orangetoughguy | log post II

Course he's got to compete with you. They were savin' all the better looks for you. [Favoritism right here.]

That kinda life wasn't for you. But I think you should work on trying to knock somebody up. Promise I won't make you stay no place.

[Kidding, kidding. That's one hell of a tender spot. Fathers are trick people to work with as it is. You care about them but they're so distant, opinionated. At least that's what Larry's got to work with. Maybe now is about time to leave that alone. There's been enough frustration in this house.]

You got outta there.

[Made something of himself too.]

[The whole thing about saving the looks for him just makes Freddy roll his eyes. Not in a mean way, mind, it's just the flattery is so obvious he can't help but make a face. Trust him though, it's endearing. Thinking on that other remark though, this one comes as something that could be a heavyweight.]

I wouldn't mind bein' a dad. [And just as quickly the weight and the potentially epic meaning behind it is gone. He gives Larry's sides a firm squeeze.] It's okay if you can't bear nothin' though.

[The kid eases back against the couch again.] I'm not sayin' he was an asshole or that it sucked cow balls livin' in that house either. I didn't know my dad wasn't from Fresno until I was older, he made it look like he'd always been there. [Sound familiar? Like a guy from Fresno who pretty much considers himself from Los Angeles now? No one but Larry's the wiser.] Real tricky kinda guy.

But yeah, I got outta there.

[As long as saying flattering shit still gets the same kind of disbelief and flattery, he'll keep doing it. That's part of the reward. Besides, the old man's pretty sure that it means something to him.]

You gotta let me keep on tryin'.

[Fool for love.]

I think it runs in the family. [The old man moves a bit so that he can fiddle with Freddy's belt.] My mother wasn't from Milwaukee, not originally. She grew up in New York and Jersey then moved to Wisconsin in high school then she met my pop. That was the story.

[One he knew that wasn't a secret. Weird thing to be keeping from Freddy. It sounds very familiar.]

You can.

[Freddy permits verbally while his fingertips rub up and down those thicker firm sides. He's one muscled bear and this kid doesn't think he got that from his mom's side at all. Hands down now as Larry moves up, these green eyes focus on the work he's executing upon his belt.]

So she was a city girl at heart?

[Cause anyone who considers themselves to be part of both had to cross the bridge frequently, or so this Californian thinks anyway.]

Now?

[Well not immediately now. They're still talking. The certainty of Freddy's touch even after the criticism given openly by Florence Newendyke. Then again, Larry didn't relay every single word.

Those wonderful, animated fingers make his insides go wild as they rove over where he wills. Clink of is belt and he holds both sides open as he undoes the button and zipper while he's at it. No rush.]

Uh huh. She always had to be busy. Then she got sick, I suppose.

[There's a shrug.]

I'm a restless kind of soul too.

[Instead of answering now or not the kid just continues to lie there letting the old man undo his jeans. Really, the slowness with which he does so kind of turns him on. Something savory. Touch him just right for the proper length of time and he might be ready to try now. What would your mom think, Newendyke? Except hah his mom got knocked up at a much younger age so she's not one to talk anyway.]

Did she like all the fine things too? Like filet mignon?

[Things Freddy never really ate until he met Lawrence Dimick. Regarding his restlessness...Orange here just nods.] You get all kindsa things done real well.

Her flavors were more toward clothes. Those are investments. Food you enjoy at taste then it's gone.

[Clothing apart he traces over the air below his belly button with the tips of his fingers then his mouth with pressed close lips.]

When times got hard she made a hobby of being thrifty. Thinking outside the box and all. [It's a way of life. Freddy had a wanderlust though maybe it is more of a displacement. He's a Los Angeles man at heart. It's attractive.]

[Freddy thinks about mentioning Larry's penchant for finery on occasion, fucking in the fitting room of some upscale department store rivaling a New York City Bergdorf (not that the kid even knows what BG is) comes to mind. Then he decides against it, just because that mouth is pressing on him so dangerously close. These green eyes are watching.]

Sounds fuckin' familiar to me...

[His voice is softer, a little more breathless, but his words ring true too. If there's anyone who knows how to think outside the box it's Lawrence Dimick. How many years of a life of crime compared to years spent in prison? And even then, behind bars, the old man really had to think hard and fight harder. Did he mention any of this to Ma Dimick while she was here?]

[Whether its' the fitting room of an upscale department store or an alley way it's about the involved parties. As far as a taste in men goes, Freddy is one sophisticated, dare we say rare kind. A collector's dream.]

We don't take kindly to boxes.

[Brown eyes meet his. He breathes onto his stomach. Now his fingers pull down the elastic band of his briefs. Nice and slow since he wasn't given an okay or a no.]

I don't like em to keep me down.

[Boxes. Jail. Yeah, that is something that Ma Dimick didn't like to know but did. How though? Now that Lawrence thinks about it, he didn't say it at all. What man reuniting with his mother would? He's kept on trucking. That's what Dimicks do.]

[He could never admit it aloud, maybe not even to Larry, but now that his palate's gotten the full extent of this particular flavor there's a voice in his head telling him don't ever look back don't ever look back. Really it's gotten easier for him to subconsciously accept he has no reason to and was always looking in the wrong place without any real heart in it.]

Nope.

[Eye to eye but not face to face, yet his skin still shivers from the warm breath he feels rolling off his belly. It's suspenseful. Would a lick to his own lips suffice in place of an okay?]

You look real good all hard up anyway. [Maybe that suffices too.]

[As long as those candy apple colored eyes are looking Larry's way, he's got no plans at all to disappoint him or let him down at all. Everyday he'll show him what he's made of. Making him crazy, making him scream, making him one happy motherfucker no matter the season because that is what makes this old man happy.]

I get hard up so fast when it comes to you.

[One more slip of fabric and Freddy's exposed. Now Dimick can liberally give more of those trailing kisses except they're more wet and longer as he works his way to the tip of his cock.]

Want to bury this in me baby?

[Oh hiss and fucking shiver. Those kisses make his back arch upward, steep and practically sculptural. His fingers reach out to thread through peppering brown hair.]

Prep me first.

[That's neither an okay nor a no again...but Larry surely has some kind of idea of what the kid means doesn't he? His fingers twist a little, exerting a minor clutch on the old man's hair. Is the time for talking over? Maybe they can finish this conversation later. Even thoughtful types like Freddy Newendyke succumb to this kind of intense treatment.]

[This means all the shots belong to Freddy Newendyke right here. Far be it from him to refuse or waste more time arguing. That's not what his mouth is for now.]

Okay.

[Down he goes, taking it immediately between his lips. It's a damn good thing that his mother can't see him now. The thought of her boy at it it with this young man was enough. Here's the thing though, Larry's not sorry. This is what he wants. Each slide has him bobbing his head.]

[He's not sorry for going down on this young man's cock but he wouldn't want to upset someone else he loves by throwing it in her face either. Freddy can empathize, he's not sorry for letting this old man take his dick in his mouth but he'd never lay it out on the table for his family if he knew they couldn't handle it either. Besides who seriously wants their family members peepin' in like a creeper?? Honestly.]

You're--[A hitch of breath.]--real good at that...

[Like it hasn't been said before, fff, but flattery for earlier flattery. The kid hasn't forgotten what this man said about his good looks.]

[Forgive a man for not reaching out to touch him at all? That was hard. Even laying beside the man at night there's some kind of physical contact of an arm thrown over his side, legs ending up tangled, someone being the pillow. With the eyes of his mother not far off, whether she was sleeping in that chair or staring the whole night through that isn't to be seen. Larry didn't want to drop his guard and be sorry for it the next day.

This shit is strictly for them anyway.]

It's what I do.

[That's what he says when he's able to pull off completely to pay the same kind of attention to the kid's balls. Licking one then the other. Only so much can fit into his mouth so he'll resume right back on his cock. Larry's hands rub up and down Freddy's thighs holding them apart. He'll do all the work with his mouth and neck right now.]

When'd you... [Grunt.] Have time....to practice?

[He exhales slow and steady despite the jump in his pulse. Fuck Larry's really good at this, at least the kid can say he learned from the cock fucking master. Again with the mild hair pulling, don't get him too close to the edge though if you want him hard enough for your ass, old man.]

I made time.

[He pulls off enough to only lick. Brown eyes are looking up at him as his hands slide up to his stomach again.]

Priorities.

[With his head up like that Freddy can't help but turn clutching into petting. Good Larry bear, good boy. Something like that, mildly patronizing and yet not. Just looking at him hovering over his hard up cock makes this kid shiver.]

You know how to set'em.

[Another lick of his lips.] Get the lube. I'll fuck you.

[That's funny because when he's with the kid he feels like he can be a good man for a murdering outlaw. This is what he wants. To be with this man. No matter what the fuck that means or what that says for morals or what's right or wrong, after all he hasn't given too much of a fuck about it. Why start now?]

Thank you, baby.

[Like a polite man that he is. So kind of Freddy to fuck him. Larry seals it with a kiss to get some of his saliva on his mouth to give a lick of his own. Then he'll pull away. There's lube to get. He stands up straight to move and rustle through some of the finery on their table. Comics, magazines, ash tray and cigarette boxes. Is that an action figure? Ah. There we go.]

Tell me how you want me.

[Before he hands it over. The old bear is still fully dressed but now that he's standing there's no way to hide that he's hard.]

[Lips purse to tighten that seal just a bit and when they separate they purse into a mild boyish frown. Don't whine, Newendyke, there's more to come.

Would Ma Dimick take kindly to there being lube on the coffee table like that? Honestly. When Larry lets up Freddy moves to get up, taking what's left of his clothes off with him. He also takes care not to stomp on an action figure or two. Aaaand flop back down on the couch, completely naked, completely hard. Now then, green eyes looking up and down that firm clothed body he's already considering the many ways to fuck. First though:]

Strip off. I wanna see all of you.

[Ma Dimick didn't like the clutter. She didn't keep an analytical eye there. Two men living together sleeping in the same bed...which Larry did because he needed to at least be that close...there's enough to see. Seeing Freddy sit there in the buff it makes it all worth it.]

Gonna turn the music on too?

[It's a tease but it doesn't surprise him one bit if it happens. The old man lifts up his shirt from the bottom hem up over his head at a moderate pace.]

Okay.

[You asked for it, Lawrence Dimick. While the old man's working his clothes the kid decides to reach for the stereo remote and pop that shit on. Who's on shuffle now? It sounds orchestral at first, distinctly a strings beginning. Hah, Freddy knows what this one is so it's gonna stay. He leans back to watch Larry peel, waiting to see if the other man is gonna recognize the tune and work with it.

Sailin' away on the crest of a wave...it's like magic.]

[Rollin' and ridin' and slippin and sliding....it's magic fucking hell. It's gonna stay that way. The plain cotton tee drops to the floor. This kinda tune makes the old man sway a little to and fro. The belt is next slipping out one loop to the other.

Would Freddy ever go to a show like this? No ladies dancin'...they have those in Vegas. Some trip they'll take someday. Until then Larry will spoil him on this home grown talent. Or not. Belt undone.]

Will you be needing this?

[Whether or not he's had more than his fair share of asking.]

[The swaying causes the kid to kind of snort over mild laughter. No really he's enjoying it, he just finds it funny too. Wouldn't the old man feel the same? These hands reach out to take the belt from him.]

Maybe. I like keepin' some options open.

[Freddy explains in a most casual manner. As for shows, well, he wouldn't oppose it one bit but the truth is he's never been to one so he'd probably be just a little shy. With Larry at his side though he can do anything.] Keep goin'.

[This is a good show.]

[Larry lets the leather slip from his fingers.]

Okay, cowboy.

[Even if they don't use it at all it's a thrill of a possibility.]

You got it.

[Fingers to the button and fly. Nice and slow though the rest of him is keeping up the not quite dancing motion. He'll turn to one side, peeling the denim to one side then the other.

He hadn't heard this song in so long.]

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