Work Text:
Title: Back In Mr Mortensen’s Office
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: alliwantisanelf. Much, much thanks and love to her for her help. Any errors left are just mine!
Rating: NC17
Warnings: AU, D/s, (Consensual, semi) public exposure.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never happened, just playing with them.
This is a sequel to my lotr_advent fic from last year, which you can find: here! You don't *have* to read that one to understand this one, but you might enjoy it ;)
Orlando bit his lip as he typed. It was just before five o’clock and he had almost finished the pile of work on his desk, ready for the Christmas break. He was especially anxious to finish on time because he was under orders to report back to his boss’s office to reclaim his boxer shorts, after being caught writing a naughty Christmas list earlier in the day. Orlando did not know what Mr Mortensen intended to do with him, but the promise of kinky fun followed by dinner out sounded like a great Christmas Eve to him.
Typing the last word and hitting save and print with a sigh of relief as the clock ticked over to five, Orlando turned his computer off, leaving his suit jacket, coat, and messenger bag at his desk in his hurry to get to Mr Mortensen’s office. He did pause briefly to grab the print out and check his breath before stopping outside the door and knocking on the glass.
“Come,” Mr Mortensen ordered, and Orlando nearly did, before pulling himself together and pushing the door open. “Ah, Orlando, right on time. Close the door, please, and turn the lock.”
Orlando did as he was bid, looking over at Mr Mortensen when he was done, and at a gesture, walking over to where the other man sat in his black leather chair.
“This can go two ways, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen said, his voice entirely matter of fact, as though he was talking about the weather or what he was planning to feed his dog that night. “If you’ve had second thoughts, I’ll give you back your underwear and you can go home. If you haven’t, then we’ll pick up where we left off – which means you should be naked. And you can put that print out in my Inbox, thank you.”
“No second thoughts, sir.” Orlando flashed a nervous smile at his boss before removing his clothes, blushing when his already hard cock was revealed. In truth, he had been erect on and off since he got back to his desk earlier, every time his brain had wandered back to what had happened that afternoon, or his imagination had wandered into what was going to happen later – well, now. When Orlando was nude in front of him, hands by his sides, Mr Mortensen nodded in approval.
“Based on what I read earlier, I assume this is not your first time. Do you have a safe word?” Mr Mortensen asked.
“Uhm… yeah. It’s Canterbury,” Orlando answered. “My home town, so I’m not likely to forget it.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to touch you,” Mr Mortensen stated, standing up and moving forward. “If you need me to stop, or slow down, then just say the word.”
With that, Mr Mortensen began, much as his earlier visual inspection had. He ran a hand through the short brown curls that covered Orlando’s head before moving his hand down and taking hold of Orlando’s chin, tilting his face thoughtfully this way and that, and stroking the downy hair which grew there.
Moving lower, Mr Mortensen’s hands trailed over Orlando’s sparsely furred chest, stopping to tweak first one nipple and then the other. His fingers swirled over Orlando’s aureoles, watching curiously as they tightened under the touch. Orlando’s fingers twitched at his sides, and he couldn’t quite hold in a whimper, half pleasure and half desire for more.
“Hold still,” Mr Mortensen ordered. “We still have some way to go before we get down to business.”
“Yes, sir,” Orlando murmured, breathing deeply and relaxing his hands as his boss’s hands continued to map the contours of his body, travelling down towards his hips before parting to cup his arse cheeks and then meeting just above Orlando’s erection.
“I’m going to touch your penis now, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen commented, placing one hand lightly on Orlando’s shoulder to hold him in place before suiting action to words. His fingers trailed down the length of Orlando’s cock before wandering back towards the leaking tip. Orlando let out a small noise, one hand flying to his mouth to try and keep his silence. Mr Mortensen stepped back, removing his hands from Orlando.
“Would you like some help obeying, Orlando?” he asked, voice full of concern. Orlando slowly moved his hand back down, taking another deep breath before replying.
“I… I’m sorry, sir.”
“Sorry for what? For disobeying, or for not answering the question?” Mr Mortensen’s tone was sharp, and made Orlando’s knees feel weak. He assumed that the help Mr Mortensen referred to was in the form of some kind of restraint – perhaps with a tie or something similar, assuming that the other man didn’t have any ropes or chains here in the office. Being tied up by his boss was high on his list of fantasies, and he certainly wasn’t going to turn it down.
“I’m sorry for disobeying, sir. Please, may I have some help obeying?” Orlando asked, his voice surprisingly steady. Well, it was surprising to Orlando, anyway - his stomach felt like it was flipping over inside him, and his heart was beating fit to burst.
Mr Mortensen smiled. This was really turning out to be a very good day. So far, Orlando was exceeding all his expectations for how this evening was going to go, and they had barely even started.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any cuffs to the office with me today. However, if you would be so kind as to pass me your tie, I believe I shall be able to improvise quite adequately.” Mr Mortensen sat back down in his chair, taking a few moments to relax whilst Orlando hurried to extract his tie from the pile of clothes on the floor, pulling the knot out before handing the reindeer patterned fabric to his boss.
Mr Mortensen took the tie in his hands and stretched it out across the desktop. He formed a pair of loops in the centre like a rollercoaster that flipped upside down twice, and then laid the loops so they overlapped each other. With a flair that told Orlando this was NOT the first time Mr Mortensen had tied someone up, he pulled the centre parts of the two loops through the outer parts, forming a neat set of fabric handcuffs. With a wolfish grin, Mr Mortensen swirled his finger around, inviting Orlando to face away from him. He placed the loops over Orlando's hands, then secured his wrists with the simple but effective tie.
“Now, before we continue, there is the small matter of punishment for your disobedience. You will bend over my knees, and I think the traditional amount is six of the best. For a first offence, I believe that will suffice.”
Orlando’s head was properly downcast as he moved into the required position, Mr Mortensen’s hand steadying him as he leant forward and displayed his backside for admonishment, but there was a definite smile on his face. It had been a long time since Orlando had had a spanking, and he anticipated this one eagerly as Mr Mortensen settled him in place, running a large hand over the pert buttocks before landing the first, crisp blow.
Orlando squealed, the sound just barely making it through his lips before it was bitten off, lips compressed in an effort to endure his punishment silently.
“Don’t hold back, Orlando. You’re allowed to make noises. If I wanted you to be silent, I would have gagged you.” Mr Mortensen’s voice was still, somehow, so calm and conversational, as though he was completely unaffected by what was going on. It would have been maddening, if Orlando hadn’t been able to feel his boss’s cock stirring underneath him as his hips bucked, inviting further punishment.
Each slap felt harder than the one before, and Mr Mortensen took his time delivering the strikes, stroking the handprints he was leaving and occasionally pinching just to hear the moans that this produced from the boy reclining over his lap.
“What do you say, Orlando?” Mr Mortensen asked, rubbing his large hands over Orlando’s now pink buttocks.
“Th… thank you for correcting me, sir,” Orlando spoke unsteadily. The spanking hadn’t been that hard really, and certainly not extended, but it had been a very long time since he had been taken so firmly in hand, and the unexpectedness of it just added to the intensity of the whole situation.
“Good. Good boy,” Mr Mortensen praised, before continuing with his exploration of Orlando’s body, taking advantage of the delectable backside so willingly displayed before him. Orlando moaned, exerting all of his will power to remain still whilst he was fondled, his breath hitching audibly when one of Mr Mortensen’s fingers touched him intimately before moving away again, dipping down to stroke his balls softly before continuing along down Orlando’s thigh and then back up to his arse.
“You know, I really feel like there’s something missing here. Your poor backside looks really rather empty and the way that it’s clenching around my finger suggests that it would like to be filled. What to use, though? Of course I don’t keep any plugs here in the office. I don’t suppose you have one with you, do you, Orlando?”
“N… no, Mr Mortensen,” Orlando managed to say, slightly shocked at the suggestion.
“I thought not. Let me just think for a minute or two, I’m sure there’s something here that will work. And Orlando, whilst we’re in here, call me Sir. Mr Mortensen is much too much of a mouthful when I’m frying your brain.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied. It was useless trying to settle down when he was being constantly teased, touched, and petted, making his cock twitch where it lay trapped between his stomach and his boss’s thigh, but Orlando did his best nonetheless. He was obviously going to be here until Mr Mortensen decided what it was that should be pushed into his arse.
Orlando was sure that he was leaving a puddle of precum on the expensive trousers, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He had other things on his mind. Like reminding himself not to start humping the lap which was currently supporting his weight.
“Ah, I think this will work very nicely,” Mr Mortensen said, reaching over Orlando to grab a desk toy that one of their suppliers had sent as a promotional item. Everyone in the office had one of these on their desk, and Orlando knew that he would never be able to look at them the same way again. The toy was made of smooth plastic and shaped like a skittle, with a larger round ball on top to form a head to the man it was supposed to represent. Looking at it, Orlando figured that it would probably fit fairly comfortably, and the grinning yellow head on top should stop it getting lost inside.
“Open your mouth, Orlando, get it wet for me,” Mr Mortensen ordered, pushing the desk toy into Orlando’s mouth. Orlando licked and sucked at the plastic, getting it as wet as possible before Mr Mortensen pushed it slowly but firmly inside his arse, taking his time to make sure that it didn’t hurt Orlando as it went in.
“That looks much better. On your knees now, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen ordered, helping Orlando to move from his lap onto the floor. “You’ve made a bit of a mess, I’m afraid. You’ll need to take care of that before we continue.”
Orlando looked at the spot on his boss’s trousers. There was enough fluid there that it almost looked like he had come. His hard cock gave the lie to that though, luckily. Somehow, he didn’t think that Mr Mortensen would be pleased if he came without permission.
“Orlando, I’m waiting. You have made a mess on my trousers, and you need to clean it up before we move on.” Mr Mortensen’s voice was hard, and Orlando swallowed before leaning forward and licking at the wet spot, not lifting his head until he felt a gentle tug on his curls, pulling him upright.
“Good boy. Now I have something else for that mouth of yours to work on.” So saying, Mr Mortensen unzipped his fly, taking his own cock from his boxers and gesturing to Orlando, his meaning clear. Orlando licked his lips, unaware how debauched the unconscious gesture made him look. Orlando shifted forwards on his knees, moving awkwardly, unable to use his hands to balance himself.
Unable to resist the urge, Orlando leaned forward enough to lick the tip of Mr Mortensen’s cock, savouring the taste. He heard a chuckle from above him.
“Eager little slut, aren’t you?” Mr Mortensen sounded amused, and more than a little aroused. “I think I’ll forgive the indiscretion, though, this time. You can go ahead and suck it, Orlando.”
Orlando did as he was bid, edging himself slightly further forward and working his mouth around and down the length of the magnificent cock in front of him. Orlando had been told, on more than one occasion, that he had a sinfully good technique, and he put all his little tricks to good use here. It seemed important, somehow, to impress his boss. As though he was in an interview, or maybe an audition.
Mr Mortensen was letting out small moans of pleasure as Orlando’s talented tongue worked its magic. Orlando took his time working Mr Mortensen’s cock right to the back of his throat before swallowing and then backing off to catch his breath. He could feel tiny, restrained movements of his boss’s hips as his lips and tongue passed over particularly sensitive spots.
A hand threading through Orlando’s curls gently pushed him back down, forcing him to take the full length into his mouth again. Swallowing again, Orlando felt Mr Mortensen’s cock twitch in his mouth, signalling that the other man was close to his climax. The hand in his hair tightened, pulling back softly, guiding Orlando’s head from between his boss’s legs.
“Sorry to deprive you of your treat, Orlando, but I think I’d like to come on your pretty face, rather than in that sinful mouth of yours.” Mr Mortensen was surprisingly coherent for a man on the receiving end of one of Orlando’s blow jobs, but his eloquence was one of the things that had initially attracted Orlando to him. Orlando lifted his chin, giving Mr Mortensen the best target. Mr Mortensen tugged twice on his cock, the small stimulation enough to send him over the edge after Orlando’s generous attentions.
Orlando felt a thrill in his stomach as he felt the warm liquid hit his face. He didn’t know why the idea of wearing his boss’s cum was so exciting. Maybe it was the degradation, or the feeling of ownership that he couldn’t help but experience when another man marked him in this way, and Orlando had been lusting after Mr Mortensen for almost the entire time he had been working for him.
“You did very well, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen said, smiling down at the younger man as he tucked himself away and refastened his trousers. “Stand up, now; I don’t believe I finished my inspection.”
Mr Mortensen helped Orlando to his feet, and then resumed his inspection where he’d left off. Orlando’s cock was by now even harder, precum dripping slowly but steadily from the slit in the end. Mr Mortensen’s finger swiped across the edge, producing what could only be called a squeak from his willing captive. The look on Mr Mortensen’s face at this noise could only be described as wicked.
Orlando felt his knees buckle a little as those firm hands moved away from his penis and gently cupped his balls, squeezing lightly in an assessing manner, and then tugging gently on the skittle in Orlando’s arse, just enough to make Orlando gasp with pleasure as the toy rocked inside him. Mr Mortensen didn’t pause for long, though, moving off the chair to kneel as he ran his hands down Orlando’s legs. Orlando wondered how it was that his own kneeling felt so subservient when Mr Mortensen was still clearly in charge despite their relative positions. Mr Mortensen was moving more quickly now, seeming almost eager to finish his inspection, making Orlando wonder just what he had planned for afterwards.
The sound of the telephone ringing made Orlando jump, coming as it did completely unexpected. He wondered who would be calling the office at this time of night, on Christmas Eve no less. Mr Mortensen got to his feet, cupping Orlando’s cheek briefly and reassuringly, before moving to answer the phone.
“Hello?... Ahh, right on time, come on up.” Mr Mortensen’s smile as he winked at Orlando could only be described as wolfish. He hung up and then walked back over to Orlando.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Orlando. It’s just our dinner arriving – they’re very discreet. Come over here and kneel down – you’re not to speak whilst they’re here, is that understood?” Mr Mortensen’s words were blunt and to the point, but there was an air of concern in his voice – he knew that he was pushing Orlando, especially for a first encounter, but he rather thought the boy was equal to it; he might even enjoy the humiliation.
It had been a while since he’d had more than a casual encounter with a submissive, his last serious relationship having ended when the boy had moved away for work purposes – a friendly parting, but he still missed the companionship and release of a regular partner. Orlando was definitely worth more than a single evening – the eager way that he responded to commands, those gorgeous little squeaks and moans when fingers brushed in certain places, not to mention his slim, lithesome figure and the face, with its enormous brown eyes that definitely looked best when peering up from between those curls as he knelt obediently. Mr Mortensen didn’t want to scare Orlando off, but he couldn’t resist seeing whether the boy would accept this exposure. Mr Mortensen knew that there was no danger - his favourite restaurant would certainly not risk annoying one of their most generous patrons.
Orlando knelt obediently, regarding the floor between his knees thoughtfully; Mr Mortensen had placed him behind the desk, sideways on so that he faced the chair. His hands still tightly tied behind his back, Orlando did not think that he had ever felt so exposed as he did right now – if the delivery people were to come around the desk, or look over the top, his private parts would be fully on display. He trusted Mr Mortensen, though; his boss had made it very clear that Orlando’s job was safe and, given the potential risk to the firm’s reputation, he would not be displayed if it was unsafe to do so.
Nonetheless, Orlando could already feel a blush starting somewhere around his stomach and working its way up towards his face. The thought of being seen like this, naked, kneeling, and bound, his face clearly decorated with cum and a bright yellow ball poking out of his backside, sent shivers down his spine. Whatever he had been expecting tonight, it was certainly not this – this was so much better. Looking up at Mr Mortensen, Orlando took a deep breath and then nodded resolutely, settling himself slightly to make sure that he wouldn’t need to fidget for a while.
Seeing Orlando’s acceptance as he visibly calmed, Mr Mortensen reached down to briefly tousle Orlando’s curls, the gesture intended to further reassure him. He then strode over to the door to admit the three young men from the restaurant staff. Two carried trays of silver domed plates, and the third a bottle of wine with glasses and a crisp white tablecloth with which to transform a corner of the large desk into a table suitable for a gourmet meal.
“Good evening, sir. Where would you like us to set up for you tonight?” one of the waiters asked, bowing slightly as he spoke. Orlando bit his lip momentarily at the strange voice, catching himself before he protested someone else calling Mr Mortensen Sir, and then suddenly nervous again now that there were other people in the room. He told himself to relax and just concentrate on breathing, and on the fact that Mr Mortensen wanted this. Sir wanted this, and Orlando did so want to be a good boy for his Sir.
“Over here in front of my chair will be fine, thank you,” Mr Mortensen replied, moving out of the way of the wait staff and back into Orlando’s line of vision, knowing that the boy would probably need some reassurance at this moment. The wait staff moved quickly and efficiently, and other than a slight widening of the eyes and one slightly deep breath, paid Orlando no attention whatsoever. Orlando really wasn’t sure if he preferred being ignored to being stared at, but he just kept his eyes firmly fixed on Mr Mortensen’s shoes and his thoughts firmly fixed on the description of dinner being provided, and not on the throbbing of his cock or the cum slowly dripping down his face as it dried on his cheeks.
The waiter had named each dish as he uncovered it, and the food sounded delicious, although Orlando was unsure what some of the words meant – his usual fare was pretty plain. Not that he was badly paid, but Orlando didn’t have a huge amount of money for luxuries, and he was pretty sure that this one meal was costing Mr Mortensen more than his normal food budget for a whole week at least. There was some kind of fish with asparagus, carrots, and potatoes. There was also some kind of dessert, and of course the wine.
The three waiters did not take long to finish setting up, and Orlando couldn’t help but be relieved when they left. Mr Mortensen closed the door behind them and then sat down, pulling a white linen napkin over his lap. Turning to regard Orlando, he smiled.
“You did very well, Orlando. Shift a little closer now, so that I can feed you.” Orlando did as he was bid, shuffling forward on his knees and then settling down to wait. “Tell me, how did that make you feel, being seen like that?”
“Well, Sir, I felt… embarrassed to start with, but then they were just ignoring me, and I was almost annoyed about that. Like, why didn’t they want to look at me? It was exciting too, though,” Orlando finished, smiling almost shyly at Mr Mortensen, who chuckled, feeding Orlando a forkful of fish before replying.
“Oh, I’m sure they snuck a few glances, Orlando, but it’s part of their job not to notice you. Just like they wouldn’t pay any notice to a pet dog or cat. Here, open your mouth.” Orlando obeyed, opening his mouth to accept the carrot that was held out to him, his mind turning around the concept of himself as a pet. It was certainly something to think about.
As Orlando closed his lips around the vegetable, Mr Mortensen drew it back slowly, teasing Orlando before pushing the carrot back in.
“What do you think of the food, Orlando?” Mr Mortensen asked, eating several mouthfuls himself whilst Orlando savoured the carrot.
“It’s good, thank you, Sir ,” Orlando replied, hesitating before adding, “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything with such a long name though!”
“Was the name particularly long?” Mr Mortensen asked, a little bemused. “It’s just a roast tronçon of turbot with hollandaise sauce, accompanied by seared asparagus, roasted chantenay carrots, and Parisienne potatoes.”
“But what does that mean, Sir? I mean, what is a tronçon? Or chantenay carrots?” Orlando asked. Mr Mortensen chuckled; he tended to forget that not everyone enjoyed the same delicious, expensive food that he preferred.
“Well, pet, a tronçon of turbot is just a fish steak, cut through the bone of the turbot. Chantenay carrots are a type of carrot – quite small and sweet, especially when they’re roasted like these are, and Parisienne potatoes are these little balls of potato, roasted with oil and herbs. Here, try one.”
Mr Mortensen had put his fork down whilst they were talking, and now he picked up one of the tiny potato balls with his fingers, offering his hand to Orlando to eat. Orlando lent forward and took the proffered food, his tongue flicking out and licking Mr Mortensen’s hand as he ate.
“Delicious,” Mr Mortensen murmured, his smile turning predatory again. Orlando flushed. The act of hand feeding felt somehow much more intimate than when the fork had been used. A second piece of potato was offered and eaten, followed by a spear of asparagus and, between mouthfuls of food, sips of wine and the occasional caress or tweak of a nipple. Dinner was finished with Orlando as hard as ever, small drops of precum leaking from the tip of his cock.
“How are you feeling, Orlando?” Mr Mortensen asked, once he had pushed the dinner plate to one side and turned his chair to face the boy kneeling in front of him.
“Hard, Sir. Really hard. But good, too,” Orlando replied. “And this thing in my arse is making it hard to stay still.”
“Well, pet, we’ll do something about that soon. But first, we’re going to have dessert. It’s a chocolate mousse. Simple and classic, but so much fun for you to eat.” Mr Mortensen smiled. He took the small pot and scooped a fingerful of the thick, dark mousse, extending his finger to Orlando and quirking an eyebrow, the implied command clear.
Orlando leant forward and licked the mousse from Mr Mortensen’s finger. It tasted as good as it looked – rich, smooth, and decadent, and Orlando couldn’t suppress a small groan of pleasure around the finger in his mouth. Mr Mortensen regarded him thoughtfully.
“You seem to be enjoying that, Orlando. Perhaps you’d like some more?” Orlando nodded, and was rewarded with a second fingerful, and then a third and a fourth. Mr Mortensen regarded what was left of the mousse thoughtfully.
“I think I have another way for you to enjoy this, pet,” Mr Mortensen said, almost thoughtfully. He opened his fly and, using two fingers, spread a generous amount of the mousse over his erection. Orlando couldn’t help the slow smile that spread over his lips as he realised what Mr Mortensen had planned, but he didn’t move until he was given permission.
“Go ahead, Orlando. I want you to lick every scrap of the mousse off me and then put that mouth of yours to good use. Once you’ve pleased me, we’ll see about giving you some relief.” Mr Mortensen leaned back in his chair, letting his legs fall apart to give Orlando easier access.
Orlando shifted forwards eagerly, licking kitten-like at the chocolate dessert, taking his time and making sure that he was very thorough in his cleaning. He looked up through his curls, eyes meeting those of his boss, which were half lidded and fixed on Orlando as his mouth closed around Mr Mortensen’s cock. The arousal in those steel blue eyes sent a jolt straight to Orlando’s own erection, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself.
Using his tongue a lot, and his teeth a little, Orlando began to do his very best to improve on his earlier performance. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Orlando swallowed around Mr Mortensen’s cock, his tongue pressing hard on a vein as he withdrew. Mr Mortensen groaned, his hands dropping to grip Orlando’s curls.
Last time, Orlando had been allowed to take his time pleasuring Mr Mortensen, but the fingers firmly holding his head told Orlando that right now he was going to get a thorough face fucking. Mr Mortensen bucked his hips, being careful not to hurt Orlando even as he used the boy’s mouth for his own pleasure.
Between Orlando’s talented tongue and the stimulation provided by his warm lips, It did not take long for Mr Mortensen to climax, and this time he held Orlando’s head in place as he came, filling Orlando’s mouth.
“That was very well done, pet,” Mr Mortensen said, once he had recovered his composure a little and tidied himself up.
“Thank you, Sir,” Orlando whimpered, swallowing a couple of times to clear the last of the chocolate mousse and cum from his mouth. Everything that had happened since he arrived in this room earlier in the evening had just been increasing his arousal, and he was now completely desperate for release. He bit his lip, unsure whether begging would be welcomed here.
“Now it’s time for my dessert.” Mr Mortensen rose from his chair and helped Orlando to his feet. “Hop up here onto my desk now, pet, and kneel for me.”
Once Orlando was settled, more or less comfortably, Mr Mortensen took what was left of the chocolate mousse, daubing Orlando’s body with it – his lips, his nipples, a trail down his stomach to his navel, and then the last little bit on the underside of his cock. Orlando shuddered as this last was applied, the stimulation almost too much for him.
“Please, Sir, please, can I…?” Orlando asked plaintively. His previous worries about begging were forgotten – he needed to come, and soon, and although it hadn’t been expressly forbidden, he was sure that Mr Mortensen would not want him coming without permission.
“You can come once I’ve finished my dessert,” Mr Mortensen said, his voice firm, and the look on his face was positively wicked. Starting with a deep kiss to Orlando’s lips, Mr Mortensen worked his way slowly down the body so temptingly displayed before him, licking, kissing, and nipping his way towards Orlando’s nether parts and enjoying the delightful noises the boy made as the stimulation increased.
Luckily for Orlando, Mr Mortensen was feeling fairly mellow after two orgasms, and decided not to drag out the torture too much – just enough to make sure that Orlando knew who was in charge. Once he had licked the last of the dessert from Orlando’s erection, savouring the taste of the boy mixed with the rich chocolate of the mousse, he stood up, taking Orlando’s cock in one hand.
“You can come now, Orlando,” Mr Mortensen remarked, almost conversationally. Had Orlando not been in the midst of one of the most intense orgasms he had ever had, he would have found Mr Mortensen’s calmness extremely aggravating. As it was, he was just grateful for the permission, and couldn’t hold back a scream as ecstasy overtook him.
“Good boy,” Mr Mortensen spoke almost fondly. “Very good boy.” He lifted his cum covered hand to Orlando’s mouth, the order unspoken but obvious to Orlando, who somehow managed to reengage his brain enough to clean his essence from the proffered hand.
Helping Orlando to stand up on shaky legs, Mr Mortensen turned him around and had him bend forward over the table, removing the toy from his backside and untying his hands. Taking the boxer shorts from his desk draw, Mr Mortensen used them as a makeshift washcloth, wiping the cum from Orlando’s face and the remains of the chocolate mousse from his body, discarding the shorts on the floor when he was done.
Mr Mortensen sat back down, pulling Orlando onto his lap and holding him close for several moments, knowing how important it was to ground Orlando after the fairly intense scene they had just enjoyed. He definitely wanted Orlando to leave the office with good memories, and how he acted now was as important as the chemistry they had felt during the evening.
“Alright, pet?” Mr Mortensen asked, as he felt Orlando stir in his arms.
“Yes, Sir. That was amazing, thank you, Sir,” Orlando replied, sitting up a little so that he could turn to look at his boss, and smiling almost shyly up at him. It was one thing to be naked during a scene, but afterwards he felt a little exposed.
“I suppose I should get dressed now. I have an early start tomorrow – I’m heading up to my parent’s house for Christmas.” Orlando knew that he sounded regretful. He would have liked to stay here a while longer.
“That’s probably a good idea, then,” Mr Mortensen said, though Orlando noticed he wasn’t immediately released from the strong pair of arms holding him. The corner of Orlando’s mouth turned upward a little further.
Relaxing his grip so Orlando could begin gathering his clothes, Mr Mortensen reached down and picked something up from the floor. Smiling, he continued, “Orlando? I think I’m going to have to hang on to your boxer shorts for now. They’re a bit dirty and wet, so I can’t in all good consciousness allow you to wear them out in the cold night.” Then he added, almost playfully, “What are you doing for New Year’s Eve? Maybe you’d like to try to get them back for the new year.”