orangetoughguy | log post II

I ain't no Lex Luthor, let's get that straight.

[Freddy manages to growl out between huffs of breath. His hands anchor on the other man's chest, still working his nipples in firm circles. It's almost a battle now as he grinds again, trying to be as much of an aggressor.]

Anything you got to give though, I can take it. [No need for superpowers, no need for a green ring, no need for the tape. Just his body. He's so fucking sure of it.]

Got too much hair.

[Challenge met. The kid isn't quite as handsy, as blatant but he's sure turned on by it. He rubs even harder to show him. That's no pistol in his pocket, not that Sups is party to those. Cowboys are.]

I know you can, my man. [One long stroke from base to tip, slow the first time the next rapid all to get him hard.] Take your pants off.

I ain't rich either.

[He breathes out before dragging his teeth along Larry's solid jaw. If there weren't so many hands and pieces in the way he'd reach down for Larry's magnum too. Oh shit that particular stroke's got the kid groaning. His hands fall away from that chest as he swallows.]

Okay.

[There's that word again. The way he gets off Mr. White is shaky at best, evident in how hard he's become. The kid stands on the floor to unbutton, unzip, slowly strip. Yeah, it's for your benefit, Larry. When he's naked and clearly stiff he just stands there like he's on display, which he is...but he's also waiting for orders because if there's one other way to show who's boss around here it's to make the other guy beg for it.]

Sure about that?

[What they got sure ain't diamonds, but it's golden.]

Stay right there.

[Larry opens his pants and pulls himself out. Brown eyes never leave Freddy though they roam over him as he stands their in their living room. Scars, freckles, wiry and muscled. He takes it all in giving himself a stroke before standing, slowly removing his own pants.]

I'm comfortable, we can leave it at that.

[Golden. Freddy folds his arms across his chest, green eyes watching every flex of muscle and movement of his skin, the way the wildcat contracts. Christ it's got his blood boiling but he won't jump the old man just yet. He can wait, he can wait and not start jacking himself off even as he drinks in the sight of Lawrence Dimick doing it. Needless to say, Freddy's focus is square on the paw working that dick.]

Real comfortable...

[Not. His balls are starting to feel a little tight.]

You deserve to live in the lap of luxury.

[Or this one. Larry stills his hand. Now he feels like he's got special vision, because he can see the tension under the kid's skin.]

Come back on over here. But no coming. Not yet.

[How Freddy would like to get back to the couch, he'll leave that as taster's choice.]

You think so? You think I deserve a big house up in the west hills?

[He can feel those warm brown eyes on him damnit, raising every hair on his freckled skin among other things. For that remark of guidance he just nods, arms coming loose so he can kneel on the couch, first with his bare rear to Larry, legs spreading...only so he can turn over and sit on the cushions again. Those wiry arms reach up and curl to anchor over the back of the couch. His knees part wide.]

A new car too. [He swallows.]

Why stop at once car?

[Alright then. Looks like Mr. Orange wants a head start. Larry leans to lick at his chest to inch down his chest. Any guesses for where he's going?]

I'm workin' on getting a motorbike.

[And work him right and he could go off twice just for you, Lawrence Dimick. Of course it's your choice. Freddy tilts his head back, exhaling low and thin for the tongue he feels trailing down his chest.]

You can ride with me...on the back.

[Bitch seat for you, Larry, only because you ought to trust Freddy as a driver.]

You like a fast ride. I shouldn't be surprised.

[His tongue flicks over the tip of his cock, then swirls.]

We ride all the time, with me in the driver's seat.

[A switch would make him happy wouldn't it? That's what he thinks as he hoods Freddy's cock.]

Who says you can't have it all?

[That tongue's got him shivering enough to have to let go of the couch. He transfers one hand from the leather to the thickness of Larry's hair. Sure he's graying here and there but he's not thinning, not receding. For fuck's sake he's forty-two, not even close to a senior. The way he knows how to work a cock though, speaks great lengths of his experience.]

Mmhm. Wouldn't mind would you?

[The switch up. For the driver's seat that is. He'll take his mouth right now but that dick is going places eventually. Huh, or is that no different from still being in the driver's seat? Larry does steer the car one way or another when Freddy asks him to.]

Mmmmphmmm. [Better to answer while on him actually. Larry makes a fist around the base of Freddy's cock that he's not working with his mouth to compensate. His other hand is rubbing his chest.

He's pulling up again.]

Wanna ride me?

[Lick. Lick. No, he's not moving from here yet. God though, he feels so fucking hot.]

[Oh fuck oh fuck that's good. Freddy has to make every effort not to give in and thrust into Larry's fist, Larry's mouth. He rolls his head along the back of the sofa only to look forward again. Seriously? You want to play that game Lawrence Dimick? When you have the greenhorn in the palm of your hand? Well okay.]

I want you.... [Take it slow Newendyke, don't let'im hear you shudder too much.] To jack me up on all fours...and pump my tank with everything you got.

[Oh yeah he still loves you, tough guy. No need to bring those sweeter words into dirty language though. Let them stay in the immaculate collection while he exercises a little daring erotica.]

Jackin' and pumpin' right now. [Though he knows exactly what the kid is aiming for. Larry has to move his hand away, fumbling almost clumsily with his effort to take that hand from his head to guide it to his chest, pulling lower. Come on man, he's so fucking woundup.

Work you real hard, grease my hands up to my elbows.

[Lick, liiiick.]

You make a real mess.

We're just...getting started.

[Oh all right the kid will indulge. He's reaching, reaching, reeeaaaching....touching, squeezing--wait what? Freddy pauses just long enough to look at the licking Lawrence Dimick, brow quirked. Those movements still give him a shiver but Freddy Newendyke here is a master at the art of finding a moment to make a wisecrack.]

You're not goin' elbow deep anywhere.

[You know what he means, Larry, but he is joking. Just don't get a rubber glove to outpsych the kid please.]

Uh hunnugh. [There's a lot of talking with his mouth full though Freddy probably won't mind. His breathing hitches when he gets a hold...then turns to laughter that he's got to slip off a little.]

You say that now. How do you know you won't like it?

[A kid for a kid...for the kid. The old man gets up off of the couch to kneel between Freddy's splayed legs. Two fists on his dick, working him up and down like he wants.]

[Gosh that throws him for a loop. At first he kind of looks dumbfounded because yeah, how does Freddy know he wouldn't like it? He stares.]

Shut up.

[Yep, that's the best comeback the kid can manage. Now back to business. He groans and groans, back arching and hips lifting into those big paws. Freddy shudders.] Oh fuck.

[The things you see in your travels across the country. No, the old man's never tried it but the receiving end looked like they were having a hell of a time.]

But I wanna open my mouth.

[Lips move over his shaft then lower to his balls. Paws keep moving, encouraging Freddy to fuck his that way.]

[Tell him a cross country story some other time. Not right now. Please. At least not a story like that. Freddy is thrusting against him though, hands and mouth all hot just the way he likes it. His own hand fists if not in that thick brown hair then on Larry's skin, almost to the point of bruising.]

You lookin'...to check if I'm good...for seconds?

[Keep it up and they'll have to run that risk either way. Of course it's not that much of a risk, Freddy here's been known to blow it again after a good ten or twenty minutes of rest.]

[Whenever it crosses his mind again. His thoughts are full of other things, all of them relating to Freddy.]

Are you?

[Sorry kid, however solid that grip is--fuck he loves it, bruises he'll wear with pride--Larry lifts his head.]

[The kid breathes out heavy and hard. He brings his other hand down to press against the old man's head....which he's guiding back over his cock.]

Oh yeah.

[He confesses before pushing his hips up again, aching to feel the heat of his mouth.]

That's all I needa know.

[Larry puts no resistance at all to this guiding. Jaw slack and eyes up at his face. This man is all yours, Newendyke. He's prepared to take whatever you can givce him.]

[He's a generous man, this Lawrence Dimick. Taking Freddy in the way he is, even as the kid twists his fingers into his hair to pull it, is a kindness. Christ he wasn't lying when he said he fucking loves him. One, two, three, it takes only two consecutive series of thrusts for the dirty blonde kid to start leaking precum.]

Oh shit. I'm gonna lose it. Right in your damn mouth.

[Honestly Newendyke, that seems to be the point. He's fucking writhing.]

[He doesn't mind the hair pulling. Might smart some, but there's enough pleasure to go with that pain.]

Mmmhmmmm.

[Any second, right down his throat. That's what he wants. Since the old man can't speak to make himself perfectly clear, his tongue curls under the cock in his mouth.]

Mother--

[The next thing Freddy says really isn't a word at all but a loud groaning noise that drowns out anything Lamont's dad has to say. Freddy tilts his head back to better pitch his hips forward into Larry's mouth, releasing everything he's got between those lips. Hell maybe even down his damn throat.]

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