orangetoughguy | log post II

Then what are you-? [Nevermind. No waiting. He sucks in a sharp breath and still holds onto the kid's head. There's an infomercial for some kind of cleaner oxy something or other that takes out about everything. No one is paying attention so it doesn't fucking matter.]

That taste good?

[Brown eyes are on Freddy as he goes to work. The marvel on his face can't be hidden. Treats like this make an old bear feel spoiled, something like a bird that gets more than his fill of fruit.]

Mmhuh.

[That's the only sound he can make as his tongue works around the head, just sucking it here and letting his fist do a slower pumping motion at the base. He's teasing first, that much must be clear. With a paw still on his hair maybe he's waiting for Larry to push his face down.

E-ee-e-e-ee-e-e. Fuck that bird can't be done with the papaya already. He pushes the rest of his mouth over the old man quickly.]

[For a second he thinks about the bird because it's making noise. They should check it's cage.

Later. Much later. He grunts and pulls at the kid's head with both hands down.]

Fuck.

[How is the kid sitting? Is he leaning over the old man enough so that he could be pawed at? Larry's not a selfish bear.]

Not too fast, there's more than enough. [Huff, huff. Oh man.]

[No, don't check its cage. In fact don't think about it at all. For once it's Freddy who prefers they ignore Sam...as long as the toucan doesn't sound distressed. The croaking is hardly a sound of distress. He's learned croaking means the toucan is pleased. Must be the papaya.]

Sure.

[Freddy replies after pulling his mouth high enough to speak, even look at Larry before his mouth purses tightly on his cockhead again. He's learning over on the couch but seated. Pawing's well within the realm of possibility and as a matter of fact he's spreading his knees to invite the old man to it.]

[The toucan's home sweet home is aaaall the way over there. By the window. So fucking far to even bother. It's a thought. A fleeting one at that that disappears when he watches Freddy slip back up to say that word then back to work.]

Remember your manners.

[Though being devoured like an animal ain't bad at all. With an invitation like that between the kid's knees how can a motherfucker refuse. First he only cups between his legs, rubbing and squeezing at the bulge he finds.]

Got something to share?

[Larry knows who he's talking to so really any kind of flippant retort on manners wouldn't be much of a surprise. Freddy has them when he has to be a gentleman but part of the charm of being with Lawrence Dimick is never having to worry about him complaining that he's hanging out in just his skivvies while eating kids pasta out of the can. Uh, right? No worries?]

Uh huh. [Mouth up again to lick at the head.] You want it? [Oh there's a little squirm for the rubbing.] S'all yours.

[Is that infomercial still on? Or has the oxy something whatever moved on to some guy going on about some piece of cloth that soaks up twelve times its own weight?]

[No worries. The only thing offensive about the kid hanging out in his skivvies eating pasta out of a can is that they do have clean dishes a good percent of the time and the microwave is perfectly functional. Cold pasta indeed. The kid has so much to learn. And that's not manners come to think of it. Just a refined taste issue. Lawrence Dimick is proud to take this kid out on the town to a five star restaurant. He carries himself well if not hesitantly. That's okay, it takes a man quite some fucking time to have the sort of swagger that Mr. White has. Even if Freddy never gets it right, he's always a gentleman in his own way. That's pretty fucking attractive.]

I want it alright. You and your questions, this is your house. You don't need to ask. You should know by now. [Verbal barbs. Nothing doing. Larry undoes one button then slowly unzips. There we go.] I want your cock anyway I can get it.

[Huh? Oh yeah. The TV. Yeah looks like it's just some towel. The way the salesman is going on about it, it's like you win the lottery.]

[For the record Freddy doesn't think his taste needs refining (unless it comes to doing Larry proud in a five star restaurant), his taste just needs some broadening of its horizons...or something. Look nothing's wrong with cold pasta and nothing's wrong with microwaving it when one feels like it either, he's just got to feel like it. He's also got to feel like doing the dishes later if he plans to use them. What a waste of efficient energy. Speaking of, his enthusiasm in sucking that cock wanes only so he can lift his head again and say some choice words.]

Yeah well if it's my house...then I do what I want. [Swallow. That paw feels so fucking good.] And I wanna ask questions.

[That's right, you tell him, Newendyke. Don't let him think he's won you over just by cupping your balls (he has). Again lips purse so that mouth can go on down. This time he's got both hands on Larry to work his shaft.]

[Fine then. Let the record show that Freddy requires some broadening of horizons. Same difference. He has a potential all over. The kid likes a good meal, well there are finely prepared meals that they have tries. There are more that would shame any pasta that comes out of a can. One thing is for sure, tastes for Spaghetti-Os, cereal and potato chips keep a man grounded. Freddy always knows exactly where he is from. Larry has the luxury and agony of a childhood all over the map. Maybe his way of always challenging the social rank system is to get what he believes he deserves. Why can't a blue collar man get a few fine things out of life? Why not indeed.

That's all well and good. It'll be worth thinking out when the old man has the time and brain power to think about more than cock.]

Are you gonna ask for my load then? Gonna say please?

[It's not there yet. He's got to get the kid wound up nice. Into his skivvies the paw goes. There's a grin on his face as he starts to pant.]

...You gonna play twenty questions now?

[A blue collar man can get a few fine things out of life, Freddy has nothing against that. In fact it's the fact that Lawrence Dimick started low and rose up high while still being down to earth that's part of what makes him so damn attractive. A man who dines on fine wines since he was a child, well, nothing against that either but let the record show the men he has met who fit the description don't do much for him. Therapists included.]

Ma-maybe. [To asking for his load. No, demanding it.] N-nope.

[Aw hell, did you just stutter Newendyke? Who are you the King of England? The way Larry handles his dick makes him fucking shudder. Instead of sucking on the old man he's got to breathe along him first, giving a lick here and there. Well Larry did ask him not to go too fast.]

[Shit like that an old bear needs to hear. Therapist types with their smug, overly elaborate ideas and their school book know how threaten to charm all types. Thank god the kid doesn't talk to him anymore...Right?]

Sounds like you better make up your mind, baby.

[Freddy's beautiful wound up and so close to the old man's cock. Even more beautiful right on it. Bet no therapist could give it to him like this. Larry holds the kid in his hand and strokes from the base up letting it be pressed against his stomach now and then.

Would it have been like this if the old man didn't go to town on his mouth to a Carlos Santana tune? The kid knew what he wanted deep down. And Larry, well, he wasn't oblivious just not letting himself believe. Would he have still made the first move? The mind wonders. Not that much though. It's so much better right now than it ever was and still getting better all the time.]

Too much for you to keep down?

[Well...shit like that a fox hound needs to hear.]

I...want you to come with me.

[Huff. There, he said it. No stuttering. And with a hint that paw's gonna have to work him if he wants his own dick back in the confines of the kid's hot mouth. Wound up and hard, it's not a big jump in logic to make, right?

As for how things could have turned out, well that's a hard one. It was a hard hard thing to admit to at the time, Freddy probably wouldn't have said anything had Larry not cornered him the way he did. They were already odd to begin with, not necessarily friends but...something odd. White's taken care of him from the start and Orange here never once tried to protest it. Not even now.]

Uh huh, wanna help me? [He kisses the tip again for good measure.]

Yeah. [Larry licks his lips and swallows. Words like that are as good as being hooded again. He can wait and work for it too.] Feels like you got more than enough waiting for me. [Emphasis being on the kid's balls. He'll really go to town now, strokes faster and more tightly curled fingers into a fist.]

There you go again.

[With the asking. Except he's not going to be a jackass and stop or anything.

Things turn out as they do for a reason. And Larry would like to believe that because it's meant to be. They started out a little more than partners somehow, then a little more than friends. He would have been an idiot to pass this by. No idiots here.]

Like my fist fucking you?

Mmmhuh.

[Freddy replies around Larry's cock. The way they're sitting thrusting up into hand or mouth is a little difficult but that just puts more emphasis on doing a fucking good job with said hand and mouth. The game is on.

Except. E-ee-e-e-e. Then some higher pitched chirping. Because the kid's more in the old man's lap he blindly searches for the remote to turn the TV up a little. The sounds from the box tend to distract the toucan too, for everyone's benefit.]

[That noise in particular grinds the old man's gears. Freddy has to get that at least. It's the particular pitch of it. Seems like it's always gotta be in times like this. What the fuck is the bird trying to do? Though wait. Maybe he's making more diamonds? Hard to say from here.]

That's it baby.

[Efforts are doubled the kid said come with him. The rough pad of Larry's thumb rubs over the tip before going hard into the pace again so that they're about even. The old man feels his balls start to tighten. No precum yet but it's can't be far at all. Just what the kid does.]

Work that mouth.

[As though he needs to be told. Dirty talk.

Now there's some lady in a turban saying she can tell fortunes. What is this channel? Shit.]

[If the sound did mean the toucan was making more diamonds would that lead to more papaya treats and this? Not that Freddy has any complaints about fucking the old man, but fucking to encourage the bird to make more jewels when the kid knows he won't? Too much.]

Mmm.

[Freddy sounds before tightening his mouth to take what he can of that whole shaft into it, his palm cradles those big balls. Saliva's starting to drip a little because fuck he has to loosen to groan around Larry. That paw is working him off just right. As for the TV, what? Man Larry he told you to put on something good. Guess that something good is gonna have to relate to his handywork instead.]

[Forty two years worth of pleasures of all kind are under Lawrence Dimick's belt. Getting free diamonds don't outrank hot and heavy action with Freddy Newendyke but they're highly competitive. If fucking lead to diamonds? Well that's a whole new ball game. Let him believe it's only the papaya.]

Mmmmm, fuck.

[There's an extra flavor now of precum. It mixes and rolls down between the seam of Freddy's lips and his own skin. Damn, he needs to move his fist faster. The kid said together.]

[Fucking leading to diamonds brings a whole different meaning to getting knocked up. Just saying.]

Shit, I'm tasting you baby.

[Freddy manages to say after lifting his mouth off, taking the precum with it. He licks his lips and tilts his green gaze up at Larry. A little shifting and he's managed to sort of thrust into that fist, trying to catch up with the old man. He lets that wet dick press to his cheek, his own palm giving shorter strokes at the base.] Come on, get me close.

[Hiss. That gaze narrows.]

[Consider one of them perpetually barefoot and pregnant forever if that was possible. Just saying.]

Lick it all up.

[Panting open mouthed he looks down at his wet cock against the kid's cheek. Freddy's own breath is almost like a light teasing touch.]

Need it more wet? [He pulls his paw away to give it a broad lick particularly at the thumb which goes straight to the head of the kid's dick. Strokes resume hard and heavy.] Don't you know how good you taste?

[Hell. No.]

Okay baby. [Freddy says, sounding like some sort of subservient slave boy which is everything far from the truth. He actually likes licking up that old man and his old man cum. Feeling his wetter thumb just makes him groan some more and curl tighter against Larry. Now his mouth hoods again to suck here, suck harder to match the increased speed of their fists.] Uh huh.

[That's sounded around his dick again, sort of a distracted response, but who can blame him? It doesn't take too long for the kid to start leaking too.]

Like that, baby. Yeah. You got it.

[Approving like the master of a subservient slave boy. Really though he's closer and closer to coming undone. It's so much more than that hard suction on his cock between those two lips. Being so close to him and being in control of the kid's ending in return, the instant reciprocation that comes so easy to them is terrific.

Larry rubs away the precum with his thumb again and is sure to keep his thrusts shorter and faster.]

You wanna come in my hand to gimme something to lick off too? I want your load.

[Can Mr. Master White tell the difference between his head bobbing up and down on his hard on and his head nodding to say 'Yes, I want you to lick that up.'? Does it even matter? Green eyes still narrowed are close to squeezing shut for the way this paw handles him so fucking well, like Larry may as well be jerking off his own dick. So fucking close.]

Shi--[Freddy manages to sound around the shaft. His thighs are shuddering. Tighten up Newendyke. His lips press and purse again, eager to fucking the old man with his mouth as good as any fist, or his ass. Over yonder the toucan continues to chirp but it's not overpowering, at the same time it means the bird doesn't drown out the sounds of letting your new life begin by calling 1-800-Get-Thin.]

[Brown eyes behold this attractive, shaking man. His hair is soft and damp with sweat in his paw that moves as if to help him fuck his face. It's all on Freddy though. All it once it hits him like a bucket of water.]

Yes! Goddamn!

[There he goes now. Hardly any warning. Larry honestly thought he could keep it together just a little bit longer. The pauses and the licking it was too much today. Besides. He fucking adores the talent of the kid's mouth it can be as good as any fist or his own ass. The load hopefully doesn't catch the kid by too much surprise For a moment he's stun and he has to grip the kid tight before remembering the kid needs his finish too.]

Come on, tough guy. Come on.

[BAM right in the face. Except not because his mouth is so tight on Lawrence Dimick what hits him is a hot load all over his tongue and down the back of his throat. The taste is nothing like his clone but Freddy wouldn't really have it any other way. This taste is Lawrence Dimick, cigarettes, liquor, and all. He's developed a palate for it...or maybe dining on unmicrowaved canned pasta has really done something to his taste buds. Either way would the old man complain? Didn't think so. Not only does he take it in the mouth, the kid fucking swallows it down. He's got to be able to groan without making a mess see? Mouth pulled off that cock he presses his cheek into Larry's thigh now, hot breathing and panting.]

Oh fuck. Fuck keep jerkin' me off, baby. That's it...fuck.

[A few more pumps and Freddy's going off like a fucking loaded gun, spilling all over that paw and between his fingers as his body writhes in such an unlikely cramped position.]

[Oh fucking hell is he swallowing? It's still a surprise in of itself. Larry licks his lips and attempts to not salivate all over himself as he watches that kid take it all down like he said he would. Sometimes talk is all talk... until it isn't. A fucking marvel. No complaints at fucking all out of this old man. The blood is still rushing in his ears but now's no time to stop. For being a master he's terribly obedient of his slave.]

Give it to me, Freddy. Fucking blow it.

[Sprawled like this could give someone a twinge or something. Larry works him as he comes, milking out every bit he can get. He's intent on returning the favor. Freddy happens to taste better dining on fine steak or canned processed pasta.]

log post II

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