orangetoughguy | log post II

[Back to chest, White swallows and tilts his head back against any part of him if it's possible.]

Do it.

[Fuck him and fuck him over good. Whatever's gonna come, the old man should have seen it coming. He didn't look he just leaped to get his bones jumped. A cautionary tale or some shit. This only means after he has to move more, think faster. Mob or police force on your tail it is no joke.

White rolls with Orange. The hard hits shake him to the core.]

Okay.

[Orange says almost passively despite being the one plowing away at White's ass. His free hand forces the old man's thighs farther apart before darting between them to finish what he started. White's dick is still a little slick from his saliva, from sweat, from all kinds of things maybe. The kid beats in time with his thrusts, cock pushing at its deepest into his ass as his fist squeezes downward like he's putting him in a vice, then outward. Inward, outward.]

I want you to come so fuckin' hard, baby.

[Oh shit, the B-word slipped out.]

[Ain't he so fucking sweet in that way. That word and the way he's touching him inside and out; buttering him up in every way. It's almost suspicious. White can't deny the tone of his voice. This cop is either in too deep that all the lies and truths are indistinguishable or he is honest and in more trouble than he can afford. Which is the better and for whom?

The older man's cock in Orange's hand is definitely slick with both of those things and now pre-cum.]

Like that Orange. Oh fuck. Baby, just like that. I'm gonna.

[He breaks his rushed words to moan under him. Is it the flames of betrayal that are burning him up from the inside or this young man's winning ways. Hell has it's torturous pleasures. His back arcs and dips. All for Orange too. Those hands on him. Damn.]

Do it, White, come for me.

[Come for a cop, he thinks to himself with some guilt but no shame. Is that even possible, to feel shameless and guilty at the same time? He keeps pumping his fist over the other man's dick, eager to milk the fuck out of it before he'll even consider coming first. It's getting damn hard to keep it in though, Orange can feel his own balls tightening up, ready to flood the other man's body with all he's got.]

Come you tight fuck. [The kid pants, focusing his squeezes at the head now.]

[Thick, gunning arms bend to support his upper body on his elbows. His face is almost to the rug at this sharp angle he moans. Will the other man be thinking he's a rent-boy too damn old for the game even with his performance. White doesn't care. He won't. Not when he can get this man into it too. This may be it for the two of them. Selfishly, White wants Orange to think about this any time he is with any other person--man or woman.

A cop. A goddamn motherfucking cop.]

Goddammit.

[He tenses completely. If Orange thought that White was tight before well, as he hits the big time there may not be any room to move. His load spills out into the man's fist maybe hitting the rug too.]

[Oh he'll think of White the next time he does this with anyone, he'll be thinking of White even when he's not doing anything like this with anyone, or his hand. Something about White has captured Orange and he can't get out of it. The kid spreads his fingers only to curl them up once again. He's eager to feel the hot stickiness on his hand.]

That's it, it's what you wanted huh? Dirty man...

[Freddy puffs and puffs, green eyes squeezing shut then open again. He's not gonna last. He's not. With a groan he spills over into the older man's body, writhing and thrusting as hard and deep as he can until they're flush up against each other. Then he's grinding into his as.] Fuck.

[Panting, gasping he has to try and answer a few times before succeeding.]

Yes. You got what I want.

[He is what he wants. You can't always get what you want. Everyone knows that. He'll gladly take the load. White roughly grinds back.]

Yeah, baby. [He tilts his head to try and look at the man's face. Even if he can't, it's enough to feel him clutch at his skin.] Keep it up. Like that. Mmmm.

[Sunday morning's pretty easy going so far. So far that by late morning, nearest the afternoon, Freddy Newendyke is still doing his own casual thing at home. Today, at this moment, it consists of holding a sliced piece of papaya in one hand while the toucan nibbles and chips away at it. His other hand consistently flips the page of a comic book. Every now and then green eyes dart up to catch sight of a bear. He's been keeping track of Larry's movements and manner all day. All day. Flip.]

[Finally letting go of White's cock means he's clutching onto his hip again, making a little mess of cum there as he holds them close together as possible. Orange holds him in place until he feels he's unloaded every last drop of himself in there. Fuck they didn't wrap up. What's he done to this man? The kid's clean as far as he knows, but he took him without a condom. That has implications, the kind he wasn't prepared for.]

Christ...

[But he's so fucking beautiful like this, hard and tight on his dick. Don't regret it, Newendyke, if he doesn't then you shouldn't either. Orange presses a kiss to his shoulder.] ...Perfect.

[A wedding. A home. Settling down. All of those are rosy far away concepts that the old man never thought over seriously here in the City, here with Freddy. Owning an apartment together and day to day life has been living the dream.

Yesterday was not awful. Just. Not what was expected at all. These curses keep pitching curve-balls. It's a lot to mull over. A lot. Larry has been spending his day doing the ironing, cleaning here and there. At this rate though it'll be an overhaul. He heads into the kitchen for a drink of water. There's the kid on the couch, right? Well.]

Hey.

[Oh it's a dream alright, he's just never considered taking it farther. Freddy's only twenty-seven after all, and yeah he has family who's married earlier but this is different. He's only barely begun recognizing the kind of partnership that makes him happy. Rings, a lawn, only one bed for life, that scares him. But yeah, for now Freddy hasn't bolted. He's still on the couch with the bird. When Larry speaks though he gets a sinking feeling in his chest.] Yeah?

[White exhales thickly. A hand stops clutching at the rug to reach back to thread into the man's hair. He smells like sweat and testosterone. It's the scent of a man, not a cop.

When he believed this was the last, necessary push until he had him all for his own for sure there was no need to wrap up. The old man wasn't a sailor. And he fancied that Orange didn't get around all that much. At least that was what he thought at first. On this end of a hard, hot fuck it's easy to believe otherwise.

Christ almighty this cock feels so good deep and solid in his ass, even better with the extra heat of his load.]

Y'did me so damn good. Oh man.

Cause you're good, White.

[Orange counters casually. He presses another kiss to the back of his neck, another to where it meets his shoulder. How can he want to be with someone who's not only a crook but someone he's known in a handful of meetings? It feels so fucking strange, like White's read every chapter in one sitting and Orange wants to give him more. That's not what a cop should do but it's what this man wants.]

I'm gonna pull outta you.

[He whispers this warm against shadowed skin as a precaution.]

[Man. Here we go.]

About yesterday...can we talk?

[Easy into it as much as a lumbering bear can. Clear as day he can see and sense that Freddy does not feel good about it and isn't leaping to talk about it. Or else he would have. Out of the kitchen he comes around the couch. In a wifebeater of his own and sweatpants made more for sleeping and cleaning. Well this is cleaning too. One dirty mess. Larry keeps on walking all the way around. No hurry to answer, Freddy. He's taking his time to sit on the coffee table in front of him.]

[Fuck. Fuck. Right away he knows anything he has to say about the matter will probably just hurt Larry. The kid's no genius but this he just knows because Larry's that kind of man. How does a good guy like him keep wanting to treat a scared little fuck up like Freddy so well? He can't even look Lawrence Dimick in the eye and the guy's sitting right there in front of him.]

I don't want to.

[That's not a 'no' per se. He pushes the comic aside and leaves the papaya on an end table for Sam to peck at on his own. Freddy runs his fingers through his hair trying to figure out a way to be accommodating.] What do you have to say?

[Take a good long look at this, old man. Take it all in. Memorize how the man's breath feels on your skin, how well he fits into your ready body.]

Okay.

[He knows that he'll want this feeling again. But will he want it as much as he wants to live free? This man is a cop. This man could do him in.]

Aah.

[It's not a cry of pain. Just a noise he can't help.]

[He doesn't want to leave those thick fingers on his hair but he's going to have to. Orange straightens up with both hands on White's hips again to slowly pull away. Painstakingly slow enough it evokes another hiss from him for the tightness he feels upon separating. When that's accomplished he plunks back down on the fur rug. A messy fur rug. Huh.]

Is that gonna cost me?

[The kid asks, nodding at the stain on the pelt. He's not trying to say he won't pay for it...but he's on a cop salary, so...]

[That there is a stone wall resistance. The old man threads his big fingers together. Well, he started it. May as well start it right and completely. He'll go out on a limb for the kid gladly.]

I wanna say that...

[His forehead itches. It's not nerves.]

I never thought I'm the marrying type. [Not no more at least. Man woman thing doesn't work. The man man thing is okay. Marriage though that ruins people. Looking into the young man's face he tries to keep a gauge on everything. This is upsetting to the both of them.]

So it's hard for me to believe that I'd go about that at all. I want to ask if that's how it would go down on your end if I pulled that on you.

Pulled what on me? [Freddy asks incredulously. He can't believe his ears. Well more like he can believe his ears, he just doesn't want to hear it.]

Ask me if I wanna move down to South America and live in a fuckin' villa? What do you expect me to say? [Oh shit Newendyke, your voice is doing that reedy thing.]

[White eases up to be on his hands again. Both of them. Though once more for the road and all for Orange's pleasure does he keep positioned, legs splayed.]

Nothin'.

[Seeing as he's paying for far more than he bargained for as it is. He reaches for his trousers to get a smoke.]

Woah. Woah. Hey.

[Both hands up now to try and stop this kind of a start.]

I mean if I asked that we get hitched and I wanted to spend out or days settled like that.

[Which still sounds as though he's making a poor decision seeking to talk it out. If they stop now it won't get resolved.]

[Before you know it he's licking his lips over the sight of White splayed out on all fours like that, freshly fucked. But the moment passes quickly because...well, because he's not supposed to be attached. Don't get fucking attached, Orange. He takes a cue from White and reaches into his own pockets for a smoke.]

Cool. [Light up light up, drag. Keep your words short and simple.]

[Calm down, Newendyke, just calm down. Chill out.]

Why do you wanna know? Jesus Christ, Larry, you don't think that's fuckin' unfair to ask me? [Bring it back, bring it back, man. He rubs between his eyes and down to his nose.]

So in case I get stupid like that I know what to expect. I don't plan on doin' you wrong like that. I just wanna know what I'd be in for. And maybe [huff puff] it'd be heads up for you too. It ain't our doing. It's the fucking City bullshit.

[Though who can say how much of it is what's in them.]

[A few seconds more of reveling in the glow of being good and freshly fucked. This shit can't go like this.]

You can stay as long as you like.

[Though the moment his eyes are closed, the moment he leaves, he may not find Orange. Maybe he'll know it already.]

log post II

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