orangetoughguy | log post II

S'what you inspire outta me. Fucking wonderful.

[That's what the kid is. This too. Jumping him in a commode at the car wash. How long did he have this in mind?]

Baby. Oh fuck.

[There we go. All the way in now. Small victory because they're not fucking yet. The motion, steady and controlled feels good but not what it could be. Larry angles more against the thrusting.]

Fuck me like you know you want to.

[He throws a look over his shoulder catching a glimpse of that man in charge.]

[A couple hours. Maybe since he went to bed thinking he wasn't as kind to a faithful bear about the tricky toucan like a loyal dog could have been. Is this really quality time spent together though? If the coupe fits... Freddy exhales slow and steady again. Being buried this deep in Lawrence Dimick without fucking him yet is torture, but once he's in he knows he can go at him.]

Okay, Larry.

[Another kiss, this one low on the back of his neck before Freddy stands straighter to start thrusting. The first ones are solid but measured, deep without pulling too fast. The ones that follow are faster strokes, more rapid until he's falling into a rhythm.]

Like this, cowboy? Riding the fuckin' daylights outta you? [Huffing and puffing. Fucking Larry the way Larry fucks him is no easy task.]

[Yeah, well, he didn't see it coming. Not one little bit. This is way better than the Spiderman game. Far more action packed.]

Like that. Oh damn. Yeah. So good. [The lips at his neck for the brief moment, he'll have to fully enjoy them another time. Zero complaints. Larry tries to grind back on Freddy when he's buried in to the hilt.]

I love it like this. [And he's trying to keep it down and stay vocal for Freddy's enjoyment.] Fucking plowing me.

Fucking screwing the shit out of you.

[Freddy adds not as a correction but as further color to this excursion. His fingertips are digging into Larry's skin, making half-moons that don't cut through him but are certainly leaving marks. Each impact is like a shove forward however he takes care not to impact him so hard that his face has to hit the tiles, seeing as how Larry has no hands to guard his handsome profile. One, two, hard slams and then he's grinding flush up against the old man. The kid wraps a palm around his shaft to jerk.]

You take it so fuckin' good, Larry. Sweet ass.

[His other hand vacates the hip to pinch said ass. Both grips so to speak keep that rough and tough body completely full on his dick. If only he was tall enough to lift Larry onto the balls of his feet. Has he ever had a man do that to him? Freddy has, by this man right here, and he fucking loves it. Hm well wait a second, get creative Newendyke. He pulls out halfway while one foot goes up to plant down on the seat, leaving a most unsanitary shoe print.] I love you, baby.

[Leverage gained, he guns it right back into that ass, angled not just towards his prostate but also upward.]

So damn deep in there.

[Shaking him to the core like a jack hammer. Larry feels like he's close enough to the tiles to make his breath fog over the black and white. Close but not that fucking close. Hot damn there's that hand around his cock.]

That dick in me--[no words from that at all just a grunt for how it feels. The old man is about to loudly protest what feels like a pull out. Those words are too sweet for the moment of feeling so bereft in the middle. Wait. Nevermind. Back on in and up and--] Oh God!

[This grown man's body is fucking shaking with strain to stay against that. Right up on the balls of his feet in fact. If he could brace himself on the wall to push back harder he would in a heartbeat. Precum is the kid's fingers. How can it not at this point?]

Like that. Shit, you're gonna make me fucking come in no time. Can't help it with you all big and in so deep.

[Big? So deep? If this kid had a fucking tail it'd be wagging right now. Shit don't let him notice (for too long) your willingness to please and get a treat out of it, Newendyke. Freddy shakes his head like he's trying to get floppy locks out of his yes.]

That's the point, old man. [Huff puff.] Make you come right in the palm of my fuckin' hand.

[He's on the balls of his feet. Fucking good show, Newendyke, now keep him there. The exertion's making Freddy's forehead bead with sweat. If the commode were colder his breath would be misting along Lawrence Dimick's back. Fucking hard thrusts back here, he doesn't know how much longer he can go on without making Larry come first. That fist pumps faster over his cock, concentrating on the head. Come on, old man. Freddy had a head start, literally but he's got something to prove too. Larry has to come first or his pride'll be in pieces.]

[Pant, pant, pant. It's echoing in here, isn't it? Some boy group are crooning a hit about a fella and his black denium trousers and motorcycle boots. Was it louder in the hallway? Too many things to worry about that aren't how the tip of his cock feels or how Freddy's feel against his prostate. ...Things that do not matter.]

I'm gonna goddammit I'm gonna.

[So close. He's grinding back at the sharp angle with his head down and ass up while he's standing just so. The more the kid's had moves it feels like the more wet it comes.]

Bout there. Fuck.

[Larry doesn't quite have an eagle on his back but whatever Freddy is it's predatory. Still however this isn't working. Well it is, but it isn't working the way it should, ideally. Whoa Newendyke when did this become a competition? A fucking race? Damn right it is. Without thinking twice Freddy lets go of Larry's hip to grab him by the hair. He pulls the old man's head back firmly yet not too far, just enough to form a beautiful curve in his spine. His hips are still pushing, still fucking that tight ass, and his fist is still desperately trying to milk that load out. Now it's Freddy who's leaking.]

Shit Larry don't dry up on me.

[He threatens. Begs. Threatens. ...Begs. At least the kid's got agility on his side, he maintains his balance easily while still thrusting in and out of the guy.]

[No, he sure doesn't. He's got a tattoo sure. It isn't a heart proclaiming love to anyone. Maybe it's because he's the private type but there's no need for a permanent ink marking to relay who in this wide world he loves. He lets this man lure him into the commode of an establishment, tape him to the piping and ravage him.

The shifting of hands and positioning, hot damn. He's pulled into it willingly. The angle and rough touch are just the ticket.]

Gonna get real tight 'round you.

[That's about all the warning that Mr. Orange in charge is going to get. His already tight hold clenches as the old man unloads into that animated hand. Larry's gone. Maybe from the angle he's pulling at Freddy can see his eyes roll into his head as the old man breaks out into shivers. Knees lock to ensure he won't slip and chip a tooth. His mouth hangs open to groan as softly as he can manage.]

[Where ink is concerned Freddy would never ask for Larry to scribe his name or color or some symbol of him to join the wildcat. That's just not the Newendyke way. Similarly Larry ought to not have the same expectations; the kid's only markings are freckles and scars which have done him well so far. Why change it?]

Fuck I feel it.

[Groan. That is tight. Then his breath hitches and it's almost like his dick is caught in the constriction. Actually it is which puts a stop to Freddy's thrusting. Carwash commode sex isn't worth an injury. Green eyes catch a flick of brown ones. His fist is still jerking but the one in his hair releases eventually to curl his arm around the other man's waist, practically embracing him.] That's it baby, gimme what you got.

[Some of it he feels dripping between his knuckles. The rest flicks on the john, in the water. Nothing doing, it's just a carwash commode.]

[To be honest how much more binding and significant can a tattoo be compared to matching gunshot wounds? Those will age with them. No matter where they go or what they do, those scars will be there. They shouldn't change a thing.]

Jesus.... [He hisses and attempts to grind back. The real kicker is that fist milking every bit out. He sees the water in the bowl below ripple. Hard straight shot besides what can't help but stick to the skin of the hand that made it happen. If Larry could he'd grab a hand full of Freddy's blonde brown hair rather than the cool piping. The weight of an embrace is so fucking sweet for a rushed, hard screwing.]

Fuck baby [huff he's trying to catch his breath now] ...I love you.

[Definitely true. Those scars will be there until the day Freddy dies, both gunshot wounds and both attained in such a short amount of time. It's kind of a miracle how he survived and ever under the wing of one Mr. White. From holding hands in the backseat to this? Who needs a tattoo.]

Uh huh. [As intense as coming back from the dead ain't it? That's the dirty thought running through his mind. If only his childhood church knew.] Motherfuckin' beautiful.

[He said the words. Those unnecessary yet coveted words. The kid tightens his hold around the old man's waist to turn that grinding back into fucking. Erratic hard fucking that only a man who can honestly say they love him deserves. It doesn't take more than a handful of shakes and shivers and slams before Freddy's writhing behind Larry, filling him up as promised.] Shit Larry.

That's it. Mmmmmmm. Don't hold back, I want it all.

[In a perfect world, the old man would be there as long as Freddy has his scars. That's never something he'll say. That would be a sure fire jinx.

Larry swallows. He doesn't know what it's like to come back from the dead but he knows intense. This is it. He doesn't whine but he pulls at the binds wanting so bad to hold him.]

Keep going.

[A jinx maybe but Freddy would be a liar if he said he didn't want that too, want for Larry to be around him as long as possible. A fuckin' jinx is what saying that aloud would be but not saying anything at all has had its bumps on the road too. Now's not the time though, the kid's too enthralled unloading in the old man. Does Larry love it as much as Freddy does? He does think about that from time to time. A hand smacks that rear firmly on one last slam, burying himself deep in the other man's body to grind with him.]

Fuck...fuck Larry.

[He's breathing hot over his back again. Fingertips dig at the peak of his writhing then soften when his orgasm subsides. Freddy presses a kiss to his shoulder.] You're so... [Breathe.] Fuckin' beautiful... [And I'm so fuckin' lucky. Don't jinx it Newendyke.] Larry...

[One swallow and Freddy's getting a pocket blade out to cut Larry loose. While still in him.]

[Oof! That's hard. It makes his skin sting. Oh fuck that grind gets him right there. The old man rides right on through it feeling the hot load rest inside of him. It makes him so fucking proud of the kid. That cherry is long gone.]

Handsome cowboy.

[His skin under Freddy's breath floods in goosebumps.]

Tryin' to break my back?

[This bear's voice is soft and rough. He couldn't be more happy about it. What's this? Hands cut free he reaches back to hold one arm at Freddy's waist. The other reaches up into his hair.]

You think so?

[All freckled and big nosed, not that Freddy is fishing for compliments of course. He just fucked Lawrence Dimick up the ass and that sounds like a rare privilege to have and to hold. Cut loose he's free to rub and be rubbed, floppy hair going a little awry.]

You're way stronger than that, baby.

[A compliment for a compliment. Huff puff. That's the fuckin' truth, he couldn't break Larry's back if he tried could he? His heart on the other hand...not that the kid would ever want to do such a thing. He grinds a little slower but no less flush up against him.] Way stronger.

I know so. [A head tilt lets him press his cheek against that long character filled nose. His paw is mussing and soothing the floppy hair on Freddy's head. They'll definitely have to straighten up before venturing out. The Miracles are singing about really having a hold.]

You give it to me hard enough though. [Still holding onto the kid he sighs out with the grinding. It rubs the right way.] To do some damage I mean. [Because Freddy's a fucking super hero. Slow and lazy now his paw with the wild cat moves to grip the kid's firm ass.] I love how you feel in there.

Edited 2011-04-29 10:31 (UTC)

[The sound of Smokey's voice filters through just enough for Freddy to recognize the tune too. He wasn't even born yet. Lips purse to brush against Larry's skin, like he's almost nuzzling the man. Actually he is.]

Good. Wouldn't wanna disappoint you.

[His tone is flippant but his sincerity is genuine. That paw only makes Freddy want to wag his invisible tail even more. Eventually though he's got to pull out.] Can you handle losing it, baby?

[Not yet but soon, not for as long as Larry still wants to feel him.]

[Old things can last though enough for young folks to appreciate. Lips on his skin, kiss or no kiss, he loves the long snout of this fox-like dog. No other man or woman for that matter can feel as fucking adored by this man. Lawrence Dimick hit the jackpot.]

Can you?

[Impossible.]

I gotta. Can't go walkin' around like this at work. [A brief bark of a laugh.] Mmmm. [Okay he'll release Freddy's ass but takes his arm to position to grasp is hand and put a few of his fingers into the old man's mouth so he can be full at both ends for a few moments.]

[What kind of question is that? Fff just for his quip he ought to stick it to Larry all over again. He loves the old man's sharp mouth.]

I'm gonna have to try.

[Freddy counters in return followed by a cool shrug because he is one cool dog. The way Larry puts his fingers in his mouth though, that just makes him adoring all over again (not to say he ever stopped adoring Mr. White). Freddy works them in and out, short strokes to simulate the motion without the part. If only he had a clone.] I'm pulling out, tough guy.

[The kid leans away, slowly but surely, green eyes narrowing for the constriction that goes with it until its gone. His fingers stay in that mouth though.]

[He briefly thinks about what it would be like to have a clone. Would he still be able to take not one but two versions of the kid on? Pride affirms that he could. Nicotine stains add a twinge of flavor to the old man's tongue as he sticks it between Freddy's pointer and middle fingers. About time they part or else. Larry gives a nod.]

Nmmmm.

[Now that his body goes back into place he can privately marvel at how Mr. Orange went right at it. All that is in the old man now are those fingers that he slowly let slip out.]

Filled me right up.

[As though he is the car. The coup may be drying about now.]

[Two Freddy Newendykes could be too much for this world or any world, one too many Oranges piping up for comics and eating cans of spaghettios. More than likely a clone of him could never get as much work done as a clone of Lawrence Dimick. Just for this purpose though, well, there would be double the creativity. That's for sure.]

That's what you're good for.

[Freddy dares to say as he takes his fingers back only to pull his jeans up (without fastening them) then fish out a cigarette. Yeah he's playing up that role, the rough trade hustler. It's okay because Mr. White knows better, doesn't he? Freddy fucking adores him.]

[Two Newendykes would break an old mans back. Or he would trying to handle the double dose. Things are as they are for a reason. While his back isn't broken there's a distinct feeling of strain. Nothing serious. Only a firm reminder of what it's like to have someone go to town on you.]

Can't let it go to waste now, can you?

[As its happening, sometimes that's what he feels like. And that ain't bad. Larry pulls his own jeans back up. He'll peel away any remainder of tape from his wrists drinking in the kid standing before him, pants open and cigarette danging from his mouth. Two steps and he's there to fasten him back into place. Since he's there he'll kiss at his throat and let him try to be indifferent.]

Hey maybe I'll knock you up.

[Freddy quips with the freshly lit cigarette dangling. Now they're even. Kind of. Larry sort of has a huge headstart on him when it comes to that but hey maybe Freddy's the kind of guy who's seldom but very concentrated. He exhales through his nose as the old man takes care of himself. Drinking in that sight too, two can play at that game--oh. Green eyes drop down to the fastening only to look up as Larry takes over his throat. Damn.

Cigarette pinched aside he gestures for him to claim his mouth instead. Trying to be indifferent with Lawrence Dimick is an uphill battle.]

Is that what you want?

[A laugh rumbles in his chest before he latches his mouth on what bits of skin can be found by pulling his collar this way and that. The second hand Marlboro smoke has become one of his favorite smells. Oh and taste too. His tongue isn't as lazy as the rest of him as it wanders into Freddy's. Slowly easing the zipper up because any other round should be later tonight. Backward he moves slowly now this time to pull out his comb to fix up Freddy that way.]

Want a piece of yourself in me for a few months? That's no nice walk in the park. Maybe we should start wrapping up. Can't keep tempting fate.

log post II

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