orangetoughguy | log post II

[As long as he gets to thoroughly fuck this freckled man, there is no losing at all.]

Beautiful. Keep at it. Get the whole fucking thing.

[More tugging, urging. He's fighting to keep his hips glued to the seat. Especially when his rump is getting a wonderful rubdown right now.]

Suck that dick.

[So what happens when Freddy slips his hand under the old man's balls to knead them while he sucks him down? His lips tighten as his mouth moves up and down, first as short strokes then as longer ones, almost taking him to the back of his throat.

The fact of the matter is...either Freddy has a small mouth or Larry has a larger than average dick. Whatever works.]

Oh fuck. [Gasp. Pant.] Like that, motherfucker. [His fingers clench and unclench. The kit kid is moving enough so that he doesn't have to.]

All of you's so damn tight.

[Larry curls almost in half.]

Freddy.

[The kit kid has no qualms over leaving a little bit of a mess either. See that saliva rolling down as he lifts his head up? Don't worry about the chair, he's using his fingers to spread that spit along Larry's skin before it can reach the recliner. His mouth purses tightly again when pulling his lips off the old man.]

You're not in my ass yet, how do you know?

[For emphasis he twists the tip of his tongue in and around the head while green eyes are looking up.]

[If the old man could come more than once in one sitting he'd gladly open fire right now something like the first time in high school when a pretty, giggly blonde showed her a one for. The blonde was a girl.]

Shit. [Recover, man. Recover.] I know. I wanna make it there.

[His saliva is warm then suddenly cold under Freddy's breath. One of those paws wander from his hair to Freddy's back to claw lightly.]

[Funny, they share the same kind of high school experience, except for Freddy he doesn't remember it or her with any kind of fondness in particular. She was okay.]

Alright, baby. You can make it there.

[This is what he should've been doing in high school, sucking dick and taking it in the ass. It's hard to admit. On the other hand Freddy doesn't completely regret high school either. He made some good friends and had a heck of a time in those years. Do all people start feeling this way after college? When they're approaching thirty? Did Larry? Freddy fills his palm with a bit of lube to jerk on that dick, making it extra slick.]

I'm gettin' on you, Larry. [Click and toss. Now this freckled young tough guy body is climbing up to mount him.]

Sit on it, cowboy. Take a ride.

[Urging even though he knows its coming. Oh man. The stroking up and down like it wasn't wet with Freddy's saliva already. He feels fucking slick. More so than usual.

Larry doesn't regret any hand job he got. Though he wishes that he had been more bold, more carefree. Once he did figure out that he was one tough motherfucker, he got it wherever he could. Sparingly from the hands of good friends. It was always is a mistake. Something that made the bond more desperate.

That wasn't sharing a home with anyone, revealing details about childhood and the good times and bad. Paws come to clutch between Freddy's ass and his thighs.]

Mmmmmmm.

[Face to face, he said, so that's what Lawrence Dimick gets. Green eyes slide near shut as he angles his cock before slowly, slowly pushing down on it. Honestly it's no big deal and it's an easy eventual slip because Freddy's become a fucking pro at it. Well, at least when it comes to Larry's dick. This one's the most experience he's had. Knees held tightly at the old man's sides, he sighs low when he feels the rest of him disappear up his ass. You are a total faggot, Newendyke.]

Shit...there, I got you.

[All of you. The recliner's at just the right incline to make riding Larry real easy on the knees. His elbows settle just above White's shoulders, wet fingers lacing behind his peppered head. Freddy looks fucking determined to fuck his fucking brains out.]

Pretty baby. [One lean forward and he's giving those tiny pecks on the face that they had begun with except these are more lingering and desperate.] Easy does it.

[Yet another super power. Freddy takes him like a champ on his own. He feels like a prized horse.]

Feel any different on my birthday? Any [he's got to groan, paws grip so tight that the flesh between his fingers bunch] older? It's still fuckable.

[Those kisses feel a little rough and firm on his skin, man mouth, just the way he likes it. Rocking only his hips back and forth makes him feel like he's riding a prized race horse. He's the goddamn jockey who's in partial control, making him go faster and faster, or faster and slower then faster again. Something like that.]

No...still hard. [Freddy echoes the groan with his own. He's leaning forward enough with an arch to his back to bring them chest to chest. He gasps.] Way fuckin' stiff.

[Nips and drags his teeth. Since he doesn't have a bridle he can be unruly like that. Now that the jockey has his pace he moves right along. The chair carries their rocking motion.]

I can't fucking help it. All the blood goes right to my dick if there's any chance I get to get all over you. [He can't keep clutching the kid's rump alone. The old man's balls feel tight. Any second now he knows he'll be releasing precum into Freddy's ass. The massaging chair is rolling up his back again. Larry moans and lets his head fall back against the headrest.]

[Teeth and other marks he can hide he freely welcomes to grace his skin, like those angels and damn freckles. His fingers unlace so Larry can rest back completely and to heighten the effect of those rolling pins Freddy firmly pushes back on a shoulder and his forehead. No throat clinging here, he hasn't forgotten, but he'll effectively fuck Lawrence Dimick between his ass and those massagers. If only the sales associate had any idea.]

My dick fucking grows for you too, old man. My balls get tight and my ass aches when I get horny and you're not around to fix me up.

[Dirty talk or true story? Maybe both? Definitely both. He uprights his posture, bringing their faces further apart from each other but these green eyes are still looking down, eager to soak in every expression Larry makes while his ass works his cock.]

[If freckles are from angels than bite marks and scratches gotta be from the polar opposite.]

Can't be away long.

[His mouth is open panting. The muscles in his face ripple and tense about his forehead and in his cheeks. It's not pain that's for damn sure.]

Don't want you to get too good at handling that on your own.

[A thick swallow. Fuck does he feel like dough. Larry's head drops and he shivers. Fuck he's leaking precum. Freddy's working him like a fucking pro.]

You're on fucking fire.

[Angels. Demons. Fire. In truth you can't get more human and carnal. A paw lets go to curl around his cock.]

You think my hand's... [Groan. Shit he feels fucking full.] Some kinda fuckin'--threat?

[A hitch of breath cuts through his own words as Freddy leans at the right angle to emphasize every press on his prostate. Keep it tight, Newendyke, and he'll blow it before you do. Don't be an easy fuck now. The kid licks at his own teeth before tilting down to bite at the old man's throat, nothing bloodletting, but definitely firm. He only clenches tighter at the mouth (among other places) when he feels Larry's hand on his dick.]

Mmmhuh.

[Freddy sounds, not willing to let the movement break his rhythm. He's still fucking riding the shit out of Lawrence Dimick's lap. Good thing this chair is sturdy, worth every rainbow penny.]

I fuckin' love whatever the fuck you do with your hands.

[Bias opinion? Maybe. What a bite. Larry gasps sharply. He's shaking even more when he's not moving with this amazing man. Rocking and rolling well, rocking in the chair and the rolling motion of the chair.]

God. [Moaning, desperate and grinding against the tightness. Here's the finish line for this prized horse. The old man hardly has a moment to even warn. Freddy might have suspected. His orgasm is hard to sum it up in only one word.]

[That's the ticket, he can feel Larry getting ready to blow whether he knows it or not. It takes a certain level of being in tune with someone else's body to understand, and Freddy Newendyke understands. The heat filling him doesn't come as a surprise at all but he still groans into the crook of Larry's neck when it happens. His body slows its up and down motion to a grinding one so as not to make too much of a mess on the other man's lap. After all a mess on his lap is one step closer to a mess on the recliner, and they just got this baby. Ruining it on the first night? Even Freddy can have some sense of decency.]

That's it baby, the whole thing. Gimme everything you got.

[Freddy huffs into Larry's ear. His hands relent in gripping the old man firmly to simply embrace him by the shoulders.]

Y'got me. Every fucking bit of me.

[Because that's what it feels like, all that pressure from his balls and insides flowing out. This is one of the many benefits of being involved with a Rocketeer is that a man gets free tickets to the atmosphere. Caught up in his finish his hand stops stroking the kid kit's cock. Going hard and fast leaves him feeling disconnected from his thoughts. Don't worry. He's coming back down to earth. It was a complete by surprise.]

Fucking hell.

[Or rather heaven. Larry breathlessly kisses Freddy's shoulder. A glance down to see that for dirty, rough, fast fucking in this chair it isn't such a mess at all.]

You treat me so well baby.

[Coming down from his high doesn't stop Freddy from mouthing his ear, his neck, back to his ear again before uttering.]

Happy forty-third, old man.

[Because 'birthday' seems too conventional, too suburban sweet. Putting in a number lets Larry know he knows it by factual evidence, and if the evidence is incorrect well he's free to tell him he's forty-two...or forty-four. Whichever. It doesn't change the fact that he's in his forties and Orange here, the kid, is still in his twenties. Late twenties though.]

Wanna jerk me off? [You know, as a 'thank you'.]

Happiest.

[One that an old crooked man could ever hope for. Different from any other. There's still a teen in there.]

Do I ever. [All that mouthing it makes his skin prickle right under his mouth. Again for the numberless time he thinks back to first watching them move as he wove a thread about his first big jaunt about crime. The most he could ever hope for remembering that for the rest of his life and seeing this man in every pair of green eyes he'd see. That itself was a gift.]

You like how it feels holding me and my load?

[That paw goes to work, stroking hard and fast.]

[Freddy moves between using his lips, teeth, and tongue on Larry. There won't be a bruise here on his neck but there's a red mark for now which only gets redder when he feels that paw on him again. He has to release this spot to speak.]

Uh huh. I love it...

[Spoken like a true homo, Newendyke. He fucking relishes the warm semen stuck in him, Larry's still hard dick up his ass. If this isn't gay he doesn't know what is. With a little effort Freddy manages to start rocking up and down again, not as fast or hard as before. It's just enough to stimulate him inside while a paw works him outside. Oh fuck he's gonna come.]

All over you? [The kid asks in shudders.]

[Whoever will see that red mark if it lasts through the night will know Mr. White is getting it and getting it good. The first few thrusts make him moan after each return.]

Yeah. Get it all over me. I wanna feel it in my hand and on my chest.

[His thick rough thumb rubs over the tip and traces up and down at the ridge. The chair is holding up beautifully with the abuse. It's a worthy member of their household.]

Okay.

[There it is, that submissive nearly concessionary tone of voice he uses when he's feeling like his body's given over to someone else's possession no matter how much Freddy is in control. No one else makes him feel this way quite like Lawrence Dimick. The kid's brow creases from exertion as the slow even pace because a little quicker and more erratic. He's not matching the motion of Larry's hand as he beads precum but floppy hair falls forward so he can press himself forehead to forehead with White. He did ask to be face to face. Green eyes shut when it comes, a hot load over thick fingers and spilling a bit on his belly. Freddy's gasps are shallow and reedy only to be swallowed by a rough groan.]

Fuck. That's it...oh fuck Larry.

[His tongue slips out to flick at the other man's lips. Not quite a kiss, he might accidentally bite him in the middle of his orgasm.]

[Even if that's not a kiss it takes his breath away. There's not much to go around this end of his finish. All he needs to do is show up. The kid is so talented he can fuck himself with Larry's piece. Forehead to forehead he can look into those beautiful candy apple eyes.]

So fucking hot. [He presses his tongue to Freddy's. The milking motion of his hand continues making sure that the other person attending the birthday party gets his fair fill of fun. In the stillness his hand strokes down his back to squeeze a cheek.]

[They must have some kind of all knowing bastard link because when Larry grabs him by the ass cheek Freddy grabs him by the face cheek. Those fingers are gripping him tightly, holding onto him green eyes to brown eyes as his orgasm starts to subside. The riding and thrusting motion slows with it until the kid's just settled in the old man's lap, cock still buried deep.]

Motherfucker... [Breathe, Newendyke.] Fuck, I'm all over you...

[Quite literally. His limbs are kind of sprawled around the guy and well, he's left an ample amount of identifying fluid evidence on his skin.,]

[He had no plans to look away. Those eyes have a hold on the old man anyway. Larry squeezes at his ass for the sheer pleasure of possession.]

Uh huh. [Pant, pant. Swallow.] I love it. Feels so good. [After a work day no less. Brown eyes smile as he leans forward again. His tongue is against Freddy's again and pushing farther between his lips. Sprawling limbs are begging to be soothed by paws even if they have evidence on them. Only evidence of a good party of two. The chair is still in gear. It's taken a back seat to Larry's attention.

There's no comparison to Mr. Orange after all. The salty slip of sweat and a bit of his own load don't alter the old man's liking of his flavor.]

Excellent gift.

log post II

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