Chapter 2

After their meeting, Orlando had come to Viggo's rented cottage every day, sometimes with a group, sometimes with Cillian, and sometimes all alone. The latter were the times Viggo looked forward to, though he suffered no small amount of guilt over his eagerness to see Orlando. Surely it was wrong to feel this way about the young man.

It made Viggo nervous to stand close to Orlando over the trays of chemicals as they developed the day's photographs. Viggo was afraid that he would do or say something that would reveal his shameful longings. Though it was torture for him to have Orlando there, Viggo could not send the boy away.

They were standing tantalizingly close, heads bowed over a sheet of silvered paper, watching in fascination as an image emerged. Viggo had sweat on his brow despite the chill in the stone cottage and suggested they go outside to wait for the print to dry. As they stepped out the door, a skein of swans dipped low from the sky and planed to a stop on the still waters of the lake.

Viggo had not stopped to think. He turned and dashed back inside for his equipment. Orlando followed, swiftly and cheerfully doing what he could to help set up the camera. It was in that flurry of activity, a mutual striving to reach a much-desired goal, that Viggo understood the true nature of his feelings for the younger man.

In the late watches of the night, Viggo had dealt with his lustful imaginings about the comely young heir. Viggo had experienced these feelings a few times on the range when the loneliness had threatened to consume his soul. Always he had possessed the strength of will to resist the urges. However, that was before he met Orlando.

And even worse, this day had shown Viggo that he had tender feelings for the young man. Not only did Viggo want to fornicate with the lad, he wanted it to be something more than the temporary relief of an itch. He wanted to tell Orlando that he loved him and to hear Orlando say the same.

"I am a fool," Viggo muttered as he looked through the viewfinder.

A light touch on Viggo's right shoulder made him turn his head in that direction. Without hesitation, he moved the tripod toward the courting swans. As he framed his shot, the cob arched his neck over the pen's as she tucked her lovely head to her snowy breast. Viggo held his breath until he was sure he'd captured the stunning image.

The two swans swam off, unaware of the stir they had caused, as Viggo moved his camera to take another picture of the flock among the reeds. Concentrating on his composition, Viggo was for once unaware of Orlando's presence at his shoulder.

"Exquisite," Orlando said in Viggo's ear, after the photo had been taken.

Viggo's heart began to beat faster as he realized how close Orlando was. If Viggo were to turn, they would be nose-to-nose. Carefully, the photographer moved away.

"Wait, please," Orlando boldly put a hand on Viggo's forearm.

Viggo sleeves were rolled up and Orlando's fingers rested on bare flesh. The photographer was unable to ignore the light touch enough to answer. The fact that Orlando's skin lay warm against his rendered Viggo incapable of speech.

"I know it is wrong of me, but I must speak," Orlando said in the silence. "At the risk of losing your friendship and good opinion, I am compelled to be completely truthful with you. If you should choose to make my confession public knowledge, you will ruin me, but still I must speak or go mad. Will you hear me?"

Viggo nodded.

"I … I have come to hold such great regard for you," Orlando said. "You are a kind man, honest and capable of great dedication. However, let it also be said that you are a veritable Apollo, an Olympian sun god among men of lesser beauty. And if you do not kiss me soon, I think I shall wither on the spot."

Viggo blinked. "Kiss you," he repeated.

"Aye," Orlando affirmed. "I want to kiss you, Mr. Mortensen.

Viggo looked around as though he expected to see some of Orlando's crowd hiding in the shrubs or behind the banks of well-tended flowers. Though he spotted no one, he took Orlando by the wrist and drew him into the cottage.

"None of your friends are going to emerge from hiding laughing uproariously at your wonderful joke?" Viggo asked.

Orlando shook his head. "Of course not. I have wanted to do this since first I met you."

Viggo was stunned when Orlando leaned forward and closed the gap between them. Petal softness brushed the photographer's lips and he instinctively returned the pressure. After much too brief a time, Orlando pulled back and their eyes met.

Viggo reacted to the hunger in Orlando's dark gaze and threw caution into the dustbin. Wrapping his arms around the young man, Viggo held him close and brought their lips together again. When Viggo pressed his mouth to Orlando's, the boy opened to him and a liquid pulse of arousal washed through his groin.

Tentatively, but with growing confidence, Viggo kissed and caressed the object of his erotic fantasies. The more experienced Orlando led by example, turning the kiss into a rousing dance of tongues. As Viggo ran his hands down the boy's narrow back, Orlando reached down to cup Viggo's hard flesh.

With a small noise against Orlando's lips, Viggo came. As a shiver ran through the man's well-knit frame, Orlando realized what had happened, and just how green his new lover was. Gently, Orlando squeezed the shaft he was fondling and released it with a soft laugh.

"So eager," Orlando said. "It is very flattering, but a bit frustrating. You must do better next time."

Viggo groaned faintly, leaning against Orlando. "I'm glad to hear that there will be a next time," he managed to gasp.

"Have you no notion of yourself?" Orlando asked in that same affectionate amused tone. "You are as handsome as the landscape outside that door, and you are so patently a good man. Why would I not want you?"

"Because … I am a man," Viggo regained some composure.

"Ah…"

"You're young, an innocent," Viggo said. "You probably just wanted to express your regard for me with a brotherly kiss and I forced my lust on you. I have no right to corrupt such a … Pardon me, Mr. Bloom, but what is so amusing?"

Orlando stifled his giggle and banished the memory of using his stockinged foot to bring Cillian off under the table this morning. If there was one thing Orlando could not abide, it was sulking at breakfast. It was a pity that young Lord Murphy had allowed himself to become so attached to Orlando, but was that Orlando's fault?

"You must forgive my ill-mannered humor, Mr. Mortensen," Orlando said. "I do not mind at all that you are a man and I hope it will not disappoint you too much to learn that I am … not inexperienced in the ways of the flesh."

Viggo cocked his head to the side. "I don't mind, Mr. Bloom. I am relieved."

Orlando smiled, and Viggo's recently sated manhood stirred to life again.

"If you wish it, Mr. Mortensen," Orlando said. "We can get even better acquainted when you have … recovered. Let me know when you are ready."

"I'm ready, Mr. Bloom."

Orlando took Viggo by the hand and led him to the tiny bedroom. The young man disrobed unhurriedly, letting his lover grow used to so much naked skin by degrees. Slowly, requesting acquiescence with his eyes before each new transgression, Orlando removed Viggo's clothing.

For several long moments, they stood gazing upon one another in silent admiration. As though Aphrodite had sounded a silver chime, they reached for each other at the same time. Strong arms enfolded bodies with hard flat planes and little softness to be found beneath the skin, and both were more than content that this was so.

"I've never … fornicated with a man," Viggo confessed in a low voice.

Orlando's delight laugh rang out again. "Fornication," he chuckled. "What a fine word, but four syllables are too many for a lie-about wastrel like myself. No, my dear, my beautiful, my most well endowed Mr. Mortensen, we shall make love, or if you prefer, we can fuck."

Viggo gasped. Though he had heard the vulgar, ancient word more than once on the ranch where he'd grown up, it was shocking on Mr. Bloom's sweet lips. It had quite the opposite effect on Viggo's manhood, which came to straining attention.

Clearing his throat, Viggo answered. "I'd rather make love, if it is all the same to you."

"I have done more of the other than I care to remember," Orlando said. "I do believe I have grown tired of fucking."

Viggo's arousal twitched and a bead of moisture appeared on the tip. Orlando's smile grew wider as he reached for the hard column of flesh. Viggo's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"No," Viggo said. "Don't touch me yet. I'm so excited; I'll probably make a fool of myself again."

Orlando palmed the man's sandy hair. "You did not make a fool of yourself. I am flattered that I excite you so much. Truly I am."

"What can I do to … for you … to make you feel … I am hopeless at this," Viggo said.

"Then it is just as well that I have a modest talent in this area," Orlando said. "Let us start with a kiss and proceed from there. I am certain the rest will follow quite naturally."

Orlando knew whereof he spoke. When their lips met again, Viggo had no doubt that this was right. When Viggo shifted to pull Orlando closer and their hard flesh touched, he surrendered to the fire.

A groan rose from Viggo's chest as Orlando grasped his buttocks and pressed their groins more firmly together. The photographer looked into the lovely face so close to his and felt weak in the knees. This had such an air of unreality; it could not be happening.

Taking comfort in the fancy that this was another daydream, Viggo felt his natural self-confidence return. Brushing back the heavy wave of dark hair that overhung Orlando's smooth brow, Viggo placed a kiss there. Moving in a seemingly random pattern, Viggo kissed every inch of Orlando's face and started down his neck.

"I was right, Mr. Mortensen," Orlando said, when Viggo reached his left nipple. "You are … oh dear! You are a natural. Oh my! That feels very … nice indeed. Oh!"

Emboldened by Orlando's vocal encouragement, Viggo let his instincts guide him and nibbled delicately at the hard bud. A series of increasingly impassioned moans accompanied Viggo's maiden performance. Shedding his inhibitions moment by moment, Viggo licked, sucked and chewed his way down to Orlando's navel.

Orlando arched his back as Viggo's tongue darted into the shallow depression. The man repeated the caress, thrusting his tongue in Orlando's navel and swirling it about. Orlando sat down rather suddenly on the narrow bed.

"You have undone me, Mr. Mortensen," Orlando said, looking up at the man.

Viggo gazed into the lust fogged eyes and had the sudden desire to pounce on Orlando and fill the boy with his aching manhood. Pulling together the shreds of his control, Viggo spoke.

"Please call me Viggo, Mr. Bloom."

Orlando shivered at sound of the man's voice, raspy with desire. "And you must call me Orlando when we are like this."

"Orlando," Viggo repeated reverently.

"Yes, Viggo?" Orlando responded as he lay back on the bed.

"I love you, Orlando."

"Then come and love me, Viggo," Orlando said, letting his legs drift apart.

"Do you mean that we should lay together?" Viggo asked.

"I would like that very much," Orlando said. "Much more than anything else we could do together today. I am expected to dine with La Jolie at five."

Jolted back to reality of the situation, Viggo became practical. "Won't we need something for lubrication?" he asked.

"In your art supplies you have linseed oil. You keep it clean, don't you?"

Viggo nodded. "Give me a moment."

When the photographer returned, Orlando had arranged the pillows, placing one under his lower back.

"I prefer doing this face to face," Orlando explained. "And sometimes it pains my back."

"I'll be mindful of that," Viggo said as he put the oil in Orlando's outstretched hand.

With the ease of long practice, Orlando oiled and stretched his sheath as Viggo watched in red-cheeked fascination.

"Now," Orlando said, bending his knees. "I am ready for you."

Nervous, but determined, Viggo knelt between Orlando's thighs. Grasping the slim hips, Viggo pulled the boy's buttocks higher. Orlando nodded approval as the man took hold of his arousal and guided it the glistening opening.

Orlando sighed when Viggo's cock pressed against his entrance. "Go on," the young man said. "Push harder. I want your cock in me."

The hot hardness pulsed against Orlando's port and the boy moved restlessly against the muscular thighs. Viggo's fingers sank into Orlando's flanks as he leaned forward in response.

"Don't be afraid," Orlando said in a strained voice. "You will not hurt me."

Viggo thrust and the tip of his manhood breached the resilient ring. Orlando clutched at the linen, his breath coming in short gasps as the thick shaft slid inexorably into him. Viggo raised his eyes from the stirring sight of his manhood disappearing into Orlando.

"Are you really all right?" he asked.

"Pray do not fret," Orlando said between clenched teeth. "This gives me great pleasure."

"It doesn't appear so."

"You of all people should know what deceiving things appearances are," Orlando answered. "You reveal the charm of the seemingly mundane with your camera."

Viggo eased the last inch of his cock into the tight channel and had to remind himself to breath. The heat that surrounded his manhood was the most exquisite sensation he had ever experienced, and he dared not move lest he spill his seed untimely.

"I cannot describe to you how I feel," Viggo said softly.

"You do not need to," Orlando answered. "Only be still for a few more moments until I grow accustomed and then … oh then we shall know pleasure sublime."

"I wish with all my heart that I had a photograph of your face at this moment," Viggo said.

"You may take my portrait later," Orlando said. "Just now I would be pleased if you would move your manhood slowly in and out. Ah yes, just so. Capital, Mr. Mortensen."

"I won't be able to do this for very long," Viggo warned as he gently rocked Orlando's pelvis.

"No matter," Orlando said. "We have weeks in which to further your education."

"I did not mean that. I want to pleasure you before I … spurt again. How can I do that?"

"Touch me," Orlando said simply.

It was a moment before Viggo comprehended and then he took hold of Orlando's leaking shaft. Relying on his knowledge of his own equipment, Viggo grasped the curved column and stroked it rapidly. Orlando's hips moved, thrusting his arousal into the man's fist and impaling himself more deeply.

"I cannot wait," Viggo panted. "I'm going to spill. Should I take my manhood out?"

"No!" Orlando yelped. "Pray do not. I am ready as well. Thrust harder, if you please."

Viggo increased the force of his stroke and fisted the boy's arousal to the same tempo. Orlando threw back his head and climaxed with a cry of bliss. In mid-thrust, Viggo's cock jerked and shot hot fluid into the narrow passage. The man pushed all the way in, leaning forward to wrap his arms around his lover.

"Is this all right?" Viggo asked, suddenly concerned that he was lying atop Orlando.

"I am well and more than well," Orlando purred. "I will ask you again not to move for a bit."

Viggo fetched a deep sigh and murmured against the young man's smooth chest. "I still can't quite believe you granted me this freedom. What have I done to deserve Paradise? And why are you laughing at me?"

"I do not laugh at you, Viggo," Orlando said. "It is just that I am delighted with you. I had grown weary of joyless coupling and you brought wonder back into my life. There can be no talk of gratitude between us. Whatever I have given you has been returned tenfold."

"I will never believe that," Viggo said.

"Then you will not," Orlando answered briskly. "I can do nothing about that. However, I will do my best to convince you that you bring me equal joy."

And he did. Twice more.

Read Chapter Three of Nineteen of Bailey's Turn the Page