She Believed

"And you wouldn't?"

Orlando snorted again. "You're a little lacking in certain areas."

"Is that right?" Miranda tried to stand, bumped her hip on the table, and then tried again, tripping over her own feet. This was insulting. She was leaving.

"I'm leaving, y' bastard. Sho much for talking me down. You were doing good, y'know, up till the last twenty sheconds." With that she was on her way to the door, knocking over the half-full bottle of scotch, which Orli righted before too much had spilt.

"Miranda?" he said to her back, standing after she had passed him.

"What?" Her hand was on the latch.

"I like you angry."

She turned halfway around. "Well, you got it. Happy? Good night!"

Orli took three steps and reached behind her to lock the door. She stood there, limply, looking up at his wide mouth and the dimples that had appeared as he smirked at her. That mouth was coming closer. His lids were down, lashes fanned against the outrageous cheekbones.

"What the fuck're y'doing?" Miranda bitched at him blearily.

"Yes." He opened up his eyes and leered at her; the irises had gone almost black. 'Yes? What the hell kind of answer...?'

Teeth. He was chewing lightly on her earlobe. The shoulder on that side jerked up;he pushed it back down. Now that the side of her neck was exposed so Orlando licked it, from her collarbone all the way up to her jaw. She just stood there, slack-mouthed. He did it again.

"You better not be fucking playing with me," she managed. Her vision skewed. First she was looking at him through the wrong side of a telescope. All of sudden he was an inch away. The heat rising from his very skin was palpable.

"No, we're both getting what we want."

They tore into each other. Clothes went flying every which way. They kissed ferociously, kisses of denial and sympathy and just plain want. Orli ripped her sweater in his haste to get it out of the way. Then he caught his ring in the lace of her bra and ruined it, too. "Fuck! Sorry!" Miranda had unbuttoned his shirt, tracing her fingers up the smooth skin. She pushed jacket and shirt off his shoulders in one motion. While he removed his arms from the inside-out mess of clothes, she unzipped her jeans and slithered out of them, kicking her feet out along with her socks and shoes all at once. Stepping back to Orlando's half-naked body, she tugged with fumbling fingers at his thick, studded belt, too distracted by the bulge below. He had to do it for her. His baggy jeans dropped. As he always bragged, commando. None too gently, he took her hand, which was led to his hard penis. The familiar ache in the pit of her belly intensified till she could have sworn it was a cramp. Wetness seeped out of her till the underwear she still wore was sticky and unbearable. Orli pulled her flush against him. His hands went everywhere, into her hair, tracing her ribs, down her back to cup her arse. She reached around to grab half of his behind in a mimic of his pulling-in. The other hand wrapped around his most sensitive part, steel covered in suede, and stroked him quickly.

Orlando hissed between clenched teeth. "Ah Christ, that's good. I'm going to fuck you so hard... You think you can take it?"

"Bring it on." She felt like she was in an earthquake. Everything moved unreal-ly. Alcohol-laced blood roared in her ears.

Miranda felt herself being backed around to Orli's unmade bed. The backs of her knees hit it first and she tripped again; Orlando pushed her backwards. He landed on top of her, hard, forcing the breath out of her. Totally naked now, he ground sleek hips down forcefully, his cock fitting against her slit and abrading her clit through her panties. She wanted to scream out of pleasure and frustration. It only got better. A moist warmth pressed down over one erect, aching nipple and sucked. Then bit. Miranda arched up against Orli and wrapped her legs around his waist. She wanted to touch him, but he had taken over. Her hands needed to do something; they loved his skin, the play of muscle and tendon beneath. Still, they soon needed more, so fingers wound into his thick hair and pulled convulsively.

"Wha'?" Orli looked up at her, breathing hard.

"C'mon. You can't do that to me. Let me touch you."

Orli remembered the diatribe from earlier. He rolled off and to the side, pulling her slickened panties down as he did. They left wet streaks on the insides of her legs. "Mm, you smell good. I can't wait to dive into that."

Miranda was surprised. "You do that?" she questioned.

"'Course. Don't you want me to?"

"Later."

That said, Miranda leaned over him, taking in his form in the dim lighting. Orlando must have clicked off some lights while she wasn't paying attention. Experimentally kissing his mouth, then his chest, she found his flat nipples to be every bit as sensitive as hers. This was new. She lapped and nipped until Orli was writhing in the bed and pressing his erection up into the palm she'd laid over the top of it. She moved slightly to the side and sucked at his damp skin, not hard. His long, lean body invited her to leave marks on it.

"This ok?" she asked permission.

"Do it." Miranda applied pressure and sucked a purple bruise onto Orlando's chest, then another. She licked at him, squiggled her tongue, and made a third mark below the first two.

"Oh, god... Suck me!" Orli needed her, badly. Women didn't usually get to him like this. The slight pain she'd just inflicted when she marked him enflamed him. He wondered if it was because she'd fought it so hard, hanging on the vestiges of pride. He just hoped she knew what she was doing. She was more than willing now in any case. Orli's belly trembled as she kissed her way down the center. Long strands of strawberry-blond mane brushed against his side, ticklish. Already fine-tuned to respond, he jerked slightly when she poked a pointed tongue into his navel. Before she quite reached his pulsing cock, he moved himself upwards on the bed so she could kneel between tensed legs, but she chose the side. Oh, fuck it. He pulled her into the middle. "Miranda, please!"

This was decadent, Miranda decided, this beautiful man spreading his legs for her like that. His cock was weeping and twitching against his stomach. God, she would suck him... His precum tasted sugary. She licked it all up and popped his length into her mouth. Orli moaned. Loudly. She took it as encouragement. Then she made herself familiar with his anatomy, tonguing the thick, firm head, the vein underneath, and the tracery of vessels all over his shaft. Unmerciless, she teased him like this till his hips flailed rhythmically underneath her hands, hitching, undoing himself. Mouth clamped as tight as she could, she blew him till his balls drew up into small, wrinkled things. With a hand on the back of her head, Orlando let his pent-up lust go and simply fucked. She knew it; she just happened to be what was being fucked, but it didn't matter. All of her earlier disgust and despair were consumed in Orli's fire, and her own. She got the sense that he gave as good as he got; besides, she had hurt him earlier in a way and, well, this was a messed up way to apologize but it would have to do.

"Oh, ohgodohgodohchrist!" He gasped. Threw his head to the side and growled. She'd never heard anything like that from a man. Miranda's world was spinning; she wanted him to...she had to see...

"Make me cum, you little bitch! Make me....Oh, yeah, Ah!" Orli raised him hips up so Miranda slammed her mouth down on him as far as she could go, watching him cum. His whole body moved in little snake-like undulations. The sheets were fisted in both hands; beads of sweat showed at his hairline, giving him an unearthly halo.

Hot spurts of seed flooded her oral cavity as he rammed himself in and out. While she tried to swallow, she found her throat too full of cockhead to get it all. When it was over, and Orlando lay gasping for breath, shaky, Miranda cleaned him with her tongue. She looked around for something to wipe her face off with that was not the sheet.

"Uh, I got some of you on my face...you got a cloth or something?"

Orlando solved the problem. "C'mere," he drawled lazily. "Ai, that was sweet, love."

'What the...?' Miranda couldn't believe it. The man sat up and licked his own cum off her face. It was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. She'd ignored her own needs temporarily, but now they gushed down the insides of her thighs. As they kissed, tongues twirling, his teasingly, hers more urgently, she tasted him all over again on Orlando's tongue.

"Your turn," said Orli. He pushed her down, onto her back. For a time he played with her small breasts, licking pointed, hard nipples. Still, he could see that she needed much more. Just as she had done to him, he drew his tongue and lips southward. Miranda went very still and lay quivering in anticipation.

"Open your legs for me, love." Just hearing such a phrase almost undid her right there. Oh, god, the things he said. And so guileless about it. She did as he asked, and he lay prone between her limbs, looking up at her over her dark-blond curls. "Y'ready."

"Please, 'Lando." Her voice sounded squeaky. "Just... do it...eat me..."

He parted her nether lips with long fingers, and dipped his head. The hotness and friction of his tongue licked over her slick surfaces in a not-fast, not-slow madness. Two of his digits found her hole and pushed in; at that instant Orlando sucked down on her tiny throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around like a tornado. White heat seared outward, frying synapses. She bucked up, a near-collision into his nose that he evaded. "Sorry," she whispered.

"No worries." He lowered his head once more.

Miranda came apart under his seeking, playful mouth. Orlando, once he found her clit, flicked it a hectic assault until she rode up the red mountain of orgasm and threw herself over. She didn't come down. When her legs wanted to snap shut around his head, the brunette held them open with his elbows and finger-fucked her till she did it again. She'd never experienced female ejaculation before; now she did. Cream exploded out of her; it felt like she was turning inside out. Orli just licked it up. Miranda didn't know what her name was anymore. She didn't remember the name 'Viggo.' She heard herself crying out, "Orli," over and over again. He paused long enough to joke, "Oh, you know m'name?" and then he went back down. Miranda was nearing her third climax when Orlando looked his question up at her.

She knew. While nearly outside herself with satiated yet unfinished gratification, she was not unaware of how he'd been grinding his hips into the mattress, his hard, lean buttocks clenching and unclenching. "Yes," she hissed at him, and meant it.

Orli crawled up her, dragging his soft skin along hers. Every nerve ending in her body was made to stand at attention as tiny hairs brushed together electrically. Miranda moved her legs wider apart to make room for his body, raised them to wrap around him. Orli settled on top of her, smoothing the tangled hair back from her forehead. She mimicked the gesture. The planes of his face beckoned. She was unable to stop herself from tracing them. Clearly he enjoyed the attention, nearly purring. In the lull, he reached overhead, pulled out a drawer, and retrieved a condom. The wrapper he tore with his teeth. He did everything, went through the whole preparation one-handed. She didn't want to muck it up, and remained as she was. Soon: "Ah have somethin' for ya, love," he slurred.

She needn't ask what. The raging circumference of it pulsed against her leg. Miranda reached down to guide, leading the tip of him to her slippery entrance, eased him in just a little, and waited. Orlando looked down into her eyes. His whole body bunched with the force of his thrust. Miranda cried out in surprise. He was big, she already knew that. Maybe it was the shape of him, but she hurt. After the first surge, Orli didn't move. "'S Ok, Miranda. I kinda expected that. 'S been awhile for you, right?" She nodded. She'd said as much earlier.

"Give it a minute." And then, "Holy mother of god... You feel so good." She did; hot and tight and so, so slick.

Very quickly she opened up to the whole of him. Damn, it was good, it was great, it was fucking wild, being fucked silly by this crazy androgynous guy, so like herself in some respects. She started to giggle; her insides clenched down, enough times in rapid succession it felt like they were set on permanent spasm. It tickled, almost, but the cock inside her was too insistent. He didn't cease pounding into her. After her last release, her body went slack. She just wanted to loll and feel the rush. Orli was far from finished, however.

"I'm not done with you, yet." He thrust urgently, pushing her a little at a time up the bed. "Hands and knees, 'kay, Miranda?" He pulled out. Sat back on his heels. Eyed her expectantly, stroking himself restlessly. Wicked. Apparently she wasn't done either because Miranda didn't like the emptiness left by the lack of him. She thought fleetingly about what it meant that she was with someone who was bi; was he asking for this position so he could imagine she was a man? Would he move any differently because of it? She wanted to know. Eagerly, on her knees, she spread tired thighs for his access again, leaned forward. Orli pushed down on her back and roughly grabbed her hips. He was at the end of controlling himself. When his penis filled her, she really did howl, face upon the mattress. The angle did ungodly things to her cunt. She exploded again, another warm rush down her legs. Orli slid in her cum, slid like a piston, hitting against something on the inside of her that made her lose her grip. All she could do was cum, letting loose of her long abstinence and her stupidity over... what's his name?... Orlando's hard strokes got shorter, faster; she didn't even try to keep up. She would be still now, ride it out, wait, let it build.

He was talking to himself. Had been for a while, now.

"Oh, yeah, that's it. Come on, baby, c'mon... Uh yeah, fuck that beeyach. Bloody fucking hell! Oh, god, oh yeah, yeah, ... gonna cum...fuck!"

His voice got lower and quieter, the exact opposite of what Miranda's did in such moments. The intensity of it was nearly her undoing.

Then: "Oh fucking god, Orli; oh, oh god! Orleeeee!" Miranda nearly died. He was saying his own name. She would have been less surprised if he spouted off with, "ViggoDommie'LijahSeanandBilly." Before she could analyze it though, powerful twitches of his cock meant he was cumming. No way she was missing that. Seconds later he was roughly buried in her to the hilt and she heard herself join his chorus. Holy fucking shit. His heat hit the inside of the condom, inside her; Orlando ground himself into her with all the restraint of an ADHD kid short of Ritalin. She tensed, pushing into it, let him drag her up, rode the wave one more time.

In a haze she barely hear through any more, she became aware of a long, lanky body draped lengthwise over her back, and a pair of soft lips kissing the vertebrae beneath her skull. Their bodies were going to stick together, no doubt. Orli hauled them both to the side, where they flopped to the mattress, still joined. Miranda twined her fingers into his, and lay still.

"I think you cured me." This was the first semi-coherent thought in Miranda's head; she just blurted it out.

"I've been told that before," was the sleepy reply. Orli reached between them and pulled out of her slowly. Slurp! Miranda was horrified.

"I've been told that before, as well," snickered Orli. A long pause. "Eh, Miranda? Don't go getting a 'thing' for me, okay, 'cause I'm not one to stick to one person. I'm telling you now so we don't do to each other like, well, you know."

She knew. Was glad he had said, right then and there. It would have been easy... "Yeah, man. Friends with benefits, right?"

"Mm, hm... Go to sleep, ok? You're staying, right?"

"You sure?"

"I still don't think you should be alone, and me neither."

"Oh, don't remind me! Thank you, Orli." Caustic all over again, in voice. Soft round arse wiggled against him, in body. He threw his arm over her and pulled her close.

"Sorry, love. No way; I'm dead!"

"I'll let you off, then, no use beating a dead wiener, I mean..." Miranda broke off when Orli tickled her right under the hip bone. "Let me up! I gotta pee! You better be a morning man, that's all I'm saying."

"Go take your piss, wench. And hurry up, before I recover."

Miranda stood and had to sit right back down. "What did you do to me? I can't even walk."

"Fucked you. Or what do you call it?"

A pause. "I call it, revamping my belief structure."

"Good. Hurry up, now. I gotta crash. We'll see how this looks in the morning."

Miranda staggered off, smiling a little smile of satisfaction. She was going to love this, actually. Her only difficulty was going to be an Eowyn without snottiness, without worldliness. Let the world hear all about the joys of Viggo. She was cured.