Fruits And Nuts

Fruits And Nuts

Posted: October 2005
Title: Fruits and Nuts
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Type: RPS
Characters: David/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Timeline: present, or recent past...
Warnings: PWP, smut, shmoop, misuse of fruit aka food!porn, toys, kink; changing POV's.
Beta: none, all mistakes are mine
Summary: Dave visits Viggo in Idaho, and they creatively entertain themselves. See the warnings...! You might never look at a peach the same way again.

*****

Part 1

Viggo stood before the sink, meticulously washing various fruits and vegetables he'd bought from the farmer's market. Carrots, peas in their pods, apples, corn... and peaches. He didn't know they'd grow so far north, but there was one old farmer who'd nursed four or five trees along for half his life, and they produced. Viggo fingered them; the softness of the fuzzy skin, even wet, velvety under his various callous and more sensitive nerves. Musing, he didn't notice that he'd been staring off into a wall, holding the firm orb, till his friend and guest, Dave, entered the house, banging the screen door accidentally. Viggo jumped in surprise, looking from the peach to the Aussie and back. His hand full of downy succulence, his eyes full of wickedness, the front of his pants was suddenly full of a warm, slightly disconcerting throb.

Dave had consented to visit, yes, but in the five days he'd been there, they'd shared nothing more intimate than a hug or two. Ok, and Viggo had copped a couple feels, but Dave attributed that to his affectionate nature. No, Dave didn't put the moves on another's property, not even when he wasn't sure if the status still stood, but far be it to ask and make a fool of himself. What was that crazy Dane thinking, with a peach in one hand and that long-familiar coalescence that mean he was in heat in his eyes?

Starting at his feet, Dave felt a rising band of warmth move up his body at the pace of Viggo's deliberate taking-in of him. Abruptly, the thin-skinned fruit was brought to Viggo's mouth and he chomped into it. Skin split easily around blunt teeth. Juice dripped down from the side of Viggo's mouth as he chewed. "Mmmm... 'S good," he said enthusiastically, with his mouth full. "Want one?" Flicking his eyes away from Dave momentarily, he located another fruit and offered it on his slightly cupped palm. Dave shook his head. "No, thanks, not hungry."

"Oh, I think you're hungry."

Dave shook his head more emphatically. "No? Not even just a little peace?" Viggo bit deeply into the yellow meat, holding the chunk in his mouth, pinning it, and then taking it between his teeth with half protruding. He waggled his eyebrows and jerked his head in a manner that clearly said, "Come and get it."

Dave was undecided; he stood still and waffled over if this was just a bit of fruit, or if there was more expected of him. No, Viggo didn't do that. He did not invade one's space. He waited. It was almost like passing some kind of test, to be allowed into his space. So in light of that, Dave decided, it was nothing more than his weird cute side showing, one that Viggo was probably unwary of. He was taking entirely too long. With a self-conscious smile, Dave leaned in carefully and took the sweet wedge in his teeth.

Viggo let him take it without moving, and then took a bite for himself, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully. The Aussie was skittish...

Viggo bit off another larger bite. Dave watched the golden wedge poke out from between the Dane's teeth. The mere expression of Viggo's face compelled him forward, a distinctly "Come hither, if you dare."

Standing very still, he was almost, but not entirely, able to rein in the insouciant leer pulling at his cheeks. Viggo watched, and waited, for the short time it took the redhead to move forward for his next bite. Instead of drawing back, Viggo followed after the fruit as it was plucked from his mouth, pressing his lips against Dave's soft, plump warm ones.

The Aussie jerked in surprise, but said nothing, his mouth full now. He stood his ground, remembering to chew. Viggo was busy licking at his lips. Till he had ground the sweet peach-flesh into a pulp and swallowed it down, Dave pretended to be unmoved by the slick tongue caressing outside his mouth. Something had flashed in Viggo's eyes that let him know his host's interest was piqued, or more like unleashed. As soon as the food was safely down, Dave opened his mouth, meaning to speak, but was silenced by the invasion of unfurling tongue. Dave stiffened, in various ways. This wasn't Viggo being weird, or Viggo being cute, or just his usual, affectionate knows-no-bounds-when-he-doesn't-want-to self; on several occasions, Dave had seen that particular organ fully extended. He knew how long and pointed it was, and he could only imagine that Viggo knew how to use it. And he'd been right.

If he'd intended to turn him down, Viggo reasoned to himself, Dave might've taken one piece of fruit from him, or none, and backed away from any further advances. Approaching forty, the same age Viggo had been when they'd first met, or close enough, the redheaded man exuded a cool, quiet, carefully-guard sensuality. Unlike nearly all of the others, Viggo had never seen this man turn it on. So naturally, that was something that he wanted for himself, if just once, before he died. With that kiss, had been a taste. And Viggo's mouth ran away with him... "Mmm, you taste good, Dave... sweet and fresh, just a little tangy... but you know..." He set down the half-eaten peach and slid his hands under the tails of the light cotton shirt and placed his palms on David's sides, right above his hip bones. There, the skin was smooth and heated; David was slim enough that Viggo's fingertips were on the Aussie's back, while the heels of his hands were on the perimeter of his belly. Though hardly delicate, and a shade taller, Dave felt somehow waiflike to him. "More?" was the only question Viggo could think to ask. The air fairly shimmered in the moment. .

Utterly surprising him, Dave reached for his own shirt buttons, deftly undoing them one at a time. He let it fall backwards from his shoulders and then, he gingerly picked up the chewed-on half-sphere on the table and handed it to Viggo. "Yes," he said clearly. His eyes darkened like a summer evening sky.

The Dane stared at the golden fruit as if he'd never seen one before. After a stretched second, he took another bite. Dave watched the flesh being severed by blunt, happed teeth, and especially the thing he'd first noticed about Viggo besides his aversion to street clothes: his lips. It was not unknown to him how people talked of his, though he couldn't see why. Viggo's, he averred, were seriously underrated. Watching them curl back as he bit, and then dripping with peach juice, had done very naughty, very uninvited things to his libido. Why did the man have to tease him so? But maybe he wasn't. He'd put his hands on Dave's body, and asked, quietly, but unmistakably, for permission to do more. Permission! Dave would've scoffed, but on second thought, maybe the other man truly did not know he was welcome.

The wet, sticky, bitten-on fruit was applied to the center of his chest, breastbone level. Glancing at David's face momentarily, Viggo spread juice with the opened half to Dave's left, to his nipple. There, Viggo swiveled his wrist as if he were juicing for lemonade. Breathing shallowly, he drew the druid, a line of shiny, sweet liquid trailing along behind, diagonally down to David's navel. By now, Dave was fully erect and throbbing behind the fly of his jeans.

"What were you up to?" Dave asked warily before he was entirely ensnared in the intangible trip of Viggo's little ploy.

"I want you up on that table, now, without your clothes, so I can rub peach juice all over your... and then lick it off." Dave gasped out loudly, really loudly, at the brash statement. Even Viggo seemed a little shocked by his own boldness. It was a moment before he could meet the redhead's eyes again, during which he pitted the fruit and laid the round, brown, crumpled-looking seed to the side. "I might even want you to have your way with me, after." A wave of pheromones hit Dave's nostrils in an unsettling taunt.

He had every intent, even then, of laughing it off, or backing down from the dare, as it were. But Dave suddenly couldn't. He was hypnotized by the man's magnetic, though ever-benign stare, by the faint musk in the air, by the promise of that body, Viggo's body under his clothes. Silly as it was, and Dave knew it was something of their own urban legend, it was said that sex with Viggo was something akin to one's first sexual awakening... but no one ever remembered quite why. So yes, ruefully, David admitted to himself that sense had lost a round to his little head.

He'd only had to nod once, curtly, and...Viggo was right there with hands and lips and eyes all over him. It felt like being in the vortex of a whirlwind, at first. Light kisses that he couldn't quite follow landed all over his face. His lips were nipped, his earlobes sucked, a careful bite even to the bridge of his nose. Viggo didn't stand still. He was in front, tilting his head back earnestly to bridge the two inches that separated them, in back to splay his fingers over Dave's ass, back around to three-quarter side to pluck at belt buckle, button and zip. The level of the redhead's arousal played tricks with his sight and hearing. His impressions of the other man were in acid tripped-seeming fits and starts. Viggo was too close, impinging on his space... No, too far away, why was he at arm's length when Dave so needed that hard, wiry body molded to his? Bits of Viggo flashed in his mind like a rapid-fire slide show...

He suddenly understood that he was standing bare-ass naked at mid-day in the middle of the kitchen, windows and doors wide open... It just made him harder. God, he was, wasn't he? He looked down, catching sight of Viggo's wrist, strong with its short, dark hairs, then the whole forearm, a work of erotic art. He took a breath, let it out... Really had to control his actions, because whatever the plans in the other man's head, he was //this// close to saying 'fuck it' and bending him over the counter.

It didn't take much to make him naked; once the man dropped his fences, it was all too delightful to cover the tall, slim, freckled body in touches and kisses as he bared it little by little. Dave stood still for him, somehow distant, lost in a reverie. Viggo wondered what he could be thinking. He too was breathless with anticipation for this, whatever "this" would be. In the bright sunlight, Dave stood in glory and obvious desire; like any blue-eyed person he seemed so innocent, even in the face of what they were about to engage in. Whatever that was. Usually Viggo could accurately estimate a person's tastes and level of experience just by being around them for a few hours. Not so this one, and was all the more aroused by that 'unknown.'

Two pairs of blue-grey eyes met, and Dave felt compelled to do as Viggo had expressed. He'd play along for now... see what kinds of freaky play a person like Viggo might think necessary to a satisfying sex play. The idea of that tongue on his was making his whole lower body throb. His cock quivered in the air as he backed over to the wooden kitchen table and levered himself up. He hoped he'd guessed right by taking Viggo literally.

Apparently so. The Dane had another of the fuzzy fruits in his hand, a knife in the other. Quickly and efficiently, he halved it and pitted it, then he as at Dave's side, laying him back o the smooth flat surface and then applying the cut sides of the peach halves to his stomach, one on each side of his navel.

David sucked in his belly and giggled, "You're not gonna be able to eat that, now. I shed really badly."

Viggo checked the flat edge of the fruit's flesh. Sure enough. "Then I'd say we lost it for a good cause," he responded. "But I'll have to think of some creative ways to not be any more wasteful with this." He hopped up on the sturdy table too and straddled Dave's thighs. The redhead laid passively, arms straight out to the sides, hands dangling off the edge of the table. Quickly, while Dave held utterly still, Viggo applied sticky nectar in wide swatches all over the front of the ginger-haired, freckled torso. The long body, lying supine on the table, began a lazy gyration. A throaty purr vibrated within his chest.

Getting down and dropping his clothes, Viggo again approached the butcher block table where Dave lay, his long body hiding nothing of his excitement. "You're such a peach, David," the Dane purred with a cheesy grin. "Sorry. Couldn't resist." Bending, the pink, pointed tongue was applied the Aussie's chest and belly, slurping up the trails of organic fluids from the soft skin. Underneath his ministrations, the rising and lowering of Dave's ribs and stomach quickened; gooseflesh rose in his wake. When the wet organ slid in a slow circle around the little cup of a navel and then in, David gasped so loudly, the other man pulled his head up in alarm.

Once again, the two sets of blue eyes took measure. They were both slender but well-built men, long-legged in terms of a man's typically longer torso. Each had a soft pelt of chest and belly hair, with tiny, and as Dave noticed, erect nipples. Viggo had a way of standing, of holding himself while he knew that he was being visually perused, that reminded the Aussie of the stillness and control that was Viggo on most days.

Surprisingly, the other man was circumcised. He just didn't seem the type, but David recalled Viggo had been born in America, in the Fifties, and obviously he'd had no say in the matter. It wasn't so different, but Dave couldn't help himself from staring; his eyes were riveted. He'd never been with anyone before who was not uncut. This rod jutted in an upswinging curve; the broad, rounded head showing very clearly the ridge, fissure, and inverted heart-shape underneath was simply pornographic, as if his cock was naked and then, even more naked. The swollen cavernosa pulse with blood; Dave could have sworn he could see through the purpled skin, as every surge, twitch, and heartbeat was clearly defined. Below, the man's balls were drawn up tight, belying his level of arousal.

So, another similarity, Dave though. Two were playing at the 'casual' game.

A moment later, Viggo had vaulted up and sat himself down on David again, like before. He wiggled around to get comfortable. Once again, he had a peach and a knife in hand. The redhead watched Viggo working on the succulent fruit. Hard thighs snugged around his hips. Their sacs touched, so that if either of them moved much, the extremely sensitive testicles pressing together just enough to cause a mild shock, just this side of discomfort. Light sweat broke out on David's forehead and chest.

Viggo was meticulously cutting a hole through the center of the peach. He let its juice bleed all over David's front, till it filled his navel and all the hairs on his belly were sticky and matted. It made him blush to think what that reminded him of. Then Viggo held a significantly lighter, de-pitted fruit up to his eye and winked at David through it. Lowering the short spherical-cylindrical item he'd carved, Viggo put one of the openings to the tip of David's erection.

"No!" David gasped, understanding what Viggo meant to do.

"Yes!" Viggo aped him, with the other extreme.

It turned out the hole was not wide enough, not quite. Undaunted, the Dane nibbled around each round peach-orifice. This time, he took Dave's overwrought cock in his hand and slowly stroked him, dribbling more of the sweet fluid and his own saliva onto his fingers. From below, David, his restraint unraveling, met him pull for pull till stickiness won out over slickness. His thighs spread and trembled, his lower half being held down by Viggo's weight. Once again, the fuzzy fruit was fitted over the head of David's needy cock; it allowed him two inches of access, and then, he once again was thwarted.

The Aussie's bedazzling azure eyes opened wide. He couldn't believe what that crazy son of a bitch was doing to him, and that he was allowing... and liking it!

"Come on, David," Viggo whispered raspily. "I wanna see you fuck..." When there was a noise of protestation, he continued. "Go on, boy...Break its cherry." He moved the wet, cut inside meat up and down as far as David's girth would allow.

Later David would say that this was the point of no return. His body reacted powerfully. Snarling, he bucked upwards to stab through any remaining resistance. Meanwhile, Viggo pushed down on the outside of the peach till David had fully impaled it.

"You filthy bastard," David wheezed semi-incoherently. He thrashed around, thrusting into Viggo's hand and the gutted fruit. Somewhere along the line, he could feel it give and break, splitting, but the Dane kept it there with his fist around the outside, watching the weeping head of the surrounded cock advancing and retreating. David's arms were thrown out to his sides as if he were trying to balance, his hands at loose ends. Eventually his fingers found the edges of the table and held on.

Next time Viggo looked down, it was just in time to see the spurting cream blast David's slit, jet after jet as the bottom man continued to thrust throughout his orgasm. Then nearing the end, the Aussie's body went entirely limp and his head lolled to the side, his hands relaxing their death grip.

"So...." Viggo smirked. "David cream pie."

When David could breathe again, he said. "You're insane!" it was going to be a while before he'd be able to meet Viggo's eyes for more than a second, much less without blushing.

The darker man had not moved. He still straddled Dave's upper thighs, and stared down curiously into his, amused. "Welcome to my world," he intoned.

"What were you going to try next?" David wonder, testing his extremities to find that yes, he could still move them. "Were you planning to stick it up my arse?"

At this, Viggo snorted rudely. Following his gaze, David saw why. The pulpy remains lay in the roughened palm, mashed and in pieces, dotted with some suspiciously opaline drizzling. "Urgh," said David.

"Quite," replied Viggo. He gave a little wiggle like a dog who had decided to shake itself, and then changed its mind. "Anyway... I kinda had it in mind that you might want to be putting something up my ass, but I guess I kinda ruined it..." Dave's cock twitched, and actually moved an inch or two at that. Noticing, Viggo grinned, which deepened the cuts of the lines around his eyes and bracketing his mouth. "Well... maybe not!"

"Get off me," David ordered. "You're going to have that paid back in full."

Part 2

"Is that right? Should I be worried?" drawled the still rock-hard artist. He was moving very slowly indeed. What he was moving, to be exact, was his pelvis in a sinuous grind. It would have put a boner on a catatonic straight man.

It was certainly working on David. He couldn't lie still any longer. Sitting up suddenly, he snaked his arms around Viggo's waist to clutch those muscular butt cheeks in his hands. "Fuck it!" David muttered, tightly squeezing the supple flesh in his long fingers. He nuzzled the auburn hairs on Viggo's chest, searching for one of the beaded... "OW!" he blurted. "Son of a fucking...!" His whole body jerked in surprised pleasure-pain. 'Smug bastard," David thought, looking up at the smirk stretching Viggo's mouth wide.

"Nice nips." That bicoastal-American voice practically oozed amusement over the Aussie's jump and yell. Viggo was unrepentant over his arousal now. The musk of his sexuality clotted Dave's breathing. And most definitely, a small freshet of precum was leaking onto Dave's belly to mingle with the congealed peach juice.

Once the redhead's full lips found their target, the tongue within a sucking mouth flicking hard at the pink nub, Viggo released his pincer-like grip on the dusky, abused nipples. The returning blood flow stung, little needling prickles, which was actually a whole another level of turn-on. Moaning at the new feeling, David hung on like a baby. He paused only long enough to repeat his suckling on the other tit.

"What'll you do to me...?" Viggo pressed.

"I have some ideas," Dave said with a groan. His near-erect cock, still extra-sensitized from recent activities, rubbed up against the stiff organ prodding his stomach. "Move!" he repeated. He had to more or less wrestle the other man off of him. No doubt this was what Viggo wanted—that he grapple and grab at the uncooperative body. In doing so, he was inadvertently treated to handfuls of ass and biceps and shoulders, and various little skin-kisses against practically every part of him. At last he slid to the floor, taking a moment to steady himself. Fuck, he was a sticky mess!

"How do you want me?" came the Dane's soft, edgy voice.

There'd been no time to consider the finer details. Dave knew he wanted him, yes, and was going to have him, too, but how? "Hands and knees," he heard himself say. Then he noticed the ruined remains of 'his' peach still in Viggo's folded palm. "Gimme that!" he blurted, embarrassed, red patches burning his cheekbones. He scooped it roughly into his own hand, walked to the sink, and sent it down the disposal.

"Rest in peace," was the remark heard from the region of the table. Whirling, Dave was confronted with the image of Viggo on all fours on the table, a gleeful leer gracing his face. The man arched his back and waggled his ass, then quirked his eyebrows, maybe his whole face.

"Uh..." Dave ogled freely for a moment till he remembered his main order of business. His erection was starting to become painful... what the fuck must Viggo be going through? "I wanted to wash... where are the towels and things?"

"Bottom drawer on your left."

Forgetting himself for a moment, David bent over and rummaged in the drawer, pulling out a supply of wash cloths and towels, an act that earned him a low wolf whistle. His whole face was flushed now, he could feel it. Annoyed at his own gullibility, he ran warm water from the sink over the cloths, wrung them out, and turned around.

"Thought you might want to watch this," he said letting an alluring tone deepen his voice. Sweeping the warm rag over his front, he scrubbed off fruit juice, sweat, and cum. First his chest, following the nap of the hair, then each side of his belly, and then, though it was hopeless, the wiry nest of his pubes. He didn't exactly dawdle, but paid especially close attention to his large, sticky balls, and made a deliberate show of washing his dick. It was too hard now to have much play of the foreskin, but he still moved it silkily back on the shaft, then up to cuff the head. Viggo might not have one, but he, David, did, and it just plain felt good.

Throughout, Viggo's expression remained carefully interested but aloof, as if utterly filthy things were going on in his brain that he'd rather not share. But his nostrils flared, his pupils did an odd little dilate-contract dance, and his neglected erection dripped one shimmery teardrop after another onto the planks of the tabletop between his knees. Various parts of his body gave random flexes, most of it concentrated in his arms and shoulders. It was easy to lose oneself appreciating the canvas of human flesh, so compactly sturdy, with beautifully formed biceps and forms, legs to put a model to shame, knowing hands, a torso that managed to be both broad and narrow at the same time. Oh fuck if he wasn't drooling, as was his cock.

The inspection was acknowledged with a frank, "Stop standing there, looking all innocent and playing with yourself, or I'm going to have to come over there and molest you where you stand." Viggo meant it. The redheaded man was so fucking gorgeous, in his opinion... Soft skinned, stronger than he looked, a mouth that put any Botticelli to shame, and just the incongruity of the wide, guileless baby-pure blue eyes, contrasting with the sureness of his hands on Viggo only minutes ago...

For the longest time, Viggo had thought the other man to be totally straight. Only recently had he become... curious, desperate, available...? ...enough to even think of trying his hand. Old-fashioned as it might sound, inviting David out here to the middle of nowhere had been the right thing to do. Viggo had had time to sound him out, to get near him, to see if he'd react negatively to his little touches and glances. It amazed him, in a way, that they'd never so much as kissed before today, and here they were, doing things that long-time lovers maybe never even thought of. This man was just so right...

Dave was approaching him now, gaze cast aside, and more wet towels in his hands. A smile curved those sex-swollen lips. Warm, moist, nubby terrycloth brushed lightly, then more meaningfully all around his rigid organ. The free hand not occupied with washing ran up and down from the backs of bunched calves, over tight buttocks and tense back. When Viggo began to try to thrust into his hand, Dave evaded and moved lower to carefully clean his balls. The glands inside were taut, solid masses. Dave made another production of washing into the myriad little wrinkles with the nap of the terrycloth. It more than pleased him to see how Viggo had closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and thrust his lower jaw forward to maintain control. Involuntarily, it seemed, he'd pulled his knees wide apart and arched his back, and he was trembling.

"Damn you...! Do something!" the older man demanded.

But this kind of temporary power was rather enthralling, David decided. He was in no real hurry. Grabbing a peach from the bowl and the knife, he let the cloth fall to the table and levered himself up behind the kneeling form. "I should wash this, too," he said, and directed a gust of air between Viggo's cheeks. Quickly, he cut the peach in half, leaving it still clinging to the pit, then again, in the opposite direction. Then he halved each section.

Viggo mouthed off, "Oh, you finally think you might touch me, then?"

"I did touch you." And he would again. God, the view...

"But then you stopped..." the Dane was almost whining.

"Oh, yeah. Don't you know it's better if you wait?"

Viggo chuckled evilly. "But only so long."

"Absolutely." Just for good measure, Dave cut each of the eighths in half, too. Then he dislodged each section, one at a time, and laid them in a line from Viggo's neck past the tensed shoulder blades, over the vertebrae... all the way down. There were three sections left. The first, he wedged into the top of the slightly spread crack. The next, he actually ate while he considered its best use. The last, he used to paint circles of shiny fluid onto Viggo's ass, while he purred, "I think you might taste pretty good, peach-flavored."

Viggo bleated, a sound that cut off as abruptly as it began.

Taking the wedge in his teeth, David bent down and pushed the point of it against the dusty closed hole, which fluttered at him. Snorting, the redhead withdrew it and traced a line all the way up the extent of the crease. Then he prodded at the opening again till it softened enough to admit a bit of the fruit. He pulled back, and tried again, barely able to believe he was getting away with it. But no, Viggo pushed back and encouraged more. Soon, he had to stop. The sweet, fleshy meat could only take so much pressure, and there was plenty inside that tight little ring.

Dave's body was hardly immune to this display. Between his own legs, his cock was pounding in the same jittery rhythm as his heartbeat, eager to slide into the small, furled aperture. But first...

Spitting the piece of fruit aside, David stuck out his tongue and followed his juice-coated path of a moment ago. Licking sloppily from tailbone to scrotum, he tasted peachy-musky Viggo. Squirms and tiny moans showed he was not the only one excited by it. Soon he'd licked away most of the sweetness, so he took another wedge and repeated what he'd done before, start to finish, only this time, he was able to get the cut point of the fruit in a little further, and he followed it with the tip of his tongue.

The taste exploded in his mouth. He'd meant to tease Viggo with at least two or three more peach wedges, but he just couldn't. Now he was addicted. What the fuck? 'Addicted to licking another bloke's arse?' David asked himself somewhere in the back of his mind where he could easily ignore it. Damn right he was. He probed further in, tasting, inhaling, eventually filching another wedge off the accent of Viggo's backbone to help him along, till his tongue had reached it's very most extended. He was slurping, drooling, and his partner had nearly lost it, too, when his tongue somehow found the spongy organ inside and prodded at it relentlessly.

As it was, he could have eaten Viggo's ass out all night but the other man said something urgently that interrupted his sticky reverie. "You either fuck me now or I'm gonna do you..." That voice was raw, a desperate man who would irrefutably do what he stated. Viggo's thighs quivered, so far apart his cock was down on abandoned rag from earlier, stealthily plying friction from it.

That was all it took. David reared up and lined up his cock. Distracted by a tap on the side of his leg, he looked down to see Viggo's arm extended backwards with a tiny bottle of lube in his hand. Accepting it, Dave oiled himself quickly. It seemed like every nerve ending in his over-hard shaft was screaming for penetration. If he was in such a state, having cum once already, how could Viggo stand all this teasing without having blown a nut or even two? Just as hurriedly, but attentive to do it right, Dave did the necessary preparations. One finger, two, scissor, curl, three... all the while intensely aware of that hot grip on his digits. Viggo was making complicated little movements with his hips, and moaning from low in his chest. The pressure between his legs was too much; David removed his fingers and plunged in. The tight socket surrounded him and clenched.

"Uuuh..." Viggo gurgled. "Gimme a minute," he grunted. It was so difficult not to move and fuck the hell out of the delightfully resistant body at once. Through blurred, reddened vision, David waited for any signal. He curled his fingers around study hipbones and panted shallowly.

"You ready?" David requested after a few moments. He was still being squeezed around very tightly. Ripples chased themselves up and down Viggo's back. One or two the peach pieces slid from his spine to land squelchily on the table. Slowly, by sheer force of will, Dave loosed his grip from Viggo's haunches. Be damned if he was going have the man under him, this man, and not touch him to his heart's content. David caught a pale glimpse of them reflected in the picture window across the room. There he was, just as wide-eyed as Viggo had said, kneeling impatiently behind the other man on the hard surface of the kitchen table, for heaven's sakes!

The longish, shaggy color-that-defied-description hair on Viggo's head hung down, so that his face was hidden. He was still struggling to take David in comfortably, or maybe that was just not going to fly. The redhead knew that both men and women found him more than adequate. A thought struck him. "How long, Viggo?"

"What? Why?" the Dane grunted, his ribs heaving.

Dave gently, with slightly diffident fingers, worked a light massaging path up that lean back, pausing only to straighten the line of skin-temperature fruit. He leaned down and picked one up in his teeth, chewed and swallowed, licked the place where it had been. "Do I get an answer?"

After another silence, Viggo admitted quietly, "Since New Zealand... well, that I did it this way..."

Oh fuck. I had been that long for him, too. What the hell was going on here? "Why?" he asked, not sure exactly 'why what.' Instead of an answer, he got Viggo's butt rubbing against his groin, pushing back against him so hard that their balls pressed together front to back, between the darker man's spread thighs.

"Always wondered what you'd be like," Viggo panted.

The time where he could wait any longer was over; the redhead, watching them again from the corner of his eye, pulled back. The glistening length of him showed in the air between their bodies, joining them. Without any further thought, he pushed it in again, all the way in, till their sacs smacked wetly and clung like their kisses had earlier. Then David heard, "Thought I could trust you to... fuck...! be versatile..." He let out a low groan as David successfully tipped his arse into a slightly more upturned position.

"Oh, I can do that," the redhead stated matter-of-factly. What he could do right now was follow his pent-up urges and piston his cock in and out, aiming for the inner sweet spot with every thrust, to drive Viggo past any rational thought. "I'm gonna fuck you till you cum, and then I'm gonna keep fucking you still you can't see straight...wanna hear you scream when you cum..." Dave heard the filthy babble spewing from his mouth; it was rare he felt safe talking like that. The table squeaked ominously, but they ignored it. The artist's round-nailed fingers scrabbled toward the edges and hung on.

Contrary to Dave's concerns, Viggo seemed to have accepted him inside his body now; he was responsive, and then some. The imagery burned his brain; it made him almost rapturously high. Every push forward was met now with the filled ass moving against him. "It feels so good, luv..." Dave trailed off. It felt a hundred times better than that, but words just could not express the exquisite pressure of the lubed tunnel clasping him in its tight grip, almost like a strong hand, but so much better.

Strings of profanity flowed from both of them, English and Spanish and what Dave imagined must be Danish, much of it growled or gasped in appreciation of the act. Wanting more contact, David lowered his torso so he was flush against Viggo's back; the few remaining peach wedges squashed between them.

"What are we... doin' now?" Viggo asked between thrusts. "Making jelly?"

"You mean 'jam?'"

"Right... jam me some more!"

"Like this?" Dave slammed into him with all his strength. It was so fucking good to have someone under him who could take everything he had, and more.

Now that he'd adjusted, Viggo was writhing in time to the Aussie's pace. "Oh fuck, Daisy," he gritted, using the nickname from the old days. "You slay me... so fucking hot, David... please... wanna cum..."

There, he'd said it: He was asking, pleading even. It was the farthest thing from 'taking pity' when Dave reached under them both. The heavy cock he found there was hard beyond hard, wet with leaking precum at the tip. Wanting to do this for him so badly, the redhead even said, "Cum for me, Viggo... let me feel you cum." It was true. He craved feeling that hot blast of cream in his palm, the rhythmic contractions around his penis. He couldn't help himself—he found that he was kissing, licking, biting the cords and muscles in he back of Viggo's neck and his shoulders. Thank god he himself had cum once already, or there was no way he'd have been able to hold back.

Filling his lover's hand with his essence, Viggo's body went rigid and he moaned, long and loud, arching his back to extract more pleasure from the head of Dave's cock. "Oh my god..." the Aussie breathed over and over again. He made himself slow and still as Viggo's orgasm ebbed. He knew better than to over stimulate a just-peaked prostate, or to try to stroke the softening cock.

Viggo had dropped his head down; his sides dragged deep breaths of air into his lungs. He grabbed Dave's semen-covered hand and licked the seed from it. "Mmm..." he sniggered. "Peaches and cream."

"That is just so bad!" David chided him, only half-heartedly.

"Awww... I thought it was pretty good." He turned his head to the side and looked at the very aroused Australian. "Better than good. You can fuck me s'more if you want. Fuck me hard again." He grinned sloppily, while Dave interpreted the phraseology. He'd told Dave that his sex would make him ready again, if he kept at it. Just as Dave hoped.

The redhead began to move, but much slower than minutes before. Once more, he looked at himself in the window for a little while, grinding into six feet of post-orgasmic Viggo. He felt like he was not only waiting for, but preserving himself, saving his load for... he didn't know quite what. Their aggressive last round had made another mess of the fruit he'd set on Viggo's backbone. Bits of it clung to him, too. Silent now, eyes closed as if meditating, the Dane moved sensually along with him. The stickiness was starting to bother Dave, to distract him, and he thought about how to continue this but still get clean without either blueballs or messing up the scenario. Burying himself deep, he said, in his most convincing voice, "Can we shower, maybe?"

"Best idea you've had all day... not really!" Viggo teased. "If you think you can get off me, it's all yours."

Dave removed himself quickly, just for the pleasure of seeing the well-used hole open enough to show the secret interior for a moment. "You, too, then," Dave insisted.

"Of course." The two men scrambled off the table, helping each other down. "I feel like a little old lady," Viggo giggled.

"No, you don't," David smirked.

"How would you know?" he was asked.

"Ew!"

"You said that earlier, too," Viggo noted. "You must find me rather repulsive."

Pointedly, David looked down at his own erection, red and straining. "Not really."

"Then let's get you your shower and finish what we started."

As the water flowed over them, the two men came together again under its warmth. At first they grinned over the disaster they'd made of themselves, then at the satisfaction of touching face to face again. Viggo hardened rapidly when Dave went to his knees and reverently explored his re-awakening organ. Applying every trick he'd ever known, the Aussie was just as turned on by his response as he'd been by being behind him, inside him. As the minutes ticked by and Dave twisted his tongue the way and that across the smooth head, he knew without a doubt what he wanted. Would Viggo...?

Before he could think how to ask, a ridiculous thought perhaps considering this was a virile, vital, very masculine man with him, the issue was settled. "You're dangerous, y'know," slurred the nasally voice from far overhead. "If you keep that up, I'm liable to either fall over or cum." That was not in the plan yet. David took the furred sac in his hand once more. He caressed lightly for a second just so Viggo would know he was there, and then, exquisitely careful not to tip the line into pain with this two-in-one part, he tightened his grip, just like little, and circled with the pad of his thumb. Above him, Viggo keened and stiffened. His hand touched the reddish stubble of Dave's cheeks, then his perfect lips wrapped around the thick organ. At the very last second possible, the Dane yanked his hips back; panting hard, he backed away, saying, "Want you in my bed, David... oh god..."

Together, they stepped out from behind the curtain, grabbed towels, worked hurriedly to dry each other cursorily. When they entered, Viggo's bedroom, David found himself steered peremptorily toward a chest of drawers on the wrong side of the room, if one were to count the bed as the 'right' side. "What...?" But Viggo immediately opened a draw about chest-height, and Dave found himself truly speechless. As if all available brain cells and circulation was not already directed elsewhere, this made it worse.

"Pick something," Viggo whispered in his ear from behind. The still-damp hair on his front tickled David's warmed skin. The Dane had grabbed his arse very firmly, kneading adamantly. "Hurry... Fucking hell, David... you've got such a beautiful ass!"

David had to laugh at the absurdity of such a compliment. He stared down into the drawerful of Viggo's toys, completely unable to make a choice. It would have been fine, except that right now he craved sex, just sex, just Viggo inside him, taking him, making him feel things he hadn't allowed himself for years. Well... He didn't like whips; he didn't want a dildo, for either of them—he wanted the real thing. Handcuffs? No. He needed his hands on the other man. Clamps? Too futzy. That left...

"Anal beads, David...?" Viggo drawled, kissing the back of the redhead's neck. David had to grab the top of the dresser; he was swaying on his feet. "Who might they be for?"

"You," the Aussie blurted, "because I want you inside me this time."

Chuckling, Viggo said, sing-song, "Ah, so he knows what he wants." Then point blank: "Make sure you grab the big bottle of lube." David looked again, and did it, and pushed the drawer shut. Viggo had backed away and was on the way to the bed by the time the other man got himself turned around. A second later, was up on all fours about, his drool-worthy backside pointed at David. "Have you ever done this before... beads?" David shook his head slowly and concentrated on not salivating all over himself. He could see Viggo's dangling balls between his legs, and his hard cock hanging down below his belly; he was going to get all that and more, if he could just...

Clacking beads in hand, David sat on the bed, legs over the edge, but soon swiveled to sit cross-legged, almost directly behind... Fuck! That little hole, a bit stretched though it was from his earlier treatment, was so goddamn inviting. It was a wonder Viggo ever got to top, if one got a look at that. He lifted the string of beads nervously, finding the end. He picked up the bottle of lube and reapplied it generously to Viggo's asshole. He took a deep breath... "Dammit! What... how...? What do I do?"

Matter-of-factly, Viggo looked over his shoulder at him and said, "You shove the first bead in my ass, then another, then another. Once they're in, we fuck. And then you start pulling them out..."

David's face burned brightly at this forthright description, but in his lap, his cock was throbbing harder than ever. It lunged on its own, releasing a drop or two of fluid. He barely trusted himself to do it right, but he also was sure Viggo would stop him if he didn't. He got one of the inch-diameter beads to the slightly puckered, slick opening and pushed it in. It went easily, and vanished into the swallowing passage. So he continued, mindful of Viggo wiggling and squirming as each round bead widened his hole temporarily, and disappeared.

The moans sounded like the good kind. After half a dozen of the small globes, he had to apply more lube. He wondered where Viggo found it—it was the slipperiest consistency he'd ever encountered. Would it be used on him next? He hoped so. After three more of the beads were threaded into the quickly filling passage, he looked at the Dane's face for direction, and he noticed how the blue eyes were colorless. Viggo was snarling. Alarmed, David asked, "Am I hurting you... shit!"

"No. Not yet. But it should a little, you know, to get the benefit of relief later." David heard a loud gasp escape from his own mouth. He didn't know if he could do it. "It's no different than getting fucked by someone with a really large cock," Viggo smirked at him. "Surely you could do that, now?"

"But..." Yes, the ass did its familiar little wiggle again. "Um..."

"How many more?" Viggo asked.

"Three."

"Look, I can take it; don't get squeamish on me now, Daisy. Just do it." With that, he swung his head around to face the front again, and waited expectantly.

David tried to calm himself. The next bead went in without too much difficulty. The next... well, it didn't want to go. David had to push, and Viggo's face turned red, which he didn't like the look of; it gave him all kinds of panicky butterflies in his stomach. Tentatively, he asked, "Uh... is there some way to make more room? You know... inside?"

Viggo considered. Sweat was springing up on the sides of his spine, and most definitely between his legs. They'd been water-pure not long ago, but now the musk of his rut-scent mixed with nervous sweat drifted into the air. As he'd done before out of sexual heat, he did now for the purpose Dave described—arched his back sharply, and then pushed it up again. Having mentally delineated a difference in purpose, the Aussie looked Viggo over and had to admit that whatever discomfort the man was feeling, it was not turning him off. Indeed, there were traces of silvery fluid that matched Dave's offering smeared over his cockhead again...

"One more," Viggo huffed unnecessarily. "Come on... I can't fuck you with this hanging out of my ass!"

So David carefully oiled that last ball and, god help him, stuffed it in. "Now what...?" He started to say. His jaw clicked together, his teeth narrowly missing his tongue, as he was grabbed and pulled upwards on the bed and straddled. Viggo lowered his body and ground their leaking cocks together fiercely. His mouth was heatedly kissed, a searing, wriggling, twisting probe charting the inside of it. It felt so fucking good to have the man's hard body on top of him, holding him down, making him squirm. With a look of almost scary intensity, Viggo reached between them to wrap his hand around Dave's hurting arousal. His eyes closed tightly while he struggled not to come immediately. But Viggo read his mind.

"Gonna fuck you now... want you so bad... Spread your legs, Davie." Viggo demanded it in raspy whispers, and then he assisted by moving his own arms and legs to get the redhead's long limbs to the outside of his. "How much prep do you need?"

To anyone else he'd have been embarrassed, but David could admit, "Probably a lot," to this man without having to worry about complaints or if it would be done shoddily. Snagging the bottle of lube, Viggo applied it to his fingers, warmed a good little pool of it in his palm, all this while still flush on the body below, his arms held out overhead. After a minute, his hand snaked back down to where it had been before; Dave felt gentle but insistent fingers, slick with lube, touch between his cheeks.

"You've got the sexist bum," Viggo told him again. "Can't wait to be in you." A finger slipped in slightly, then out, and in further, and Dave struggled to relax. Rolling to the side, Viggo paid absolute attention to the preparations, each time waiting till Dave pushed back at him to add a new digit or movement. "You're ready," he said with certainty, three fingers in, curled against the Aussie's sweet spot. There was no denying it. It took him only a second to smear the rest of the gel in his hand onto his erection, coating it well.

"Yes..." hissed David. He made to turn over, and was stopped. "But... What're you doing?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" There was a smirk in that voice, for all that it was dead serious. "I was going to fuck you. Here... My cock, your ass. Are you not a willing participant?" The way Viggo said it, it sounded like something more exotic than just sex. More interesting than love. Certainly more sensual than cerebral stimuli. Moreover, it would be a humongous loss if he were turned down, but that was Dave's perception. Such was the nature of the man.

"Shouldn't I be...?" Once more the confused redhead tried to flip to his stomach. He was so lost in the sensation of the heated skin brushing lightly, while still forcibly restraining him, bodily, that he almost sidetracked himself on his own.

Viggo took Dave's chin in his unoiled hand and looked into his face. The light blue-grey eyes jumped back and forth as he studied whatever the other man was hiding. His voice transformed uncannily from kinky, horny bastard with a butt full of love beads, to someone... caring, concerned... a lover. "Haven't you ever made love face to face?"

David slowly shook his head. "Never with a man."

"Oh my god..." Viggo moaned. "Fucking please...! Let me..."

As answer, David lay flat again, his legs parted, and waited for Viggo to return to his former position. When he did, though, there was none of the pushing and painful stretching that normally went with sex after a long time. He could tell he was tight, and was happy for Viggo's sake, but there was no shock of brutal entry like he was expecting. The greased organ, swollen to its fullest, slid into him so slowly, that by the time Viggo was fully seated, they were both shaking with the desire for more movement, more depth, more everything. He was full up, a sensation which he'd always found a little weird, and besides that, he was in a position now he considered more submissive than bottoming on hands and knees.

Well, he wasn't going to just lie there. Viggo was moving, watching him, braced up on his locked arms well above David. "You okay?" he asked, swiveling his hips. The image of that, the eroticism, burned David's brain. Maybe the Dane was not ripped within an inch of his life but when his thoughtful and circumspect side lay in ruins in the shadow of his sexuality like it did now, his tough, wiry body with its soft but leathery skin and crisp hairs. Here lived a normal man with extraordinary capacities--both in the physical act of sex, and in the assurance that he would stop at nothing to make it good for his partner, was more evocative than some fake-buff little hard-on who was no more than good eye candy. And to David, this was all important, as he liked to think he felt the same way about things, about himself, even though he might be just a bit out of his depth at this moment.

"Get down here," he growled. He wanted this; after that long lead-up and maybe three or four slow thrusts, he was already going crazy for this new thing. Arching, grabbing, pulling, wrapping his legs around the pumping buttocks, David closed his eyes and let himself feel it all. Viggo's impressive shaft slid in and out of him faster than at first; he could tell that his sweet spot was being avoided to prolong this. Hyper-aware of the silky slide-prying of his ring-muscle, he pushed down fearlessly.

At his chosen lover's frenzied, wordless begging, Viggo flattened himself, heavy and fidgety, on Dave, whose cock was now trapped between them. The maddening tickle of sweat, pre-cum and hair made them crazy with need. Then, in the darkness behind the lids of his rolled-backed eyes, Dave felt smooth lips touch his mouth, reclaiming him. He claimed right back. It was so hot, the exact flip and curl of the other man's slick and adaptable tongue that could go from wafer-thin and pliant to huge and filling his mouth in a heartbeat.

"NNnnnngh..." Sounds that would have been extremely embarrassing with anyone else bubbled up out of him. Viggo continued the steady rhythm, forcing him closer and closer to his peak. He had grasped David's thighs, spreading them up and out and hooking them over his elbows. The different angle and better leverage brought direct contact onto the redhead's frantic sweet spot.

He was so utterly gone, but Viggo found it within himself to whisper urgently, "Pull the beads, love..." and David remembered. He was flushed already in near-climax, and the request made it deepen. Not quite believing himself, the Aussie reached probing fingers between the bouncing cheeks which suddenly held still.

"Oooohhh... don't stop!" David cried, even as he located the short, fine cord that would allow him to bring pleasure after pleasure to the one who was blowing his mind. There was a tiny tug, and the first bead slid tantalizingly from within the hidden entrance, which released it reluctantly, and closed again.

"Fucking...!" Viggo squeaked. "More... now!" He tried to stick his rump in the air and roll his hips at the same time. The result was almost comical, and it produced a slightly flustered snort. Apparently Viggo was not concerned however, with what it looked like, and after one such demonstration, the pinned redhead was impatient to get the full impact of whatever those round, stringed baubles could do. He began to pull steadily, feeling the play of the thin ropey twine in his grip. Each bead brought another exclamation from the Dane. His throat worked and his breathing was stilted; he had his knees so far apart and forward under David, that the paler man's arse was snugged up against his lower abs.

In an internalized mirror to what he was watching, the Aussie could sense how he gritted and bared his own teeth. Five, six, seven beads... noises like a wounded animal rolled out of Viggo's gut as he pounded...the thrusts got harder, deeper. Nine... ten... Viggo lifted his head and screamed and sprayed David's insides with thick cream.

The involuntary, orgasmic vibrations of his cock finally rubbed that spot David knew his lover had deliberately withheld till now. In his turn, he arched his back off the bed and let it go. He'd never before in his life cum without wanking himself the few times he'd bottomed, and the ferocity of his release surprised him. Spunk and more spunk shot up between their flushed fronts. Viggo raised up slightly, enough so streaks of white painted all over David's chest, even up onto his face. Swirling his outstretched, elastic tongue into the syrupy liquid, the Dane fed his spasming lover his own seed a lick at a time. The last two beads had popped out with sharp tugs during his climax, heightening it so that the euphoric glide back down seemed to last years. There he was, holding David, kissing him, watching the redhead's own afterglow expressed in soft hands touching him lightly all over.

"Well then..." Viggo drew out the words and his thoughts. With a last unexpectedly tender little kiss, he rolled off, wincing slightly, and reached for papers and tobacco. David tossed the string of beads to the floor with a grimace, and gingerly sat up. Viggo was rolling them each a smoke; he lit them, and dragged on his own exaggeratedly, exhaling as he if were considering whether he'd ask a question or not.

He did. "How long for you?" It was simple curiosity.

"Oh... As long as for you."

Viggo looked shrewdly at his friend. "At whose hands?"

"Who do you think?" Dave met that look with his own, and understanding flowed between them.

They smoked in silence, thinking over their encounters, past and present. Anyone watching them would have noticed small upward pulls of their lips periodically, furtive glances that didn't quite meet, and languid movements. "Were you satisfied?" Viggo asked out of the blue.

Dave swung his head in the other mean's direction so fast his spiky hair shivered. "You're kidding me, right?"

The light eyebrows went up, as did one shoulder.

"Ah hell... don't know when it was ever that good. You're a fucking freak you know... but... never thought I'd say this... it's a good thing. Dunno if it will wear off..."

Now it was Viggo's turn at incredulity.

Dave told him, "I'm not going to make it more than what it is..."

"And what is it...?!"

"Whatever you want, Viggo. And whatever I want... and where ever they happen to meet in the middle, mainly."

"And love?"

David smiled. "That could be in the foreseeable future."

"Good, because at my age, five or six more years of not saying... might be a large chunk of my life."

Rolling his eyes, David told him, "Then say. As in, the opposite of 'not saying.' And I'll play."

"Even with fruit?"

"You're a fruit!"

Exaggeratedly queenish, Viggo lisped, "Oh Yeth!! And I know jutht the nut-th for my fruit thalad!" His blue eyes sparkled as he flipped back his hair.

"Tosser!" But he was giggling now, too.

"Toth the thalad, baby...!"

Clutching his sides, David pleaded for it to end. "I want my MANLY lover back."

Viggo used his regular voice, even made it deeper for the Aussie's benefit. "I'm right here. You know where I live now. Not many have that privilege. So come visit me, any time you want..."

"Yes, I am privileged." David made it clear by inflection about what he thought of his privilege. It was... at this moment...what he'd never known he'd always wanted. "And I'm going to."

*****

THE END

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