orangetoughguy | log post II

Do I have socks big enough?

[On a bill like that? His feet aren't that big. They're sizable, enough to contend his cock or so he believes. No complaints yet. Speaking of which, it does stir with the power of Freddy's voice.]

Keep watchin' her. Because I'm gonna fuck your ass. Tell me what you want and how you want it. Want my fingers or you wanna dive on in?

[He's slowly peeling down his jeans and briefs too. Leaning this close he can take a nip at the kid's neck. And he's watching Barbie beyond. That's part of the game now. Neither of them are blind but they're not gonna look away.]

They're--pretty big. [He manages to shrug out with regards to a sock fitting Sam like a mask would a thief. Idle chatter really, almost as idle as Barbie's phone conversation.] I am watching her.

[Not that's not frustration for having to be reminded of the job at stake, that's the struggle between his brain and his body. He wants to look at Larry so bad but in blinding himself to what the old man is doing everything, every touch, feels emphasized.] Do whatever it fuckin' takes, Larry. Think I can make heel marks on the roof of the guy's car? [Rhetorical question, unless Larry really can get his legs that high...] Dive in.

[In his mind the kid's already concluded next time he's gonna throw Lawrence Dimick over the pool table, or a chair, or those things that bring the bowling balls back to you, for making him feel like such a prime piece of ass. Which he is, but it's the pretense of just being a prime piece of ass that gets to him. Freddy loves it.]

[Larry knows this body by touch and sight. This is a test of sight. Coarse hair, muscle, freckles, and scarring all around and about his chest and stomach.]

I think you can stretch that far. [Oh fuck he wants to see it. Except not now. No, he's not stroking his the kid's cock. His ass is bare against the soft, old leather and to the old man now who's taken to positioning him.]

One question before we go on. How many rounds you got in there? Huh? Enough to see just how flexible you really are?

[Because Larry knows that this not looking will last. Even if they're on a job...it's too much.

As for Barbie, she's finished with her cigarette. Still talking a bit longer. Wait. Wait. Ah hah. Off the phone now and heading on into the building. Damn good. Fucking lucky even.]

Think I can do it without kicking a hole through the roof?

[He's exaggerating...though Larry's particular way of fucking him has been known to evoke such near violent reactions from Freddy. Would he risk the company car to make the kid scream? Hmm. Decisions decisions.]

Aw man I dunno. [He whines, desperate to get fucked, especially when Barbie's going in alone.] She's gone inside with nobody. I dunno just--will you fuck me already?

[Is that the sound of impatience or desperation? Bare bottomed on the backseat again Freddy's taken back to his teenage years, hell a college year or two too. Except in those cases he was the one doing the hovering, the ready and waiting to be taking.]

[Two paws now grip at his waist to help him lift on up onto his lap. There's a hard cock there. They disappear to open the lube with as much noise as possible.]

We'll try anyway.

[The desperation, impatience or begging whatever it is keeps Larry hard if not harder. Kid said dive in right? Now that he's properly wet, paws grab him and hold him up and start easing.]

That better?

Try? [He asks while keeping his voice down low enough to remain on the down low.]--Oh shit.

[There we go. He's got to squeeze his eyes shut for a second--no wait Newendyke you have a job to do. Freddy manages to keep them narrowed on her, well her building anyway. So far still no activity so he allows himself a deep sigh from the feeling of Larry opening him up without any fingers. This isn't the first time they've done it in a car but the make and model of this one, the fact that they're on a job, and because it's Lawrence Dimick, somehow manage to roll up several elements of their complicated lives into one. Fuck it makes him hard and even harder to focus on the watch.]

B-better... [A swallow. His legs splay a bit but nowhere near the roof of the car.] Think the windows're gonna steam up?

[And what's that song starting up on the radio?]

Uh huh. Come on tough guy. I know you're game.

[After all, he's giving up a night at home. Larry never wants to let him down. Oh man. He's panting at Freddy's neck slowly letting his cock get engulfed. Oh wait. Was there a question? He was too busy watching that ass swallow him.]

Maybe a little.

[Larry leans as carefully as he can to crack at least one of the windows. The song that is playing starts out sounding like some Genesis song. He should know that one. Wait. It isn't Genesis.

His left hand goes to grip the underside of Freddy's thigh and lift it up to perch near the window, no it isn't the roof though it's a difference.]

I'm fuckin' game.

[A quick counter because honestly when is Freddy ever not game for Larry? He'd dare the old man to come up with a time. Oh but that panting on his neck feels so good...He shifts with that movement, heel kind of resting on the edge between door and glass. It's not gonna stay there long once Larry starts fucking him. Which hasn't happened yet has it? More and more he can feel himself settling better around the other man's cock while still feeling full but with each passing moment the kid grows a little more urgent. Hey is that Genesis?

Oh wait no. It's that group from down under. No complaints though.] C'mon big man. My body's ready for ya.

[Freddy eagerly (desperately) eggs him on.]

[No intelligent response yet but he grunts. Oh shit. There we go. That's the slip right? Larry wills himself to do an easy, experimental slide up then back and again.]

Feels ready to me. Mmm so fucking beautiful.

[The glass is going to fog. He's sure of it now by how he's having a hard time keeping restrained. It's the backseat, the pressure of keeping an eye out on his boss's girl. Now he's thinking of a different back seat and how he held this man's hand with just as much desperation. The connection is still fucking there.

Brown eyes shut and drift up oh yeah. Barbie's gone on into her apartment right? They see that hallway and she's in. Good. Give it what? Thirty minutes? Maybe an hour...then they'll call this job over.

Controlled movements. He's being controlled. As for the foot against the glass and door, the kid can do what he wants. Whatever feels good as long as they're fucking.]

What song's this?

[Cuz the guitar riff can't be beat.]

You know that one band? "I need you tonight"? Same guys, this one's a ballad. [Distracted answer. Can anyone blame him? That slide evokes a shallow hiss of pleasure. Yep that's the slip.] You ever--fuck another guy in the backseat?

[Or get fucked in the backseat? Now that's a thought he can't help but crave, the image of a younger Lawrence Dimick spreading it for some other man. Hopefully a decent nice sort. Look Freddy's got to ask just to verbally distinguish himself from the many girls who've given it up in the backseat of a car. Not Newendyke nope. He's no dame even though other men would speak otherwise of it. Larry knows the score there.]

I need you tonight.

[Decent ditty and a true sentiment if there ever was one.]

Uh [grunt] huh.

[Safe to say now they're fucking. He's moving faster, harder under the kid. Those aren't only pants at his neck now. Licks and kisses all over his collar, hair and ear.]

Know that jerk off I saw with [huff] his wife and kids? I was angry. Real, real angry. Went out and got fucked a few places with a few people just do do it. Women mostly. But men too. If I couldn't get a room, we'd find a spot, a car.

[Real down, dirty and frowned upon for more ways than one but what's a heartbroken fucker to care? So long ago. Now look where he is. They can never tear them apart.]

Jesus. [His arms have to go somewhere now that they're really moving so one goes around those bear shoulders while another takes hold of the back of the front seat.] That's it baby. Fuck me like you mean it.

[Like he loves him, but is it like he loves him when he really does love him? Well it's just a figure of speech really. Green eyes flick over to Larry again when he mentions the man out of prison. He remembers that. How old was he again? Wasn't it just out of his first time in the joint? Who would treat him so callously.] Yeah? You're--fuckin' lucky.

[Not to be with Freddy now or lucky to have gotten fucked so often. He really just means to be clean. When Dimick's file came up one of the remarks was how someone with such a history had managed to evade most of the vices that trip up career criminals or ultimately lead them to their graves. Freddy doubts wrapping up in prison was an option. In a sense this makes Freddy pretty fucking lucky too. He manages to hitch a leg up on the edge of the back dash. Still not the roof though. Hey are those headlights?]

H-hey hey, someone's comin'. [No it's not innuendo for once.]

I mean it, baby. [Gunning it each time. Aiming to get him in the right spot no matter how his legs are splayed and arranged though that's a fuckin' turn on to see in his peripheral.] I fuckin' mean it.

[As for luck, Dimick has dodged more than a few bullets. Illness and serious, full out lifetime sentences. This is excluding his luck finding a honest, loving man who happens to be wearing a badge for the LAPD. Oh fucking well.]

What do you see?

[He's gotta turn his head to see and just grind, anticipating the resume. Oh. There are those headlights. Decent car. He's already memorizing the make and model.]

[That thrust has him arching his back, pushing himself into Larry. Without a paw on his dick it's likely the kid can last longer which may be necessary for this stake out. The grinding still feels so fucking good. Those headlights coming by stop at the door to her building but whoever leaves the car doesn't turn it off. Weird.]

Unmarked car, younger guy, maybe 21, 6ft and 170.

[Seems a little thin for someone a gal like Barbie would want but who is Freddy to question a woman's taste? The guy goes around his car to the other side....only to grab a pizza box.]

False alarm. [Freddy grunts.]

[That paw misses his dick. It takes to grabbing onto the kid's nipples. No fucking tits here. The arching and pushing, that feels oh so good too.]

Good call, cowboy.

[Pulling out of the grinding motion he's right at it again.]

Like fuckin' in a car? We should [gulp] try and get a driver sometime, huh? Feel what it's like really movin'.

[Up goes the pizza man. Could be a ploy but the lights are on.]

[Tits or no tits his nipples are still a sensitive affair. They're hard from all the pawing there but still nothing compared to his dick. It's sticking straight up between them, having little room to bounce between Larry's stomach and his own.]

A driver h-huh? Think you can fuck me like a dog? Maybe sit in your lap?

[Would Larry's head make marks on the roof of the car? He's taller than Freddy that's for sure. Another squint and he can see Barbie's tipping the guy. Gotta give an update after all.] She tips.

[Finally they can focus on just the fucking again. Sorta. He keeps his eyes on the scene while trying to push back against Mr. White's thrusts.] Maybe I should--fuck your ass in a movin' car.

[He'll let up but not retreat. If he goes below the belly button he knows that he'll end up jacking that dick between them off.]

Don't think....I know. [Hard hot words for the occasion. They fuck more like rabbits or so it seems. Zero complaints. In fact, he feels accomplished keeping up so far with a kid like Freddy. Most of all keeping a kid like Freddy happy.]

[Oh yeah. This reliable motherfucker keeping eyes on the scene.]Guess she's a real lady huh? [Not a tramp like the two of em. Larry grips onto his ass now, helping the kid move on his dick.]

What kinda car, baby? How would you do it?

[That is not a no.]

[Rabbits maybe but without the litter.]

Depends. Maybe she's cheating--[Huff.] On his checkbook.

[If she's not banging someone on the side she could easily be banging him through the bank account. Freddy doesn't hate women, let's get that straight. He just happens to know women are like anyone else; if it's within their reach they might just skim off the top. If she's scorned she'll gouge that account for all its worth instead of putting a bullet in his back. In a way this makes her a real sharp lady.]

Aah--oh fuck, Larry. [Freddy breathes deeply, moving on that dick as much as that dick's moving in and out of him.] Pick up truck, right in front. No gears or anything to get in the way. Make you hang your head out the fuckin' window and groan like a tramp.

[That good enough for you, Lawrence Dimick?]

[And they're gonna stay without a litter. Thank god.]

Every woman's got 'er secrets they say.

[Larry doesn't believe that all of them are so complicated, that all of them have the vampy mystique that he adores. Some women are bitches, and the ones that aren't better than that, they're cunts. And this is from a man that loves women. The way Freddy talks about them sometimes, it's like the whole sex has done him a serious wrong. Except his mom. Except his sister. He and Mamba have that in common. The difference is that Mamba keeps on tryin'. Freddy's moved on to greener pastures.]

Oh God. [The fit in the man's ready body, the image to go right along with it.] I'd groan all for you. [Like he is right now. Larry's fingers are making indents into his flesh. Better lay up because he wants the man to be able to sit in public. Rather than going for his cock he tries to see how far that leg will comfortably go.] Would you take me on a bumpy road? A freeway?

[Pant, pant.]

[For the record the whole sex doing him wrong isn't the reason he's moved on to greener firmer pastures. He's always had a taste for that sort of field and men have been doing him wrong as long as women have. It's a separate issue, okay? But the thing about his mom and his sister is absolute truth. Those women can do no wrong period.]

Yeah, yeah I would. All the way. [Oh shit his toes are getting close to the roof, almost scraping but not quite.] All up and down the way to fuckin' Vegas.

[Huff huff puff. Freddy can feel mild stinging where Larry's fingertips claw. He's gonna have marks for a day. Real nice. Real fucking nice. He can feel pre-cum starting to seep from his cock--more headlights.] Some--someone else is comin'!

[That's a hiss to you Lawrence Dimick. Better make a decision quick, finish Freddy off or get the professional job done first.]

[Let the record show that Lawrence Dimick is aware that Freddy Newendyke has developed a taste for the greenery and a love to plow it. As for women, well, it is not the same. The old man knows. The separate issue is yet to be seen. It's not about preference, that's for sure. Nothing's that simple.]

All the way? Heh. You'd have to use every trick in the book to keep me lastin' the ride.

[Not like now. Oh he' sure he's gonna fuck the shit out of this man. The wet dab of precum on his skin would have been a greenlight but someone's comin'?]

Fucking-! [Gulp. Sorry kid. This is a work excursion. Larry stops and grinds, twisting to move so his own eyes can see.] Who the fuck-?

Cool I'd get to be creative.

[That's the last cocky remark he can fire off before whining from the way Larry just stops. Stops fucking cold. Sigh of course this is a real job but who can blame the kid for making that painful noise of brief displeasure. Stopping at this junction really leaves his whole fucking body on fire. Just wait, Newendyke. Just wait for it. He swallows.]

Black car. He's killin' the lights. Smaller than the first.

[Judging from the silhouette anyway this new guy is shorter, just as slim...bumpy. Wait what? When the driver steps out of the shadows it shows itself to be a woman with glossy black hair dressed in body hugging jacket and jeans.] False alarm. Looks like a friend.

Ain't you always?

[Fire is only the half of it. The old man is almost hurting to go from complete motion to circling his hips for a little relief.]

I see her.

[Bitch. Whore. Bad, bad timing.]

Might be here for goods. Some kind of a deal.

[Not yet. Except all he can think about his how perfect Freddy's body feels on the inside, how goddamn hard he is. This lady better be somethin'.]

Might be here for pizza.

[Meaning who cares let the women gossip over their pizza or something just start plowing his ass again please? Pretty please? Freddy is fucking dying here. He grinds with Larry, trying to maintain some semblance of that crazy action during the necessary stall. Up the lady goes, into the hallway, knocking on the door. Oh look they're talking. Whoop dee doo. Oh look they're--uh.....]

You're not gonna believe this. They're kissing.

[Not just friendly like on the cheek either.]

Wait? What? [Sorry, kiddo. He's twisting to try and see. Ooh man, maybe that's not a good idea. It only reminds him they're not fucking each other's brains out.]

Description?

[Those green eyes are sharper than his for the details. May as well know that she had a friend over. Yeah. Friend. Like they are friends who fuck, who love the ever loving shit out of one another so much that they pull this kind of a deal.]

Oh shit. Fuck it.

[Or him really. Hands under his thighs to grip firmly better to piston in and out of him.]

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