven’t you had enough yet? Your eyes are crossing.”
“If he is, I’ll dance down Rodeo Drive in drag, singing “I will Survive”.”
“You’re on, Elfboy. Shake on it…”
End Flashback…
“Mmmmfffff…. Gway…! Wazzamarrer…! Viiiiig… Lemmelone..!” came the muffled voice from beneath the pillow as Viggo shook Orlando’s shoulder firmly to wake his sleeping beauty.
“Come on, Elfboy. We’ve got clothes shopping to do.”
Orlando winced and tried to bury his head more firmly into the mattress. Hang on a minute, did Vig mention shopping…? Vig hated shopping for clothes!
“Okay, okay, I’m up. Gimme coffee… oh, thanks love. Now, talk to me about this shopping….” Orlando’s rumpled head appeared from underneath the pillow that a few minutes ago had been clutched in a death-grip leaving just a few tousled curls sticking out from beneath the cream satin.
“Orli, we have to go shopping to get your outfit. Remember our little bet about Uncle George?” Viggo grinned, an evil twinkle in his eye.
“Errrrrmmm… bet? What bet?” Orlando asked tentatively, firmly hanging on to his Wallace and Grommit coffee mug as though it was a lifeline.
“Don’t you remember last Thanksgiving, sweetheart? When I said that I thought your Uncle George was gay, you said that if he was, you’d dance down Rodeo Drive in drag singing “I Will Survive”? Well, looks like he and his ‘buddy’ Pete have decided to make it official, ‘cos our invitation to their wedding was in the post this morning!”
The colour visibly drained from Orlando’s face. “You mean… Uncle George… and Pete… but… Pete’s his fishing mate! They’ve been friends for years….” His voice trailed off.
“Well, looks like they were doing more on those fishing trips than just dangling bait,” Viggo smirked. “Now, come on, I’ve been dying to see you in heels!”
“Pervert!” Orlando muttered, before deciding to try a different tack. He dropped his head, looking up at Viggo alluringly through a thick line of dark lashes, and allowing his lower lip to tremble slightly.
“But Vig, I can’t do that! What if someone sees me - I’ll be all over the gossip rags tomorrow. Please, don’t make me do this. Besides, it’s not fair. You kept pouring me more and more wine - you know I can’t be held responsible for anything I say when I’m pissed.” He casually drifted his hand up the inside of his lover’s thigh. “I’ll make it up to you some other way….”
“Not a chance, Elfboy. And can the puppy-dog eyes - they’re not gonna work this time. You promised me I could dress you up, and I’m going to. I’ve been waiting a long time for this! Now, get your cute little ass into the bathroom while I make some breakfast. You’re gonna need all your energy today.”
Pouting and grumbling softly to himself Orlando trudged reluctantly to the bathroom, while Viggo bounded down the stairs whistling happily.
~*~
After a quick breakfast of lemon poppyseed muffins (for Viggo) and chocolate-coated cereal (for Orlando) and some lengthy negotiations, the boys agreed on certain adjustments to the original bet. Viggo would dress Orlando as he chose, and Orlando would behave himself during the preparations. In return, Orlando wouldn’t have to dance or sing, but he would have to let Viggo take him out to dinner.
“If I’m recognized, you are dead meat!” Orlando muttered under his breath as they got into the car. But the twinkle in his eye almost matched that in Viggo’s. “‘This could be fun!’” he decided to himself.
He wasn’t thinking that four hours later after a trip to the beauty parlour. He’d been shaved, plucked and waxed; manicured and pedicured; creamed, lotioned and potioned; shampooed, teased and twirled, and was feeling decidedly disgruntled.
“Come on, baby, the worst is over now,” Viggo cooed encouragingly from the driver’s seat. “We only have to pick out your outfit and make-up, and you’re all set. And you know you love trying on clothes.”
“Well, yeah,” Orlando agreed reluctantly. “It’s a good thing my hair is still long enough for them to put it up in this … whatsitsname. It looks really good.”
“It’s called a chignon, baby, and you look gorgeous. Good enough to eat.” Viggo licked his lips lasciviously, raising a giggle from the seat next to him. In truth, Orlando already looked spectacular. His baby-smooth skin was glowing, and the chignon emphasized his high cheekbones and made his dark chocolate eyes look enormous. And the way those artfully-placed tendrils of hair delicately stroked that long neck.... Viggo’s fingers twitched in envy, and he mentally argued the merits of going straight home and fucking Orlando senseless.
“Vig! Watch out! You almost hit that car! How the fuck would I explain this hairdo at the emergency room?” Orlando yelled suddenly. Viggo started and silently vowed to keep his eyes firmly on the road, difficult as it might be.
Within minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of Frederick’s of Hollywood.
“Vig… ummm… what if someone in there recognizes me?”
“Don’t worry, angel, it’s all taken care of. Remember Joanie, one of the assistant dressers on Rings? Well, she works here now as manager of the lingerie department. I called her while you were busy at the salon, and she promised to help us. And we can trust her to keep her mouth shut. She’ll take good care of you, baby.”
Slightly mollified, Orlando slid out of the car. Viggo had to hide a grin at the incongruous figure he posed, the elegant upswept hairstyle contrasting strangely with the ripped jeans, baggy green t-shirt and battered sneakers. Grasping Orlando’s elbow, he guided them through the doors and into the store.
“Relax, baby. This will be fun… you know how much you love dressing up. And I can’t wait to see those luscious long legs of yours in heels and stockings. You know it’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time.” Viggo murmured reassuringly as they took the elevator to the second floor. Orlando visibly relaxed at the warmth in Viggo’s tone. Yes, this could be fun.
As they stepped out of the elevator, a familiar voice piped up “Hello Mr M. Good to see you again. And who’s your lovely companion?”
Viggo grinned. “Hello Joanie, good to see you again. You remember Orlietta from New Zealand, surely?” he answered suavely, ignoring the muffled snort that came from slightly behind him.
Joanie grinned conspiratorially, her green eyes sparkling with repressed humour. “Oh yes, I remember. My, you’re looking lovelier than ever. Now, please come this way - I’ve reserved a private dressing room for you.” Taking Orlando’s arm, the diminutive woman led them through a discretely hidden door into a gold and white room with mirrored walls, a curtained-off area and a large, comfortable-looking couch.
“Now Mr M., what did you have in mind for… errmm… Orlietta?” she asked.
“Joanie, please call me Viggo. Something very sexy but not slutty; preferably black. We have reservations for dinner tonight.” Viggo replied quickly before “Orlietta” could chip in with any dubious colour choices.
“Fine, just take a seat and I’ll bring in a rack of options. Will you just be wanting a dress, or are we working from the skin out?”
“Oh, definitely skin out,” was the smug response, as “Orlietta” let out a small squeak.
“Fine, I’ll be right back,” Joanie threw over her shoulder as she bustled out of the room.
As soon she was out of the room, Orlando bounced into Viggo’s lap and flung his arms around his neck. “Thank you for arranging this for me,” he whispered. “I’d have died if you’d made me to go a store with loads of people around gawking at me.” And he pulled Viggo into a loving kiss that rapidly turned passionate.
Before things could escalate, Joanie was back with a rack of assorted clothing. “Here we go, I’m sure there’s something suitable here,” she said. “Now, I’ll leave you alone to browse - I’ll just be outside the door if you need me.
Orlando bounded off Viggo’s lap and over to the rack, pawing through the hanging items before being sternly ordered to “Sit down!” Viggo sauntered over and ran his eye appraisingly over the small collection of dresses. Joanie must have a very good eye, he mused to himself, noting that all the choices were of a suitable size, and nothing had plunging necklines. He pulled two dresses off the rack and examined them before deciding on one and tossing it to Orlando.
“Here baby, try this on while I decide what you’re going to wear underneath it.” Orlando grabbed the dress and went into the curtained alcove. A few minutes later, after some extremely muffled cursing, Orlando popped his head around the curtain.
“Vig, I can’t get this thing on without messing up my hair. Can you come and help me?” he whined.
“No, baby. If I come in there with you, we’ll never get to dinner and I want to show you off. I’ll go get Joanie, and then go and get changed myself. Here, put this on in the meantime.” He handed Orlando what looked like a handful of lace and string.
Orlando raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow, but took the item and held it up. “Oh, fuck…” he breathed, eyes glowing. “This is gorgeous!” He disappeared back behind the curtain to slip into the black and red lacy satin thong, admiring in the mirror the way the double side straps emphasized the slenderness of his hips. He cupped his genitals gently, loving the feel of the slippery satin against his cock, and appreciating the fact that the tightness of the thong would help disguise his bulge. He jumped back with a squeak as the curtain was twitched aside, cupping both hands protectively in front of himself.
“Only me, no need to be shy now. You have nothing I haven’t seen before,” Joanie trilled as she waltzed into the alcove. “Now, let’s see what Mr… Viggo has chosen for you. Oh, very nice, good choice. The neckline and sleeves will de-emphasise your shoulders, we can get away with a padded strapless bra, and the cutouts will make your waist look even slimmer,” she smiled. “Back in a tick.”
Within minutes, Orlando was encased in a black padded strapless bra, and Joanie was easing the dress carefully over his chignon. “Oh, my. Look at you,” she murmured. Orlando turned to the mirror, and stared, open-mouthed. In front of him was a tall, slender, beautiful, doe-eyed… creature! The black dress was cut straight across in an off-the-shoulder manner, with a shoestring strap over each shoulder. The sides were cut away, and the cutout carried on across the back of the dress, showing his tanned back from just below the bra to his waist. The skirt was straight, with a thigh-high side slit, and a cascade of delicate silver chains framed his hips. Joanie grinned at him. “Now, honey, what size shoe do you take?”
“Ermm, I’m a size ten. Do you have anything in that size?” Orlando answered absently, still arching and twisting to admire himself in the mirror.
“Oh, I’m sure I can find something,” she grinned at her preening customer.
Moments later, she was back with a pair of black high-heeled pumps with cutout sides and delicate ankle straps. “The ankle straps will give you a bit of extra support and make them a bit easier to walk in,” she explained. Orlando wasn’t really listening as he was too busy caressing the soft leather of the pumps, tracing his fingers slowly up and down the stiletto heels. “And I thought these, just to give Viggo a bit of a thrill,” she said, handing Orlando a pair or sheer black thigh-high stockings. She knelt to help him put them on and he gasped to see the criss-cross satin ribbons lacing up the back. “Oh, yeah, Vig will love these,” he grinned.
“One last thing,” she nodded approvingly. She popped her head around the curtain and called “Ruthie!”.
“Who’s Ruthie?” Orlando demanded, still not happy about being seen by anyone other than Joanie and Viggo.
“She’s a friend of mine, who works in makeup. A very good friend, if you know what I mean,” Joanie winked at him. “I asked her to help, and she knows to keep quiet - not that I think there’s any danger of anyone recognizing you now, even your own mother.”
Orlando smiled back at the little woman who was helping him make Viggo’s fantasy a reality. “Okay, bring her in. Just promise me she won’t make me look like a tart.”
“I promise.” Came a husky female voice, as Ruthie stepped around the curtain, smiling fondly at Joanie. Orlando could feel the vibe between the two women, and felt much happier about Ruthie being there.
~*~
Forty five minutes later, Joanie and Ruthie pronounced him “done”. They stepped around the curtain to announce him to Viggo, who was by now fidgeting nervously on the couch. After changing into his tux in the men’s room, he’d sat for what seemed like hours trying to hear the hushed voices and muted giggles from behind the thick curtains. He hoped he wasn’t pushing Orlando too far with his choice of dress….
“Viggo, your dinner-date is here!” Joanie dimpled.
Orlando stepped around the curtain, and Viggo’s jaw dropped.
“Hey gorgeous. Are you my date for tonight?” Orlando purred seductively. He sauntered over to where Viggo stood awestruck, hips swaying as he used the grace he’d learned as Legolas to balance on the high heels. “Vig… Vig…, anybody in there?” He grinned as he snapped his fingers in front of Viggo’s eyes, and spun in a slow pirouette. “You like?”
Viggo shut his jaw with an audible click of teeth, and swallowed hard. “Ummm… you look… you look… amazing,” he stuttered, unable to quite process what he was seeing. “Fuck, I had no idea!”
The vision in front of him quite literally took his breath away. Tall, slender, with drop-dead gorgeous goes-on-forever legs encased in black silk, hints of tawny flesh showing at the waistline and just a hint of satin-smooth thigh peeping through the slit in the skirt. And those stockings…!
Orlando visibly preened and fluttered his long black mascara-ed lashes. He’d been a bit nervous about the whole dress-hair-and-makeup thing, but it was worth it just to see Viggo’s reaction. Which was a very favourable reaction, judging by the large bulge that was currently tenting the front of his pants.
“My, how handsome you look in your tuxedo,” he purred. “I take it we’re going somewhere special for dinner?”
“T… t… to Chez Jacques,” Viggo managed to blurt out. He silently raised a prayer to whatever deities were watching that he could restrain himself from just throwing Orlando… Orlietta, he corrected himself… down and ravishing him on the shop floor. Taking a deep breath to compose himself somewhat, he turned to Joanie and Ruthie, who were looking on fondly, standing hand-in-hand. “Ladies, thank you for doing such a wonderful job. You’ve exceeded all my expectations,” he effused. “You have my credit card number, and whatever it cost, it’s worth triple. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a table waiting.” He took Orlietta’s arm, and bowing to the ladies, he led his date out of the store.
~*~
The ride to the mall was interminable for Viggo. His knuckles were white as he fought to keep his hands on the steering wheel and off his companion. ‘Orlietta’ chattered away happily, telling him all about how Joanie and Ruthie had helped him get ready and taught him how to walk in the heels, and didn’t seem to notice the lack of response from the car’s other occupant.
All the way through the mall to the secluded restaurant, Orlando preened and blushed prettily as heads turned in his direction. Viggo smiled smugly in a you-can-look-but-only-I-can-touch way, until a sudden jerk and pull on his arm stopped him short.
“Ow! Fuckit!” burst an extremely masculine and out-of-character voice, causing one man to trip over his own feet, and several others to raise their eyebrows in shock.
Viggo turned to see his date standing in the doorway of a store.
“What are you doing there, babe? What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.
“Oh, Sir Galahad. Won’t you help a damsel in distress?” pouted Orlando. “My heel is stuck in this doormat, and there’s no way I can bend down to get it loose and remain ladylike,” he winked at Viggo.
Trying desperately to keep a straight face, Viggo knelt on the mat to extricate the delicate heel which was jammed into the web of the doormat. He couldn’t resist running his hand up Orlando’s slender, stockinged calf, admiring the way the heels pulled the muscle taut. His composure was not helped by the whisper of “Mmmm…, while you’re down there.” from Orlando. Cursing under his breath, Viggo got back to his feet and straightened his jacket, desperately trying to disguise exactly how turned on he was.
At the restaurant, things didn’t improve for Viggo. He groaned audibly as Orlando tucked into his starter of asparagus spears in butter sauce with diligent applications of tongue to both vegetables and fingers; and broke out into a sweat as spaghetti was daintily sucked through pursed lips. Looking round for something to take his mind off what else those lips could be sucking, he noticed several men at other tables casting appreciative glances at his date. He looked back to his dinner companion, almost blinded by the candlelight reflecting off the glittering diamante earrings and necklace. Throwing his napkin to the table, he growled “That’s it. Let’s go!”
“Not a chance, caveman,” Orlando grinned. “I want to dance. What kind of cheap date do you think I am? Did you think I’d let you drag me off to bed halfway through dinner? I want to show off - I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing!” Viggo’s hand was taken in a firm grip and in a daze he was led to the small, intimate dance floor. Orlando immediately pressed full-length against him, wrapping his arms around Viggo’s neck and swaying gently to the soft piano music.
“Are you deliberately trying to torture me?” Viggo ground through clenched teeth. The feel of Orlando pressed against him was driving him crazy with lust. “Do you want me to throw you across the nearest table and fuck you right here and now?”
Orlando’s immaculately made-up eyes opened wide, and he took a half step back. “Sorry, baby, I’ll behave. It’s just I feel so sexy, all dressed up for you, and I want to enjoy it.”
“No, I’m sorry, baby. You look so hot, all I can think about is taking you home, unwrapping you slowly, and burying myself deep inside you. I can’t help myself,” Viggo whispered.
“Then let’s go,” Orlando said firmly, dragging Viggo off the dance floor and out of the restaurant, pausing only long enough for Viggo to thrust a wad of bills at the startled maitre’d.
~*~
If Viggo thought the ride to the restaurant was difficult, it paled in comparison to the ride home. Eventually, they pulled into the driveway of the L.A. home he shared with Orlando. Getting out of the car, he went around to the passenger side to assist Orlando out of the car.
Once inside, he dragged his giggling companion directly to the bedroom.
“Don’t move,” he growled. Orlando took one look at the flashing eyes and dilated pupils and smiled seductively.
“Don’t you want me to strip for you?” he purred, swaying his hips slightly. “Or get down on my knees and suck you - take the edge off, lover?”
“Yes…. No…. I don’t know!” Viggo muttered frantically. Orlando decided to take matters into his own hands. Dropping gracefully to his knees, he unzipped Viggo’s pants with his long, scarlet-tipped fingers, and slowly took out the throbbing purple organ that was doing its best to break out on it’s own volition.
“Mmmmm…. Viggo-flavoured lipgloss, my favourite.”
Viggo moaned as Orlando rubbed the weeping tip of Viggo’s cock over his scarlet lips, making them shine in the dim light of the bedside lamp that was the only illumination in the room. Delicately, Orlando licked up and down the pulsating vein, before parting his lips and swallowing Viggo to the root, at the same time humming appreciatively. Viggo was so wound up, he gasped and came immediately, knees sagging and hands clutching desperately at Orlando’s shoulders.
As soon as Viggo could stand on his own, he took charge again. “Stand up,” he rasped. Orlando got to his feet again, the black dress sliding silkily down over his hips and clearly showing just how turned on he was. Delicately, he lifted his hand and used his little finger to collect a stray drop of come from the corner of his mouth, pink tongue slipping between the scarlet lips to daintily lap at it.
Viggo stalked over to the closet, and rummaged around muttering to himself. “Too damned cheeky. I’ll shut him up. Show him who’s in charge here,” as he pulled various items from the shelves. When Orlando opened his mouth to comment, a black leather gag was slipped between his lips and fastened at the pack of his head. Viggo’s hands traveled up his thighs from just above his knees, pushing the hem of Orlando’s dress upwards and over his hips. Pausing for a second to remove the delicate chain belt, Viggo slid the dress carefully up over Orlando’s head and tossed it to the floor. He stepped around to face Orlando, sliding his hands down Orlando’s arms before fastening them together with a set of chrome handcuffs.
“Clasp your hands behind your head,” Viggo barked, and Orlando was quick to comply. Viggo felt his cock twitch and start to fill again as his eyes hungrily devoured the vision that stood stretched out before him. The pose displayed Orlando’s body in stark relief, the shadows formed by the dim light emphasizing the dips and hollows of his torso. Dropping to his knees behind Orlando, Viggo started to lick and nibble his way up Orlando’s legs, starting just above the heel and taking exquisite care not to miss a single centimeter of skin exposed by the criss-cross ribbons lacing the backs of the stockings. By the time he got to the top of the first stocking, Orlando was visibly trembling; by the second, he was outright shaking and when Viggo eased the black and red satin and lace g-string off using only his teeth, plaintive whimpers were escaping from behind the gag and Orlando’s hips were jerking in a staccato rhythm..
“Oh no, baby. You’ve been teasing me all evening - you’re not gonna get off that easily,” Viggo growled. “No way are you coming yet.” Rising to his feet, he stepped in front of Orlando and slipped a silver cock-ring over the throbbing erection that leapt into his hand. Tears streamed down Orlando’s cheeks to soak into the soft leather of the gag that distended his swollen lips, as Viggo lapped at the precome that was rapidly welling from the tip of Orlando’s cock. “Too much, baby? You want me to stop?” Viggo whispered concernedly.
“Mmm…. Mmmm…. Mmmmph,” Orlando frantically shook his head.
“I take it that means you want me to go on,” Viggo asked, eyes filled with a combination of humour and lust. At the positive nodding of Orlando’s head, Viggo led his trembling lover to the bed.
“Sit there a minute, babe, I’ll be right with you,” Viggo murmured as he slowly undressed. Orlando’s eyes widened in lust as his lover’s toned body was exposed to his gaze, and again in confusion as Viggo dragged a high-backed leather chair into position in front of the open wardrobe door and sat down on it. “Oh, man, this is new,” he thought to himself.
“Come over here, baby, and sit on my lap,” Viggo patted his thigh in invitation. Carefully maneuvering in the high heels without removing his hands from where they were still clasped behind his head, Orlando complied.
Settling Orlando on his lap and guiding his hips backwards, Viggo hissed at the first contact between his weeping cock and the silk of Orlando’s ass.
“Look, baby, look how gorgeous you are,” he whispered huskily. Orlando raised his head and gasped at the sight he saw reflected in the full-length mirror. Sprawled over Viggo’s thighs, with his legs apart and hands behind his head, he looked thoroughly debauched. Red lipstick smeared around his mouth and mascara and eyeliner smudged around his eyes, he looked as though he had been thoroughly fucked before they’d even started.
“Watch us,” Viggo commanded softly as he ran his hands up Orlando’s sides before reaching behind him to unclasp and remove the black strapless bra. Orlando gazed into the mirror, eyes unwavering as he watched Viggo’s hands roam over his chest, lightly pinching and twisting at his nipples, while the blonde head tilted to kiss and bite at the back of Orlando’s neck. As he moaned into the gag, Viggo lifted his head and grinned into the mirror. “I want to hear you,” he said as he reached up and removed the gag from Orlando’s mouth, simultaneously turning Orlando’s head to devour his mouth in a passionate kiss.
Breaking the kiss to catch his breath, Viggo reached down the side of the chair for the tube of lube he had placed there. “Bring your hands down, baby, I want you to prepare yourself for me,” he murmured as he slicked up Orlando’s fingers. He nudged Orlando further forward on his lap and spread his thighs further apart, opening Orlando further to their view in the mirror.
Biting his lower lip, Orlando circled the puckered opening that was exposed by his position on Viggo’s lap, and slowly slid the tip of one finger in. “That’s it, babe, nice and slow,” Viggo said as he continued to kiss and nibble his way up Orlando’s neck. “Now two fingers… that’s it. Open yourself for me, babe. I want to see my big hard cock sliding into you, don’t you?”
Panting softly, Orlando complied, twisting and scissoring his fingers and never taking his eyes off the scene in the mirror before him. “Mmmmm, nice,” Viggo encouraged him. “See how you open up for me? Now add another finger and watch that pretty pink hole stretch wide open to take me.”
Viggo slid his hands up and down Orlando’s thighs, calluses catching slightly on the thin nylon of his stockings, and hands bestowing lingering caresses on the soft golden flesh of his inner thighs. Gasping, Orlando flexed his muscles, thrusting down as far as he could to meet the fingers he was pumping in and out of his ass. He moaned, wordlessly, eyes pleading with Viggo’s in the mirror.
“You want me to touch you, babe? Look at you, stretched open and eager for me. You want me to touch your cock, babe? Not yet - I want you to come while I’m deep inside you,” Viggo picked up the lube again and slicked up his eager cock behind Orlando’s back.
“Okay baby, take your fingers out, and put your hands behind my head,” Viggo instructed. Orlando reluctantly complied, looping his arms back and resting his cuffed wrists on the back of Viggo’s neck. “Look at yourself, all nice and loose, twitching and ready for me.”
Lifting Orlando’s hips slightly, Viggo positioned his dripping cock at the slick entrance to Orlando’s body, and slowly lowered him down until he was fully impaled. “Look, baby, watch my cock sliding in and out of you. See me fucking you, getting so deep inside you,” he rasped, cupping his hands under the cheeks of Orlando’s ass and gently lifting him, before letting him drop again.
All Orlando could do was lie limply in Viggo’s capable arms as his body was moved as Viggo pleased. Avidly, he watched Viggo’s slick cock slowly sliding in and out of his body, moaning incoherently as their position allowed his prostrate to be struck firmly on each stroke. Suddenly, Viggo stopped their movement.
“Wha… what?” Orlando whimpered. “Don’t stop… Vig, please don’t stop!”
“Don’t worry babe, I’m just gonna move us a bit”
Viggo sat slightly more upright in the chair, gasping softly as the movement caused Orlando to shift forward slightly and their balls brushed together briefly. “Hang on, baby, just a second….”
He hooked his right arm under Orlando’s right knee, sliding him to a slightly diagonal position and grasping Orlando’s now purple cock gently His left leg remained in place, splaying Orlando even further open to their combined gazes. His free arm roamed across Orlando’s chest, stroking, teasing and pinching at his nipples, as he began to thrust in earnest, lifting his hips from the chair so Orlando’s full weight bore him down on Viggo’s cock. At the same time, his right hand alternated between stroking Orlando’s cock and balls, and fingering his entrance where they were joined.
Orlando was almost delirious, floating on a cloud of sensation. He was completely unable to move of his own accord, relying on Viggo’s strength to move them both. “Oh fuck… Vig… please… let me come,” he panted. Blinking away his tears, he focused his gaze on the mirror, seeing Viggo’s finger touching his stretched hole. “Okay babe, let go for me,” Viggo whispered brokenly in his ear, simultaneously unsnapping Orlando’s cock ring and sliding one thick finger into Orlando’s hole alongside his cock, pressing firmly on his prostate.
With a scream, Orlando arched his back and came, thick gouts of come arcing over his belly and chest. Viggo couldn’t hold back any longer; Orlando’s spasming muscles gripping him tightly and snapping the last shreds of his control. With a roar that shook the windows, he exploded in his lover’s tight clinging sheath.
After several minutes of trying to catch his breath and convince his heart that smashing its way out through his ribcage was not an option, Viggo moved Orlando’s hands from behind his neck, and unsnapped the handcuffs. Orlando was still unable to move and just lay in his lap like a landed fish, gasping for air. Sweaty, sticky and completely sated, he didn’t even try to move as Viggo picked him up and laid him on the bed, gently removing his shoes, stockings and jewellery. By the time Viggo returned from the bathroom with a damp towel, Orlando was fast asleep, so Viggo gently cleaned him off and laid down next to him, murmuring “I love you, babe,” into the mass of chestnut curls.
An hour or so later, they both awoke refreshed, and lay sleepily contemplating the ceiling and murmuring sweet nothings. Orlando turned to face Viggo and suddenly let out a yelp. “What the fuck!”
Fumbling underneath himself, he pulled out the offending sharp object and displayed a decidedly bent hairpin to Viggo’s amused gaze.
“Fucking thing stuck in my arse. Could have been serious… why don’t they warn you about these things when they put them in?” he grumbled.
Viggo laughed. “I honestly don’t believe that stayed in your hair with all the thrashing around you were doing,” he chuckled, running his fingers through Orlando’s hair and removing another two pins.
“Yeah, well, you can laugh now, filthy human. Better not get your hair cut anytime soon. It’s your turn next!” Orlando shot back at him.
“No way, Elfboy. You’re not going to get me dressed up like that. Besides, I’d make a butt-ugly woman.”
Orlando’s eyes narrowed and an evil glint appeared in the chocolate depths.
“Wanna bet?”