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Sidi Knows Fox-Piss Equals Romance	By : writearts2 Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 1137 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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FIC: Sidi Knows Fox-Piss Equals Romance (2/2) V/O AU NC-17 romp
Author/Email: sandyg writearts2@verizon.net
Pairing: VM/OB with the clever Sidi as their matchmaker
Rating: RPS NC-17
Summary: The intrepid Sidi smells out hot romance for his furless, rehab-trapped friend in the form of a grungy, society drop-out. Beside their lusting cocks whatever could the two men have in common? Hmmm.
Content: Coarse language (gee, my men swear? Heavens to Betsy!), sweaty boy flirting and sweaty, smelly m/m sex.
Disclaimer: No money made from any wonderful delusion involving these men. Not one iota. I also have no idea about their personal hygiene or if they smell like rotten onions when they fuck.

As the cloying humidity notched toward human mouth heat a steely grayblue gaze slid against sultry, burnt honey temptation then lingered in full approval. Wow, a man could get lost in that wide, velvety cosmos. Hoppin’ Horny Toads, those high cheekbones belonged in some cosmetic surgery hall of fame.

After he could finally blink like a functioning human Viggo held his grubby hands up shoulder high and grinned. "Hey, look, no problem. You see, your dog smelled the fox piss I treat my garden with and the smell got to him. He didn’t harm anything, hell, the vines will recover." But if Viggo didn’t strip this dripping boy naked soon his own stiff vine might feel extremely displeased.

During Mr. Buff Pec’s friendly speech the fashion-minded Orlando frantically wondered if his wet shorts jammed up his crack again, shit, yeah, he felt them groping his ass but this wasn’t the time for crack-picking! Although judging from how this half-naked dude made sexy goo-goo eyes at Orlando he might happily perform the honors himself with his tongue. Uhhahg. Small talk, remember the small talk. "Hey, thanks for not acting pissed-off. When Sidi ran from me I felt positive someone would shoot him because they’d think him rabid or something." Orlando huffed a bit and tossed his hair. "I mean please, this area isn’t exactly tolerant to strangers."

OK, this beauty was a little quick to make judgments but who was perfect? "Excuse me? Come on, we’re all not gun-toting rednecks out here." Viggo’s natural flair for drama captured his tongue. "Then again if your lively dog ran down old Joe Parson’s driveway you might be feeling a little distressed right now."

When Viggo saw the true horror flood into those exquisite eyes he shook his head and decided he desired this walking orgasm even more. He rapidly qualified his last words. "Hey, kidding, just kidding. Old Joe wouldn’t hurt anything breathing; he’s a retired dentist who lives with his six cats."

Orlando frowned, quickly dismissed the less than flattering expression then, employing all ten fingers, he artfully raked back his sweat-soaked hair in what he hoped was a seductive manner. Suddenly his nose thought his rancid armpits smelled like pure lust. "Ha, ha, you got me there. Well, look, once again thanks for acting so gracious about the problem. Sidi’s usually a gem but for some reason that, if I may say, nasty and potent stench set him right off."

"Yeah, it’s extremely potent but it keeps the varmints away from the garden." Viggo paused then he beckoned toward his painted Victorian lady. Enough chit-chat. "If you’ll pardon me for saying this you look ready to pass out; it is exceptionally humid today. Can I interest you in fresh-squeezed lemonade served over ice in the air-conditioned kitchen? I just made it this morning." As he smiled Viggo gestured to the relaxing against Orlando’s shins Sidi. "And I bet your pal would appreciate water and a snack."

Gee, fresh lemonade? Was it served with newly-baked sugar cookies? What, had he entered the Martha Stewart zone? Orlando briefly wondered if anyone had ever offered him lemonade before, erm, well, maybe one of his nannies when he was a little brat? Fuck, the only thing this hot, hunky dude and any of his femme nannies had in common was membership in the human race.

Another news flash blazed into Orlando’s stuttering brain. Hey, how did this man know Orlando called Sidi his pal? That was so cool. As he soared back to reality Orlando realized both a panting Sidi and lusting Hottiekins stared at him in patient expectation although Sidi looked friendly, not hungry. Great, acting like a flake brain proved ever so sexy! Moron!

Recovering his natural, elegant poise Orlando held out his hand and created a "gee, aren’t I a silly ‘lil cutie" smile. "Damn, sorry, whoo, I’m so overheated my thoughts keep wandering. Forgive my rudeness. I’m Orlando Bloomfeld. And you are…?"

"Viggo Mortensen." Overheated? Viggo mentally groaned in horny agreement. Damp hands met, searched then fingers rested comfortably against each other. Since he needed to know the sexual score Viggo held on far longer than socially acceptable. When Orlando coyly relaxed his fingers in Viggo’s firm grip gratification flooded Viggo’s cock. Yes!

A smitten Orlando though he’d never been cruised so thoroughly by a firm handshake before. He twitched his fingers, mmm, just a slight twist and tickle, and felt Viggo’s manly grip tighten in mutual response. Oooh, suddenly this torturous day looked like a bona-fide Tiffany-designed, solid platinum medal winner!

Viggo’s sharp mind focused away from his stiffening cock trying to batter free and reexamined the sweaty beauty gently making love to his fingers. Bloomfeld? As in the world-class Bloomfeld hotel chain? No way but yeah, think about it, even the out of society’s loop Viggo had heard about the wild antics of the Bloomfeld clan. Ha, Viggo had sold quite a few large format color photos to Mr. Bloomfeld for both his corporate office and a few hotels. That was a highly profitable relationship. It appeared that Daddy B.’s sperm had created a work of art wandering about on two long, lean legs, yeah, a sweet, sweaty treasure that needed close personal appraising by Viggo’s cock.

All right, fine, standing before Viggo holding his hand was possibly one of the wildest, most decadent, self-indulgent assholes on the planet, yep, just the type Viggo vowed never to fall in with again. Oh well, so what, Viggo chucked that goofy resolution into the Clark Fork. Viggo didn’t know why but this perfect young beauty made him want to act like a wanton slut. The freedom felt so fine!

All right, Orlando decided this Viggo deserved a special blow-job and a few rolls in the hay. Once the men slowly released fingers Viggo turned toward the back of his house. "This way, gents."

Orlando and Sidi followed in Viggo’s bare footsteps. As he walked Orlando’s gaze dropped to Viggo’s dirty feet. All right, if he had the chance Orlando planned on introducing those cracked, callous-encrusted heels to a smoothing pumice stone. Hey, playing with a handsome man’s feet was fun.

Orlando’s wandering gaze glanced down at his recently-seduced hand. Fuck, it looked filthy! Grease streaks marred his smooth flesh but fuck it, the butch sight quivered his cock. Hey, accepting being a stinky, unfashionable wreck during a seduction and letting a greasy, grimy-footed hunk sully his pampered flesh certainly told Orlando he had changed! If this had happened to Orlando a year ago the preening queen would have suffered a fractured mental breakdown from the sinful shame of smelling so sordid.

Mmm, Orlando hoped his neatly tentpoling cock wasn’t too obvious. Hey, maybe his erection would yank the silk from his ass crack. Ooo, quick, since Mountain Hunk wasn’t raping him with his gaze Orlando snatched at his crack, adjusted himself and grinned down at the happy Sidi.

Sidi wagged his tail and grinned back. Something smelled fun here, yes, he could tell his furless friend wasn’t sad anymore. That was good!

Wow, this large old house was maintained with true love. Orlando’s searching gaze appreciated the fun color choices; the purple and red trim glowing against the teal reminded him of a Victorian brothel. Yes indeed, Viggo obviously was a man who knew his way around a toolbelt. That notion always turned Orlando on, yeah, he’d been fucked by a fair amount of plumbers, electricians, landscapers and pool-repair men and that was just during his first randy summer of insane sexual discovery. Only recently had Orlando finally shed the hated "Tunnel Boy" nickname. Damn that prick-head Ryan Vanderbilt and his so-called sharp wit!

They walked across the wrap-around porch, ahh, fuck, that rope hammock was designed to support a wild, swinging flash-fuck, then Orlando smiled at the suprisingly modern kitchen lurking behind the side porch door. The gleaming chrome, emerald and black surfaces looked like something right out of a designer open house. The black and glass-fronted industrial fridge and the shining six-burner gas stove top belonged in a restaurant kitchen. "Hey, not what I expected. This is impressive." And clean. What the fuck, the marvelous man was a walking pig-pen but he kept his kitchen spotless. The sight made Orlando’s heart beat faster. Hey, at least he could drink what was offered to him and not worry about getting dysentery.

"Since I enjoy cooking I appreciate my modern, creature comforts." As he spoke Viggo vigorously washed off his hands in the stainless steel sink. The photographer didn’t mind grungy flesh but serving drinks filthy-handed to a hopefully-soon-to-be-fucked guest broke some vague social limit. Next Viggo fetched the lemonade from the fridge, set the pitcher on the table, placed ice cubes in a bowl then he poured out two glasses full.

While Viggo played hunky host with the most Orlando freed Sidi from his elaborate leash and draped the sparkling length over the kitchen doorknob. He decided to wash his own hands. At feeling the cool water against his skin Orlando almost dunked his head under the invigorating flow but that act seemed rude even to him. Once Orlando turned back to the table the thirsty man thought lemonade never looked so perfect so he grabbed his glass, sank into a welcoming kitchen chair and began sipping. Mmmmahhh! As he soaked in the cool nectar Orlando kicked off his $500 jogging shoes. Off came the disgustingly wet socks. Mmm, toe freedom felt sublime!

Ooo, look, ice cubes! Orlando’s fingers plucked one free then he ran the divine coldness over his forehead and down his petite nose. His luxuriant eyelashes trembled in glory and slowly shut over his eyes. A serene smile crafted from outrageous bliss curved his sculpted lips. Only by sheer willpower did Orlando halt himself from tracing the cube over his erect nipples straining from the orange mesh. All right, if the sexy events moved along too slowly he’d resort to that tried and true trick.

Ouch! A staring in awe Viggo almost tripped over his own bare feet and face-planted into the emerald marble kitchen counter. Not clever. Christ, suddenly the mundane task of procuring a water bowl for Sidi turned dangerous. Just when he thought this creature acted beyond sexy Orlando cranked the delicious tension up a notch. Viggo’s painfully stiff cock wiggled in want. Yep, before this second he’d never felt envious of a simple ice cube. Ummm.

After tearing his salivating stare from Orlando’s physical relish Viggo filled a Corning ware bowl with cool spring water and set the bounty down for Sidi. The dog lunged forward and began lapping in loud, messy gulps.

Orlando paused in melting the ice cube over his cheeks and laughed at Sidi’s sloppy happiness. "Hey, pal, where are your manners?"

"Never deny a thirsty man his water, eh?" Or his ice cube. Viggo snapped his fingers. He rummaged in a lower cabinet and finally displayed a box of Beggin’ Strips. "Can your pal eat these? I watched a friend’s dog for a week and he left these silly things behind."

"Are you kidding? The mad pooch loves that fake bacon shit." As Orlando returned to sipping the tasty, exhilaratingly cold lemonade Viggo offered Sidi a strip and nearly lost a finger to his hungry pal. "Sidi! Crap, you are acting so bad today! I swear he’s possessed!"

Yeah, Sidi wasn’t the only one possessed. As he tried maintaining some civility Viggo cocked his head in curiosity. "That’s an interesting name. Does it mean something special?"

"Oh yes, it means friend and Sidi is a special friend to me. I found, or more like this big love lug found me, during one wild night in Marrakech and it was love at first sight. Over the past year I gotta say Sidi has been my one true friend. He doesn’t care what stupid shit I pull, nope, my furry pal still sticks by me. It’s a nice feeling." Orlando rubbed the remaining ice sliver over his neck and sighed. To his dismay his depression nudged against his sexy flirtation. No! Go away!

The empty sadness polluting Orlando’s light voice twanged at Viggo’s generous heart. Man, he’d gladly be this beauty’s friend, lover, devoted slave and ice cube wrangler. After a brief hesitation and nasty mental battle Viggo fetched a bottle of Bombay Sapphire Gin from what he termed his indulgence cabinet. "I hate to say it but this stuff is another creature comfort." He poured a light shot into his lemonade then he held the bottle toward Orlando and arched his brow. Viggo hated tempting Orlando but something in him just had to know this intriguing young man’s true colors.

Orlando stared at the wonderfully familiar blue bottle and anxiously licked his lips. He’d been off everything for a month now so… oh shit! But if Orlando violated his rehab strict, no-fucking-up-on-his-watch Dr. Bean would inform sourpuss Weaving and pissy Dad about the abuse then he’d lock Orlando up for fuck knew how long. But surely just an itty-bitty sip wouldn’t hurt? A drop? A damned savory whiff?

As Orlando’s damp right hand twitched forward Sidi suddenly trotted over, firmly planted his drink-damp muzzle on Orlando’s smelly thigh and frantically wagged his tail. Oh no, Sidi smelled the nasty stuff that sometimes made his friend act strange and, worse yet, made him smell wrong. Sidi’s rich brown eyes peered up at his friend with his best doggie reprimand then he released a low woof. Down, boy.

Viggo stared in complete surprise. That bright dog was something else! He liked Sidi’s protective style.

Yeah, fuck, sometimes Orlando thought the uncanny Sidi could read his mind. Orlando smiled down at his loyal pal then he stroked Sidi’s warm head. Summoning up an inner strength he didn’t know he owned Orlando shook his head and made his confession. "No thanks, Viggo. You see, I’m in rehab because I am a self-indulgent ass who can’t control himself and if I have a drink I’ll fuck everything up I’ve worked so hard toward." Wow, Orlando didn’t quite intend on saying so much but his words felt right. Yeah, fuck it, he had been working hard not to be a self-indulgent asshole. Time to accept it.

The soft admission wafting from those lovely lips pushed Viggo right over the romantic edge. After setting down the bottle Viggo rose, leaned down, pressed his lips to Orlando’s softness and kissed him hard. Orlando gasped in true surprise then he happily ran his fingers into Viggo’s shaggy hair and let his tongue slide forward in contented greeting. When they paused Viggo rasped out his query. "Tell me, Orlando, does that mean you’re not indulging in sex?"

"Fuck no! Come on, I’m in rehab, not the mental ward!" Orlando slithered up from his chair and flowed his long body into Viggo’s hungry embrace. He pressed so close his bare toes meshed between Viggo’s messy toes.

Sidi panted in relief and returned to his drinking. He knew when to butt out.

As the sweaty men kissed their wet, tight nipples rubbed in gleeful hello. Their seeking fingers lightly clawed across naked flesh. Suddenly Orlando’s ripped open orange mesh top flew across the room and landed smack on Sidi’s broad back.

Sidi looked up from a further slurp, smiled and glanced between the wonderfully-smelly two leggers performing the standing equivalent of his head butt. Yes indeed, he’d picked the right road to chase down. Always trust your nose.

The frantic embrace turned into a strange sexual waltz that staggered the men from the room. During their dance Viggo managed to keep Orlando in a tight, lip-locked embrace, OK, little to the left, around the corner, there, he successfully guided them to his accepting over-stuffed maroon velvet couch. It wasn’t Viggo’s intention to hit the couch back first but hell, did it matter? Not when his arms remained filled with squirming, sweaty boy flesh. God, this beauty made spicy-sharp sweat smell better than any fancy French perfume.

A panting in mad desire Orlando suddenly freed himself from Viggo’s arms, rose, shimmied from his wet shorts then he straddled Viggo, unzipped those filthy jeans and yanked them down muscled thighs to capable knees. Yes, Orlando adored a man who skipped his underwear, ufffh, he adored a man who offered him a thick, hard cock chunk full of power and might. Deploying his right hand’s edge Orlando sluiced sweat off his firm chest, rubbed the liquid on Viggo’s cock then he promptly slid his yearning ass into place. Hnnggghhh, ahh, so big, so forceful, so ass-splittingly wonderful! This was gonna be one helluva ride!

The startled Viggo began laughing in breathless delight. His fingers caressed over Orlando’s taut arms, he tickling the lean wrists as they supported the long fingers biting into his chest. Fuck, had he really been tinkering with his engine mere minutes ago? Hell, when the recluse woke this morning he hadn’t imagined wearing a sexy beauty on his cock before noon. Viggo decided his decorative fashion accessory suited him just dandy.

And folks thought Northern Idaho a sedate place. Pppfh, uuugh, someone tell that to the magnificent, mahogany-maned hellion riding Viggo’s willing cock like a demented fury from Hell’s wanton pits. Viggo grunted in pleasure and, instead of working hard, contented himself with the occasional firm upward thrust. Now his fingers swept up and down that slim, golden torso bobbing over him, his finger tips admiring how the sleek muscles flexed and flowed under the smooth skin. Too good, fuckin’ hell, mmmm…Viggo moaned in delight, thrust up and yelped as Orlando slammed down hard on him.

Orlando couldn’t believe he’d been seduced by a handshake and lemonade. Well, the dead sexy stare, mature Greek god torso and handsome face didn’t hurt the equation either. Fuuuuck, whee, this sport felt so much finer than silly old jogging! Now it was time for his custom move, oh yeah, Orlando slithered up then he wetly vibrated down Viggo’s cock like a car jack slowly coming down its ratchet. His ass muscles gripped, released, slid, gripped, released, slid…ahhh!

Holy Mammoth Dicktease! Viggo’s already wide-open eyes strained in force 11 rapture. He howled, battered his ragged heels against the velvet couch cushions and thought about if his will was up to date. This demanding beauty’s powerful style proved heart-stoppingly fan-fucking-tastic!

Once Orlando joyously clamped his way down Viggo’s thick pole his tense balls slapped into Viggo’s flesh. He offered Viggo’s cock one final, excruciatingly tight squeeze and felt Viggo give into his skills. Wow, what a massive geyser! For a frantic second the shuddering Orlando thought glistening boy cum might spurt from his own lips! Ooooh, Viggo’s searing blast conquered Orlando, yes, score, cum flood ahead! Once Orlando released all over Viggo’s wet flesh he dropped down and slithered his thick fluid between their heaving chests. Goooodaaahh damn, Orlando had discovered quintessential backwoods paradise. Who cared about the rotten onion stench?

Once Viggo’s convulsive lungs returned to normal he hugged Orlando’s limp body close and released hoarse laugher. "Let me guess; you went out for your jog and intended to return to Sean’s by lunch cause if you’re not there for the strict head count they’ll send out the storm troopers for you. Sean doesn’t appreciate wandering clients."

Orlando jerked back from relaxing against all that lovely man flesh and grinned in surprise. "So, my sexy sir, why do you know so much about stern Sean’s happy home for helpless headcases?"

Viggo winked in reply. "Weeelll now, I’ll confess two years ago I spent a few grueling weeks there cause my head was so fucked up from drugs. I was a high-living photographer making the scene in NYC until I crashed from a damaging coke habit. When I saw this area’s sedate pace and welcoming beauty I decided to say fuck it and here I am. And if I feel a little unsure Sean’s just up the road. He allows me my indulgence of an occasional shot of gin but even then I gotta record my sin in a diary." Viggo looked sheepish and decided not to add he deliberately tempted Orlando. Naw, that could wait until, well, never.

When his recovering brain cells clicked together Orlando stared at Viggo’s divine face in total shock. "Are you serious? Viggo Mortensen, Viggo… fuck, I have heard of you! I am such a Swiss-cheesed brained asswipe! You, yeah, you sold work to my Father! You’re major big time, dude!"

"Gee, thanks but no thanks. Being big time fucked me over hard and fast. Now I’m just an artist doing my thing." Viggo sighed then he licked Orlando’s nose. "How is Harry these days?"

"Ha, the old man’s as cranky and crabby as ever. He’s part of the reason I’m at Sean’s but now, mmm, suddenly I’m not so mad at him." Orlando tickled his tongue against Viggo’s then he lightly teased his nipples over Viggo’s accepting nubs. "Well, handsome, do you think you could call Sean and pretty please tell him I’m spending the afternoon at your place? Since you’re a successful graduate of his addict school I don’t think he’ll protest."

The trying not to burst in delight Viggo tried playing the scene cool. "Oh, are you spending the afternoon?"

"What do you think? I mean I promised myself I’d give you my custom blow job, trust me, you’ll become, ha, addicted to my tongue twist, and I wanna see how that hammock handles us. Plus I didn’t finish my lemonade." Orlando recaptured Viggo’s lips and pressed every last inch of bare skin tight as possible against Viggo’s hotness. Yeah, shit, perhaps Northern Idaho had its charms after all. "Hey, how bad are the winters up here in Hunky Man Ville?"

"Erm, yeah, I can get snowed in for days, maybe even a week solid." Oh shit, what did Orlando’s long fingernail just do to his zinging nipple? Wow!

"Ahh, I see. So while you wait for rescue there’s nothing to do except maybe this…" Orlando attacked Viggo’s lips once more then he clamped his ass muscles down on Viggo’s responding cock. Ahh, cute, clever, crafty, chefy, arty-farty and fast to erect, yeah, Orlando’s kind of man, oh, and Orlando also added he knew Viggo would keep him grounded and sane. There was something so, well, compellingly protective about this older man. Beside, if Viggo needed to spank Orlando for breaking any house rules well hell, his ass wouldn’t mind.

As he wrestled the giggling Orlando under him Viggo rotated his stiffening cock deep inside this lovely, lively beauty’s endless depths. "And this, oh yeah, definitely this keeps a body warm and busy." Hell, what was wrong with having an uber wealthy, drop-dead gorgeous, sexy young boy friend? Viggo’s lusting mind couldn’t offer any arguments.

The wondering what was going on Sidi peered into the living room and merrily wagged his tail. Well, since no one looked ready to offer him another snack he might as well help himself. Judging by his friend’s fresh, breathy cries Sidi deserved a reward so he slapped his big paws on the table, knocked the box down and began enjoying his tasty treats.

Yes, Sidi sensed this day would be fun!

FIN xoxoxoxo
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Sidi Knows Fox-Piss Equals Romance