Return to Viggo/Orlando by author, title, or rating. Cycle-Pathic
Rating: NC-17 ~~~~ The front wheel of the bike impacted the right front fender of the car exiting the garage. The cyclist managed to keep from going over the hood, but the collision left a sizable dent in the vehicle. The driver threw the car in park and jumped out. "Are you okay?" asked the handsome blonde man. "Yeah. I'm a little shaken, but otherwise I'm fine," the cyclist said in a British accent. "Then would you mind telling me why you felt compelled to wreck my car?" The young man's eyes widened. "It was an accident." "Did you go temporarily blind or something?" the driver asked. "No, I was…" "You were what? Playing with your Ipod? Looking at some girl's ass? Jerking off? What?" "Take it easy, mister. It's just a ding." "Just a ding? Do you know what kind of car this is?" "Yeah. It's an Aston-Martin. A real beauty too." "It was," the man corrected. "Now it's imperfect." "It can be fixed," the kid shrugged. "Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace a panel on a car like this?" "A lot?" the cyclist guessed. "All right," the driver said in exasperation. "Let's exchange information. Unless you want to call a cop?" "No, we can settle this between us," the young man said quickly. "Fine. I'm Viggo Mortensen." "Orlando Bloom," the Brit said. "I don't have a U. S. drivers' license." "How about a green card? You got one of those?" "I'm a student," Orlando said. "I don't need a green card, just a visa." "Uh-huh, and I suppose you haven't worked since you've been here," the man said, eyeing the backpack with the logo Zoney Express printed on it. "What are you? A lawyer or something?" "You're a bright kid. Tell me you have insurance." Orlando shook his head slowly, suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. "So… you can't pay to have my car fixed. I guess we're going to need the cops after all." "Hold on a moment," Orlando said. "We don't have to involve law enforcement. I'm sure we can work something out." Viggo was so angry that he hadn't taken a good look at the young man. Now he noticed that the cyclist had the long lean limbs of a colt that even at rest betokened speed, strength and grace. He had the face of a naiad, dominated by soulful dark eyes and framed by tendrils of dark, silky-looking hair. Smooth dewy skin… "How old are you?" Viggo asked abruptly. "Twenty-four. What difference does that make?" "That depends," Viggo smiled. Orlando felt threatened suddenly, as though the man had shown him a gun. "On what?" Viggo's vivid blue gaze skimmed the sleek contours of the young man's physique in the body-hugging Lycra tank and thigh-length shorts. "I want you to handle a special package for me, messenger boy. If you say yes, your age becomes a critical factor. I assume you can prove you're consenting age?" "My passport is in my knapsack," Orlando said, his heart racing and his mouth dry. "Excellent. So do you have time for a special delivery?" "You won't call the cops and you'll forget about the car?" the young man clarified. "I'll even pay for your bike," Viggo said. "I don't know. This is really…" "Sordid? Sleazy? Slimy? May I remind you that I am in fact a lawyer?" "It's blackmail," Orlando said, having found the word he was searching for. "Actually, it's coercion," Viggo said, "and I believe I have you over a barrel, or at least I hope to in the near future. If not a barrel, then perhaps the hood of this car." Orlando swallowed hard and tried to assess the likelihood that this man would call the police on the anorexic cell phone he was holding. A handsome man, moving into middle age, was the Brit's estimation, but a lot of lawyers were good-looking. They had the time and money to spend on clothes, gyms and grooming. This Mortensen guy's jacket alone probably cost three or four thousand dollars and he drove an Astin-Martin, which was probably just the sports model of a whole fleet of vehicles. The cyclist met the lawyer's eyes and looked quickly away from the chill stare. "Where - where would we go?" "This is a private garage," Viggo said. "I could back up and you could bring your bike inside." "You're not serious?" "Absolutely. I'm also horny and looking at your rock hard backside in that shiny black Lycra is only exacerbating my condition." Deciding that this man would indeed call the police, Orlando made his decision. "No kinky stuff," he said. Viggo gave the young man a droll look. "I've coerced you into having sex with me on the hood of my car in the middle of the day in public. That's enough kink for me." "Let's go then." Viggo backed the car down the ramp and waited for the young man to walk his wobbling bicycle through the door. The lawyer punched a code on a dash-mounted remote and the garage door came down. Backing the jet-black car into a parking space, Viggo waited for the Brit to join him. While Orlando was leaning his bike against the wall, Viggo took a few items from the glove box. Viggo got out of the car, slipping the small objects into his jacket pocket. Closing the door, he faced Orlando and smiled pleasantly. "Are we ready?" he asked. Orlando took a deep breath and started to go down on his knees. "What are you doing?" Viggo asked. Orlando looked puzzled. "Don't you want me to blow you?" he asked. "No, I don't want you to blow me," Viggo said. "I want your ass." "I don't think I can do that," Orlando said honestly. "Look, kid, it's either me or the boys down at county lock-up. Believe me, they won't ask as nicely as me and they're not averse to sharing, if you know what I mean." "All right," Orlando said miserably, "but you have to wear protection." "I'm afraid that's a deal-breaker," the lawyer said. "I ride bareback, or you get a ride downtown." "You're a bastard!" "Did I mention that I was a lawyer?" Viggo said. "Now, take your shorts off, but leave the shirt and shoes. Face the car and put your hands on either side of the dent. Yeah, like that. That's good. Damn, you're fine! Spread your feet a little farther apart. Yeah, that's it. Now don't move." Viggo took a tiny digital camera from his pocket and took several photos. The young man's pale, sculpted backside, beneath the hem of the crimson tank top, contrasted sharply and most aesthetically with the diamond black finish of the car. Dropping the camera back in his pocket, Viggo retrieved the lubricant. Running a hand over the hard muscles of the cyclist's buttocks, the lawyer pulled them apart. With a glistening finger, Viggo prodded Orlando's tightly clenched opening. "Relax," Viggo advised. Orlando tried, but it was difficult. The idea that the big door might roll up at any moment was not conducive to calm. When the man's finger pushed its way into him, Orlando tensed up completely. "Relax," Viggo repeated. "Everybody who parks here is at work. No one is going to come in. Do you think I'd risk getting caught with you? That's better. Yeah. There you go. Relax." The man's voice was soothing as his finger moved in Orlando's sheath, sliding deeper, probing insistently. The young man shivered as the lawyer found his prostate and concentrated on the area. The persistent pressure was fast wearing down Orlando's inhibitions. "How does that feel?" the lawyer asked. "Does it feel good?" "I have to talk to you too?" Orlando groaned. "I'll buy you the most expensive bike they make for a few smutty words." "I don't care," Orlando said candidly. "Just keep doing that." Smiling, Viggo withdrew his finger and applied more lubricant. Orlando moaned when the slippery digit entered him again and went unerringly to his most sensitive spot. The young man's cock rose and brushed the polished fender. As the intimate massage continued, Orlando leaned forward, pressing the underside of his erection to the smooth enamel finish. "Yeah," Viggo murmured. "That's my boy. This turns you on, doesn't it? Fuck that fender. Go on. You know you want to. I'm not going to tell anybody. Go ahead. You fucked it up; you might as well fuck it." With a deep groan, Orlando pumped his hips slowly, rubbing his arousal against the panel. The cool metal felt good against his feverish flesh and the friction doubled the sensations of pleasure. The young man became less and less self-conscious as the fondling continued until he was moaning loudly and pushing demandingly against Viggo's hand. "I could tell you'd be a firecracker once you were lit," Viggo said, "but I'd like to hear you go off as well as watch the fireworks." Orlando drew a deep breath and said the first thing that came to mind. "I didn't know anything could feel so good," he panted. "Then you'd best hold on to something," Viggo said, "'cause you ain't seen nothin' yet." Orlando cried out as the man pulled him backward slightly and took hold of his cock. The cyclist's knees failed him as his arousal was pumped and he had to lean back against the lawyer. His breath came shorter and the tension in his lower belly coiled tighter. "You're close, aren't you?" Viggo said in the boy's ear. When Orlando indicated that he was indeed about to explode, Viggo released him, shoving him back against the fender. The young man leaned there, catching his breath, as the lawyer unfastened his pants. When Orlando glanced at the man again, Viggo was greasing an erection of impressive length. Orlando turned back around and looked down at his reflection in the mirror bright finish of the Aston. In another moment, his cheeks were being spread and the fisted head of the man's cock was at his entrance. The young man flattened his palms against the hood and tried to relax. "Good boy," Viggo said, smacking Orlando's ass lightly. Slowly, inexorably, the big cock inched its way into the tight sheath. Orlando leaned forward until he was lying on the hood with his arms outstretched. As Viggo sheathed his rod, he took the time to admire the tableau. It was perfect. The young man's smooth-skinned limbs splayed against the black car. The blood red of the cyclist's shirt. The sight of his own cock disappearing into the lithe body. Perfect. Viggo moved his hips, eliciting a deep groan from Orlando. "You like that, don't you?" the man said. "Want to feel it again?" Orlando caught his breath as the big shaft shifted in his sheath. "Yes, I like it," he whispered. "You want more?" "Yes, I want more," the words were becoming easier to say. "Give me more." Viggo pushed a bit farther into the tight heat, controlling the urge to bury his length in one hard thrust. Despite his demeanor, it was not his purpose to cause pain. "That's it," the lawyer said, when he was fully sheathed. "You took it all." Orlando shifted his feet. "Come on, mister, move it or take it out." Viggo took a firm hold of the slim hips and backed his cock out halfway. With a smooth roll of his hips, he pushed back in. Orlando moaned, his fingers scrabbling at the hood as the man thrust steadily. The cyclist had just become accustomed to the intrusion when Viggo pulled out all the way. "Not good enough," the man panted. "Turn over; I want to see your face." "Why?" Orlando asked. "Because you're pretty. Don't tell me no one's pointed that out before." With evident reluctance, the young man leaned back against the fender. "Get right up on the hood," Viggo said. "Yeah, like that. Now spread your legs. Go on. Nothing to be shy about here; I've already had my cock in your ass. Wider. Yeah. Goddamn, you're beautiful from top to bottom." Moving between the cyclist's long legs, Viggo reinserted the tip of his rod. Stroking the smooth skin of the young man's thighs, the lawyer thrust delicately until Orlando's moans changed in quality. "Am I hitting the spot?" Viggo asked. "God, yes!" Orlando cried out. "Keep doing whatever you're doing." "I thought you'd like that," Viggo said smugly. "Hang on boy, the ride's about to get bumpy." Hang on to what? Orlando thought. This sleek vehicle had no protrusions to spoil the aerodynamic shape. All practical thoughts were driven from his head a moment later when the lawyer began to thrust. Viggo drove smoothly into the narrow passage, consistently striking the spot that made Orlando squirm against the black lacquer. The boy's hands moved restlessly, seeking purchase and not finding it. When his partner began to inch backward involuntarily, Viggo lifted the cyclist's legs to his shoulders. Orlando groaned as he was penetrated to his core, thrashing his head from side to side, as the big shaft plunged deep and withdrew. The young man's intense arousal spurred Viggo's excitement, and the lawyer increased the power and speed of his stroke. It was becoming difficult to keep a grip on sweat slick flesh as the two men strained toward release. "Are you going to come?" Viggo panted, when a bone deep shudder ran the length of his partner's body. "Ahhh… yeah, God yeah, gonna come, oh, oh, oh my God, don't stop, fuck me, yeah, fuck me, fuck me. Oh, God, yeah! Oh! Oh!" Orlando's voice deteriorated into a series of loud moans. "Goddamn, you're so hot," the lawyer said, "and so beautiful. You're making me come just watching you come." Orlando gave a strangled cry as the man took hold of his leaking erection. Viggo squeezed the straining rod, pumping it firmly to the rhythm of his thrusts. Abruptly, the young man stiffened in a rictus of ecstasy, his back arching off the hood as his cock spurted. "Perfect," the lawyer gasped as his cock was wrung by happily contracting sheath muscles. Without missing a beat, Viggo drove into the quivering socket, sinking his full length in the pleasure-dazed boy. Lowering one of Orlando's legs, the lawyer pushed the young man's knee flat against the hood giving him an unobstructed view. The sight of his cock pistoning in and out heightened the man's pleasure to a dizzying degree. Losing control, he slammed into the lethargic body with abandon. "You're making me come," Viggo panted. "I can't hold it. Tell me you want it." Orlando stirred and moaned. "Please," he whimpered. "Fill me up." "Ahhhhhhh," Viggo groaned deep in his chest and lodged his length in the tight passage. As his seed spooled out into the young man, the lawyer absently stroked the cyclist's limp cock. Orlando made a sound of protest and moved agitatedly against the hood. Capturing his partner's fidgeting hands, Viggo unsheathed pulled the young man up into an embrace. "Damn that was a good one!" the man said. "No arguments here," Orlando murmured. "You were so nasty, babe. You'd make a great lawyer." "Fuck you," Viggo said. "You already did. Very well, I might add." "You seemed to be getting into it. Of course, it was your idea." "We can stop role-playing if it bothers you," Orlando said. "No, that's okay," Viggo said quickly. "If it makes you happy, I'll be happy to play along." Orlando smirked at his lover. "You're too good to me," he said. "And you're too tempting. Mind putting those shorts back on? Although they hide nothing, come to think of it." "That's why I wore them, you beautiful, naive man. Let's get something to eat." "I'm at your command," Viggo said lightly. "Leave the bike. We'll get it later." "Was it worth dinging your precious baby?" Orlando asked. "Are you talking about the car or yourself?" Orlando grinned. "I love you, babe," he said, getting into the car. "Yeah? Well next time, you can be the lawyer." "Fuck you," Orlando laughed. "Anytime, anywhere," Viggo assured his boy and put the car in gear. THE END If you enjoyed this story, please send FB to Bailey. Return to Viggo/Orlando by author, title, or rating. This page is supposed to exist within a frame, if it does not, please click here. |