orangetoughguy | log post II

[The casual way he says it even though this is a thing makes him want to fuck him more. Larry will just have to enjoy right now to the fullest.]

Sure. [He hisses it out, which ruins the attempt at casual. The thumb, the pressure on his prostate that's all he needs. The body beneath Freddy tenses even more as he comes. It's been too long.]

Fucking hell!

Say it again.

[The words come out before he can even think twice. Something about riding this old man to orgasm drives him fucking wild. When he's down in Larry's place it's exactly how he wants the man to take care of him. It's only right Freddy return the favor. Milking the rest out of him isn't going to take much effort now that Larry's started writhing. It gives the kid the greenlight to start thrusting again. Harder and faster than before with another firm strike to that ass.]

Keep screamin'.

[He wants to hear more, the sounds he knows is gonna drive him to his own release.]

[Well he does call him, cowboy. Larry wants him to keep on riding like that, and hard. Being milked from the inside out he appreciates how for the Kid has come. No pun intended. It hasn't even been a year yet and he fucks him like a rodeo star.]

Keep on fuckin' me. [He calls it over his shoulder, straining to stay coherent.] I want your come in my ass. [Like that dirty talk kid?]

I will--I fuckin' will.

[He likes that dirty talk so much it almost makes him blush, except his face is already flush from all the exertion so who can tell the difference anyway? One, two, three. That third slam's the last he can give before Freddy's just grinding up against Larry, making sure he gets every fucking drop he's got to give. His other fingers come away wet and webbed along the old man's stomach as he curls over his back to kiss his shoulder. Well bite it first while he's writhing. Then kissing.]

Fuck. Fuck you're fantastic.

Gimme what you got, tough guy. [Grunt. Grunt. In effort, in his load. Whatever. Larry wants it all. It's part of the package of owning the kid, being owned. That's what he feels like right now, and there's nothing like it. He's full and warm on the inside, and his stomach is hot and sticky.]

Shit. [Those teeth. Oh man.]

[Larry's a bigger guy, so Freddy's weight on his back should be no thing, right? Cause that's how he feels right now even after unloading, like a lump of warmth just laying there on top of the tough guy. Still inside him too.]

Jesus Christ...

[Arms go snaking up and under Larry's firm biceps to bring his sticky fingers near his mouth. Don't worry, old man, misery loves company. Freddy cranes his neck to kiss him, the flavor of his orgasm between them.]

[Oof. Smaller, sure, but Freddy's a decent weight. One the old man treasures even though his shoulder will be sore tomorrow. If he moved he might pull out. That's the last thing he wants right now.]

So damn good.

[He licks what's offered up to him, filled up on both ends.]

Mmmmmmm.

[Once those fingers are clean he runs them through Larry's still thick brown hair. The color may be going at the temples but it ain't thinning.]

Real good, Larry.

[So...what were they arguing about again? Freddy steals another kiss. And another.]

[Is he even flexible enough to kiss back properly? He'll try.]

I'm not gonna argue.

[Larry grinds back only a little because he feels like tenderized meat.]

I know just what you are.

[In Larry's position Freddy would be, that's just the give and take of being built like a tank compared to being built like a rail gun. Okay not even that cause he's a shorter sort. Anyway.]

What's that? [He asks lazily.] I'm pulling outta you.

[The kid adds as a sort of warning before he slowly and carefully separates them. A flop's got him resting on his side now, still right up close next to the old man.]

[This young gun is generally more flexible anyway.]

Okay.

[Simple, ready agreement. He feels so damn free floating in his own skin. A rough exhale that ends in a slight hiss is the only sound he makes when they part. The arm that had been twisted back and gripped now flops over Freddy.]

Good game.

Yeah.

[That heavy arm on him feels so fucking good. Freddy can't help but shift forward for another kiss. And a smile.]

You ain't such a poor sport yourself.

[Freddy's skin feels hot, wet with sweat. It feels better than silk or leather and there's so much of it. He really holds up his end of the kiss.]

For a Brewers fan?

[There's a lick to Larry's lips for emphasis.]

For a Brewers fan.

log post II

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