orangetoughguy | log post II

[Fuck, the kid has let go with one of those hands to brace the counter's edge. His knees feel like they want to buckle under those paws.]

K-know what? [Huff. Puff. Oh.] How the fuck should I know?

[Another gasp. God his mouth and his fingers are fucking perfect, making music with his ready body and boy is Freddy ready.] You...gonna put more in me...tough guy?

[Three fingers together and their pressing together then spreading a few more times before aiming up at his prostate.

Birds sure don't do this.]

You [gulp] want me to try and fit more?

[With Sam watching?]

Damn, Cowboy.

[Short fast passes at his prostate now. One. Two. Three. Rest before three more. Even know the kid isn't holding to his face he keeps it close.]

[The angle against his prostate has the kid shivering now. Fuck that's good, fuck he's a professional of course he's fucking good. Again Freddy starts moving his hips only this time it's to ride those fingers, practically a paw, although...he wouldn't really want to try the whole paw thanks.]

Gotta tell ya... [Huff. Puff.] This is fuckin' weird.

[Messed up. He's getting fingered up the ass while a toucan does whatever toucans do when they're idling. It's only a fleeting thought though because the way Larry's playing him eclipses everything else.] Oh shit.

[Freddy doubts he can get off on those fingers but every pass they make has him doubting his original doubt. Only girls in highschool take it like this and half of them don't even get off. Oh fuck the thought of Larry taking him down as a teenager in the boys room just gets him hotter.]

[Woah. To watch him shake under his attention this up close and personal makes the old man feel particularly powerful. No young and clumsy gun could get a reaction like this, right?]

You sayin [lick, lick like he's an ice cream] you want me to stop now?

[Not without a solid no. Larry has had his hand up a few skirts with positive results, as far as men go well...he's not gonna say he hasn't been successful but it has been a combined effort. Not this has him curious. Could he get the kid off this way?]

Cat got your tongue, baby?

[Each lick gets a shuddering hiss out of the kid. Goddamn he's really trying his luck, this fucking old bastard, and Lady Luck really is on his side. Freddy shakes his head.]

Fuck no.

[That's a response to both questions actually. He tilts his head back, thighs still spread but tightening up from having to stand. Maybe Larry can feel that even sharper constriction around his fingers without his dick interfering like it would in other situations. Freddy's own fingertips rub into Larry's scalp.]

You're gonna make me come... [Groan. Oh shit he's leaking.]

[Damn he sure can constrict. Larry swallows. His own dick is feeling might snug and neglected. That's okay right now because this is about Freddy. Fuck, one of the larger reasons why he bought and tried the dye for the kid. A man's must look good for his baby. That's one of the things he grew up with. Though everyone thought that meant that his baby would be in heels and a tress and have her assets held in something higher than an A cup. Those are nice to have on your hands, no question. Except there's the rough touch of stubble, calloused hands and denim jeans and so much more.

Here is Lawrence Dimick on his knees again for a cop.]

Who says you can't? Not me. Gonna lose it right in my face? Huh?

[Even though he's licking. Once he feels muscles relax enough, this bear goes to town.]

[Tok tok. The bird's lost interest because they've been there for a little while now doing nothing particularly interesting to a toucan. Hop flap flap. Sam heads back out into the lower floor. Thank God.]

Can I?

[Oh yeah, he's asking this old man on his knees, cock neglected while he pours all his attention on the kid's and his ass. The cherry on top would be busting on his face, but only if he gets permission. That's how good a baby he is to his baby. Going to town however distracts him and again Freddy's arching and riding, played like a fucking guitar. So much for waiting on an answer, his fingers twist in Larry's hair again as he writhes, losing his load.]

Fuck, Larry!

[The reason why Larry can blow and fuck the kid so completely with his face and fingers is because the bird isn't on Freddy's shoulder still. That's too close. Critical, tiny marble eyes aren't trying to make sense of what part of anatomy the older male is trying to swallow. Not that way though bird. Hard, quick motions to Freddy's prostate with his fingers sure get the job done. They're not quite as thick and smooth as his cock.

He only makes one more lick then that's that. The kid's load is running down his chin, across his cheek and a portion on his mouth.]

Man oh man.

[Words are formed deliberately and carefully, trying not to have it all roll off. Fingers feel like they can't move.]

Oh shit man.

[There it is, all milked out of him and on the old man's face. God he looks good that way too. Freddy can barely stand, the edge has made a nice temporary red mark on his back. Better take those fingers out, Lawrence Dimick, because this kid is slowly slowly sloooowly sliding down to the floor. Then they'll be face to face, kind of.]

You're fuckin' crazy.

[Since it's so damn slow he does. Easy now. Boy, he doesn't want to hurt the damn kid. Though at this rate though, the man could use a break. Not now though. Not when he can make him come on his fingers. Larry pants and tries to keep his face tilted up so it doesn't get all over the place outside of his skin.]

That's your fault. I wasn't always like this.

Oh yeah? Tell me about it.

[Pant pant. At least Freddy helps Larry by grabbing some of the toilet paper to wipe the semen off his face. He'll get this spot on his chin with his own tongue though.]

I told you. I saw you in the bar and I thought to myself about what your voice would sound like when I had your cock in my mouth. Dirty shit like that. All on you.

[As though it has nothing to do with him or his tastes.]

Wasn't just that though. Not how it started. I didn't start by wanting you this much. I wanted to know you. Dunno where that came from.

[That lick is fine. He could purr even without complete satisfaction.]

So...you never finger-fucked a guy until he blew it all over your mug until me?

[The kid's got an ego to pump here although if he's not the first well he wouldn't mind nor would he be all too surprised. Larry has years and heaps of experience on him. He's flattered by those other words though, how he enchanted White with his bullshit commode story. It's water under the bridge these days, right?]

Want me to take care of that for you? [Orange points at White's crotch.]

Never til today. Some dick usually gets in the way.

[His own. And that's the truth. He can sit here now and enjoy his handiwork knowing full we'll he'll get what's coming to him.]

You're the one who's crazy if you think I'm gonna let you off so easy.

[Water under the bridge? No. Not entirely. It's still a head trip to look back on. Even the heist. How many clues where there that he didn't see?

....if they forget when they return to LA could he even remember or at least recognize what's familiar?]

[He refuses to believe they'll forget everything once they're back in LA. If they forget will he have to endure another beating under those paws when he tells them those three words?]

Okay so it's a surprise?

[Freddy quips because he's ready and willing right now but he can wait for whatever Larry has in mind. His call. Secretly the kid likes the idea of being jumped by the old man without warning, somewhere practically public, somewhere without a nosy bird.]

[It's an if. Larry refuses to believe that's where the chips are gonna fall. They've been through too much already. These paws were promised to never maul this foxhound again.]

You wanna take some pictures baby? Be a star?

[He's a small town kid from Fresno ain't he?]

Pictures? Me?

[He's curious now but it's true he's a small town-big city transplant. Pictures don't run in his blood, at least not yet. Freddy's not sure if he means photographs or films either.]

Uh huh. [A paw pats his thigh.]

Ones just for me.

[Something a little experimental. Seeing as the old man got him off with his fingers.]

Unless you wanna save that for next time and work me off with that hand of yours.

[The thought of having his picture taken like this both makes Freddy feel a little shy and unbearably horny. He might be able to get it up again if that's what the old man wants, but first...he'd like to take care of Larry.]

Just like that? Right off the street? I think you gotta book me first. How does next week sound? [He'll wet the palm of his hand with saliva in the meantime.] Pick me up anytime, take me anywhere.

[That is exactly how the old man wants him to feel. Exactly.]

Just like that. You got the look I want. Think you'd be impressed by my portfolio.

[All that photo jargon. Larry's heard it a time or two usually for the ladies.]

Next week. I'll check my appointments. [He he's hissing now watching but not with artistic intensity.]

Jerk me off like you did in the showers growin' up.

[What red blooded American boy didn't?]

Okay. Next week.

[Just thinking about it has the kid licking his lips, slowly from one corner to the next. He opens the old man's pants up with his fingers and draws him out like he's never handled that cock before. What red blooded American boy had an opportunity like this?]

Sit down, lean back. [Is Larry already hard? If not he's gonna make him so with a couple strokes.] I always worried I'd get caught. What woulda happened if I got caught with you?

Thursday? [The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes deepen as he watches that tongue as if he could see each pore. It could just be his imagination but it seems to zoom as though all that's pictured is that tongue. Back into real time.] Friday?

[He moves to lean against the cabinet below the sink which is now shut.]

Think that they would have been pretty [keep talking old man, shit he's just getting started] angry. Fine lookin' kid like you abusing himself.

[Abusing. Manipulating. That's what they called it when Lawrence Dimick was a kid. Oh boy, is he getting completely hard in no time.]

Whenever. Surprise me.

[That's a charitable answer for you, Lawrence Dimick. It's an invitation to jump him at will wherever whenever. Well, almost wherever whenever...taking pictures at the mechanic shop might be a bit risky. Anyway his hand is making a tighter fist now, up and down, giving another spit.]

I should've tried jerking off in the locker room showers.

[How's that for knowing the subject matter and his audience? Freddy never had the balls to do it but just imagining it, well maybe Larry actually has the experience.]

Okay baby.

[That'll give him time to buy a Polaroid camera. Those aren't connected to the network. So there shouldn't be any kind of a worry at all about those photos falling into the wrong hands.]

How would you have done it, huh? Try to get someone in on it? A football player?

[A big bear not yet a man with eager paws. Larry grunts.]

Fuck I bet you were good at it.

[A polaroid? That's smart thinking, old man. Freddy would have used his handheld network device only because that shit doesn't even exist where they come from yet. It's cool. On the other hand, polaroids are a lot more intimate and also a tiny bit dirty. Freddy Newendyke likes getting dirty with Lawrence Dimick.]

I'd start in a corner, get myself real worked up. I'm the last guy in there cause I don't want anybody to see right? But the star wide receiver comes back cause he forgot a Hustler tucked in his locker. He catches me red fuckin' handed and it freaks him out so bad he drops his book open to a spread of some Racquel Welch clone getting triple-fucked by the pool. The guy's getting off on that shit and he thinks I'm the weirdo? What a joke.

[Freddy manages to tell this story like he's having a cigarette instead of giving Larry a handjob.]

The real kicker is when he whips his own dick out and it's a pretty big one for a pretty big guy. He starts whacking off, he's trying to keep his eyes on her but I can feel him lookin' at me too. I know cause I got my eyes on him too, I'm thinkin' fuck man he's gonna beat the shit out of me any second. Mr. Wider Receiver walks over gettin' his shirt and pants wet, and the guy doesn't say a fucking word before he puts my hand on his cock. Did I say it's a fuckin' big cock?

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