orangetoughguy | log post II

[Educated and cultured are two things Freddy Newendyke is not. Well, not the same kind of education anyway. Larry on the other hand, the way the old man's taught him about filet mignon and cutlery for various stages of eating, that's cultured to this kid. No one has anything up on Freddy's cultured state when it comes to comic books though. Pity.]

Do you wanna fuck me now?

[He asks in low tones behind the old man's ear. The TV's got some athletic threeway going on with the one doing all the sitting doing it in ways Freddy here has no plans to achieve. He's just not flexible enough.]

[Anyone who likes Freddy though has good taste. Who wouldn't? He's smart, comic book cultured unlike any other. And come on, he may not be a typical handsome face he is still fucking attractive. In Larry's head, who wouldn't want to be up on that?]

Yes.

[Larry turns his head to have a taste of the kid.]

Recovered already?

[An easy grind, half a tease and to marvel at how great they fit.]

[Lips purse to steal a taste in kind. He groans between their mouths for the grinding movement which has to stop eventually so he can pull out. It's a slow aching moment complete with a hiss for the loss of tightness.]

Not yet...shit. Lemme cut you loose. Sit back and watch the TV.

[He suggests with all the smarm of...something smarmy. Meanwhile in the locker room, someone's getting wrapped all over that bench.]

[Make that two hisses. Is that how a glove feels?]

Not yet.

[He repeats it, trying to process it. Inhale, exhale.]

Careful now.

[Removing that tape. It's a nifty tactic. Larry's seen it maybe once before now that he thinks about it. But he had never done it before. Oh, the film keeps on a-rollin'.]

Gimme a couple minutes. Just a couple.

[Freddy waves his hand in promise. It's no thing. Floppy hair's not quite matted to his forehead but he is sweating which at least helps him to cut the tape off Larry carefully. No tugging on his hair here. Too tired to go anywhere else he just tosses the strip on the floor. Tissues to wipe off his dick get balled up...and dropped on the floor too.]

Don't jump me. [Yet. Or does don't mean do?]

[The old man feels fucking proud of himself for enduring this long. And Freddy looks terrific this side of wrecked. Sitting feels far more interesting than it should. Yeah, a couple minutes will be terrific not that he's asking for it.]

No jumping yet.

[Which doesn't mean no touching. Larry puts a hand on the kid's knee.]

Tell me, when do you watch these kinda movies?

[Diverting the attention a little. He leans to kiss Freddy's shoulder.]

When?

[Briefly those green eyes actually look surprised instead of mildly lazy from the aftermath of orgasm. When...Freddy shrugs once.] I dunno, when you're not home or you're asleep. [Er wait that sounds secretive.] Cause I don't wanna wake you up, you know?

[That kiss to his shoulder feels so fucking good.] When I start wonderin' Jesus fuckin' Christ what was I missing all this time?

[It's hard to say what 'all this time' is for Freddy Newendyke because it's still hard for him to admit the one thing these movies and his recent lifestyle have in common; no women.]

[No judging, it's only a question. Hell, Larry confessed to rubbing one out in the bathroom because of a fucking song. The kid is allowed.]

I dunno when I came to be such a hard sleeper. [He says when like there was any other way.]

There's plenty of time to make up. Plenty.

[The big paw at his knee rubs. The way he says it, the implication, it makes Larry keep on kissing at his shoulder, nothing pushy.]

Cause you're old.

[Freddy remarks in full good humor. Aside from being older Mr. White is very much like a bear in that respect. He sleeps hard but wake him up the wrong way and he's ready for some mauling. Those paws can be real sweet though, just like they are right now. The one on his knee gets the kid to part his thighs wider.]

Cause I'm young. [Plenty of time. He curls one arm around Larry's neck to draw him into a kiss.]

Not so old.

[Have a light pinch at your thigh for that, smart ass. But, that is pretty true. In his younger years Larry slept very lightly. Maybe now he knows he can rest at ease.]

Young enough. [Even though the spread of his thighs is inviting he'll wait for a clear green light. Larry invites himself into that skilled, snarky mouth.]

Hey!

[Have a flinch then a pout for that gesture. Fff. And the kid doesn't doubt for whatever reason the old man's body and mind are tuned into the sound of danger. You don't get to be an A Class felon without knowing how to sleep on a gun. The same thing goes for being a cop, really. Cops and crooks aren't supposed to be doing this. At all.]

Mm... [That's the sound of one mouth somehow slipping into the other.] Fuckin'. [Breathe. Kiss.] Beautiful.

[And the locker room boys have blown it all over the place. Up next is the backroom of a bar.] Get inside me. [To hell with getting hard, he's counting on the feeling of Larry's dick against his prostate to get him up.] Do anything...you want to me. Anything.

[People in love aren't supposed to be following the fucking rules anyway.]

God, do I love you. [Not because of these moments. Just because. Freddy knows that right? The old man plants a soft, sickeningly sweet peck to his mouth. He's wearing a smile like it's Christmas.]

Can't take the wait anymore?

[Larry reaches for the lube, and while he's at it he takes a nip at the opposite knee as he's leaning over.]

I thought you said no jumping. [Teasing, teasing. He slicks up his dick.] Lean over.

Nope.

[He knows, he knows, and Larry knows it's reciprocated in full. Right? Freddy Newendyke, a cop, the rat, wouldn't be living with him if it weren't true. That peck is far from sickeningly sweet to this kid. It's a lot like a spoonful of marshmallows in a bowl of cereal. The nip makes him shiver as his dick is already starting to swell again.]

Jump me. [He groans while getting down to all fours on the seats. Hey Freddy doesn't look all that different from the tender bending over the counter.] Fuck me into next week, old man.

[How's that for lip?]

[Even if he wasn't sure, Larry wouldn't mind saying it more frequently. Inside and outside of fucking. It's a dangerous phrase, but one that he means more and more each time. That's like a slice of pie to go with coffee. And the old man loves pie.]

Look at you all ready for me.

[Positioned at least. He lubes up his fingers, scissoring as he goes.]

Tense.

[His stubble bristles at Freddy's hip as he rests his cheek there while his fingers keep on moving. The man said now.]

[Those fingers and the stubble makes the kid shiver under him and around him. Better than a smooth woman's jaw any day. His back bows in a near steep curve like he's trying not to fuck Larry's fingers already.]

I'm achin' for it. I'm achin' for you, Larry.

[The more he says it the dirtier it sounds and Freddy fucking loves being so hung up on getting fucked by Lawrence Dimick. He loves this man.]

[Deeper, purposely rubbing at his prostate.]

Who the fuck am I to say no?

[Larry licks his lips and purposely taking a swipe at his skin. Fuck, he can't wait anymore either. His balls feel tight.]

Look out, baby. Here I come.

[Out slip those fingers. The slick head of his cock positions.]

[Whoa are those guys paddling the guy to make the tender tender? Get it? Yep, Freddy's not paying attention either. The rubbing, the licking, shit he may not look as hard as Larry but he is fucking begging the old man with his body.]

Gimme all you got, I'll take every bit'a you.

[Green eyes slide shut, he presses his forehead to the armrest and breathes low, relaxing to take Larry in as smoothly as possible. A whole fucking week's done wonders.]

[All that paddling and shit in the back of a bar? What kind of bars do they go do these fictional men?

Oh yeah. He can feel the difference, begging or no begging Mr. White is gonna take it slow and easy before he knows he can fuck into next week.]

Here we go. [Inch by inch, Larry sucks in each breath, it's taking more will power to not bust apart. He's held out for this long, Freddy needs to at least go for two.]

Jesus Christ, you're beautiful.

[Big hands move down his back across his hips then up his chest.]

[It's not exactly big budget porn okay? Fff. Now those freckled arms are stretched over the end of the couch, like this is going to somehow keep him from busting apart too with every inch Larry gives him. At such an achingly slow speed too, shit.]

God...you feel so fuckin' good, baby. So fuckin' good.

[Likewise, the only dick allowed to go in his ass. For now. Not that the movie's meant to give the other man ideas, but Freddy did say he was curious. A talk for another time.] Mmm.

[Those paws are so damn warm. He's grinding up against him.] Now?

Right now.

[A gruff exhale and the old man pulls back and lets it go. Nice and steady, and he grinds at the end of it.]

Am I getting you the right spot there?

[He's pretty fucking sure, but since they're being so communicative right now, why stop a good thing.]

Fuck.

[Two dicks are not meant for this ass. No way. Another set of hands on the job though, well, that's worth thinking over. Larry's found his pace, sweat is collecting on his skin where it had cooled before.]

You are--oh shit. You are.

[The kid almost sounds like he's groaning in pain for the way Larry works his prostate, but it's all fucking pleasure. One hand scrambles back almost haphazardly to anchor onto something, whether it's Larry's thick wrist or his thigh working hard against his ass. Anything.]

You make me feel so fucking good, Larry.

[He breathes in what could be mistaken for agony, which goes along well with the last week. Mr. White has just as much power to make him feel so fucking bad too. That's what you get when you love another person. He don't regret it.]

[Slam, slam skin to skin it is way more clear than the paddling from the movie. With the kid's hand on Larry's thigh he grinds deep.]

I love you, motherfucker.

[He leans over and takes a nip at his shoulder but also to take a look and be sure he's not hurting the poor man. Just be cause he says fuck him into next week doesn't mean he could be prepped right.]

You take it so well. Oh shit.

[Another week would be hell. Like it already hasn't been a walk in the park. He shivers and knows that he's probably leaking pre-cum.]

I love you, son of a bitch.

[Terms of endearment, these. His body jerks forward against the couch arm with every thrust. If he wasn't moving his face here and there the kid could get rug burn. Couch burn? Who the fuck cares he's doing alright.]

I need this.

[I need you. Freddy turns his head to brush his cheek against Larry, feeling him there by the pinch to his shoulder.]

[Whenever they head back to work, Larry wants them to be wearing evidence that some hard loving son of a gun had their way with him. Subtle or not so subtle evidence, so long as it isn't couch burn to the face.]

I got [huff, huff] what you need.

[He nuzzles back at him while he takes a grip on the kid's cock again.]

Come on, tough guy. Blow it again, like you said you would.

[And if the words aren't enough, he grinds right there.]

Uh huh. [Freddy sounds breathlessly against Larry...until he takes hold of his cock.] Oh fuck.

[Then he just has to nail him like that doesn't he? Fingers curl to dig into Larry's thigh while his other arm stretches out like he's struggling for fucking life. Writhing. Coming. Dying. Coming. What's the difference? Oh yeah instead of leaking blood everywhere it's semen.]

Fuck, Larry. Fuck! [He may as well be crying in his desperate attempt to both ride his cock and fuck his fist.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject