orangetoughguy | log post II

I'm sorry.

[And he means it. Desperate little pants are pushing upward, maybe brushing Freddy's face.]

It wasn't an easy decision.

[But he made it any way with zero conversation. Great job, Dimick.]

Muscled, flexible and moved somethin' like a snake. He was all tanned and had a big forehead.

[No hands? Not even to sit flat and chaste on his thighs?]

He shaved. [Everywhere the eye could see.]

Sorry huh?

[Does his panting smell like booze? At least the old man isn't drunk so that counts for something. Doesn't mean the kid's gonna stop with the movement, not even after the apology he knows is sincere. Larry's so fucking good to him. He climbs off his lap only to turn so his back is to him. Off goes his own shirt and then he's crouching dangerously close, his ass right where it should be if he wanted to sit on Larry's dick.]

Is that what you like, a smooth guy? [Unlike this freckled kid who's smooth only in some places.] Was he younger? Foreign?

[Off goes his belt.]

Real sorry.

[And getting sorrier that this has to prolong. The kid is too good at dragging the old man along.

There's booze on his breath and cocktail food in his stomach. Larry's wondering if he should fork over his whole wallet. Maybe that'll be better.]

No. [Eyes on his back, on his ass.] That's for women. [The old man likes a hard body unless that hard body wants to be a woman.]

Younger, brown eyes. I couldn't hear too well the place was so loud. Maybe he had an accent. All he told me was to relax and that it's not so bad.

[Right away he spins around to bring a foot up dangerously close to those balls. Freddy leans in to snatch Larry by his tie, both ends in his grasp to pull the man closer too. Snake-like yeah? Well, maybe more like a mongoose or something.]

How much younger.

[Hard to tell if Orange is just messing around or being serious huh?]

[Please don't crush his balls. Please don't crush his balls. He tries to clear his throat and act like it's nothing. Larry's not that good of an actor when his vitals are threatened.]

A few years. Looked about twenty.

[Meaning he could have been eighteen or seventeen for all the old man knew...but Larry figured twenty had to be the number to be there.]

Twenty. Twenty ain't even old enough to drink the shit they serve there.

[Off goes the foot. Them vitals are clear. Meanwhile though he's slipping this tie from Larry's neck to drape it over his own.]

Did you think about what you'd wanna do to him if you could? Be honest.

[Could be a trick question though his fingers are already working Larry's shirt open.]

I know. It was weird. The must have lax hiring criteria. Or maybe he needed the job real bad.

[Blah blah blah, sweet Jesus he's so relieved. His paw rubs over his forehead, there's sweat there.]

Grab him, throw him over my shoulder then bring him on home to you.

That small huh? Probably real tight if he's working at a ladies nudie bar.

[That's how they start before becoming cocksuckers for life. Larry might know a thing or two about that. He's looking down at the old man, considering what he should do about the whole thing. On one hand he can't blame him, circumstances and all, on the other hand the son of a bitch could have done something more than go off and tell him he'll be back later. Fff, throw him over his shoulder he says.]

Did you want to see him blow me, give each other a little sixty-nine before you choose who to fuck first, or did you want to see me pound the shit outta him?

Real skinny.

[And small.]

I dunno about the rest.

[Because he didn't check. Hands off, like they should be. Larry's trying to keep still and behave. He could pick up Freddy if he wanted to. Now wouldn't be a good time. There's something lighting his eyes that way.]

I wanted to have him blow you while I fuck you...or maybe you'd fuck him and I'd fuck you. Either way sharing was on my mind. Wished you were there.

[And he's not saying that because the kid might want to hear it.]

[Just hearing Larry talk about it makes his skin shiver....hey Newendyke you're supposed to be mad or at least stubborn or...something. Yeah. Also really don't pick him up, not right now, maybe not ever (that's a lie, he'd blow a load for getting hoisted over the old man's shoulder and carried to get his brains fucked out).]

Right. You were thinking about us the whole fuckin' time.

[He probably was, this sweet Mr. White, a real gentleman to think of him while still keeping a lady happy. A real gentleman to sit around while a young guy shakes his ass in his face and the ladies on the floor are dying for a piece of man. A real gentleman to remember this kid's been entertaining the idea of a party. Well, they won't be having that kind of party tonight.] Sit tight, Larry.

[See this tie? It's going around those bright brown eyes now.]

[If it were the two of them... could the two of them ever go in a City like this? Even if it was a joint they don't go to, even if they don't leave their names? That's a lot of ifs.]

I sure was thinking about you.

[Thinking about how strange it was to be that stimulated and have to fight it after having an outlet for so long.]

Freddy--?

[He doesn't shake the tie away but he tilts his head a bit trying to see if the kid is mad mad before he can't see anything..]

Don't peek, asshole.

[He pulls the fabric over wide enough to cover his sight. Seriously Lawrence Dimick where's the fun in knowing. Of course once the kid is out of sight he grins like a goddamn fox in a chicken coop. That's his old man, such a fucking gent and exercising will power like a professional, not that Freddy's a prude or anything. There's just some silent unspoken agreement at least they ask before they touch, right? Pretty fair. So is what Freddy's doing to him now fair? Eh.]

Get up.

[There's that commanding tone again, bordering the sort of voice you use on a perp before bending them over the side of a car. Larry's got experience with that, he can probably hear the subtle difference between poison and play, uh...right? Freddy hopes so, he's already working on removing the man's shirt and blazer. Rambo's still gunning in the background.]

[That voice cuts through the dark and the gunfire.]

Okay.

[Up he goes, with his shirt undone. The stiff one in his pants is noticeable by now. That's all this fox faced kid's fault, even with that pissed off tone he's taken up.]

You want me to do somethin'?

[If he were walking then he could at least grope to find out where the man is.]

No. Just stand there. Don't even touch yourself.

[Nope the erection didn't go unnoticed. He tosses the shirt and jacket aside, everything else but his damn pants. Those are staying on for now. Then Freddy shuts the movie off and steps back to just watch the man in silence.

Wouldn't it be hilarious if he stripped Larry down, turned everything off, slowly but surely, then left for a drink with the toucan? Freddy considers the potential cruelty he could inflict upon Larry. Aw just seeing the bear standing there not really knowing what to do melts him though.]

I oughta leave you with blue balls you know.

[Click. That's Freddy lighting a cigarette. Also have a hand on said balls, Lawrence Dimick.]

[The quiet buzzes in his ears. What'll happen next? He does think about what it would be like to be lift like this then burdened with the decision of whether or not to do something about it. A head turn one way and then another way. Nothing he can sense so far.

Ah. There's the smell of Marlboros.]

Don't.

[Larry sucks in a breath as his very neglected balls finally get attention.]

You wouldn't go an leave me like this, would you?

[Hips tilt right into that hand.]

I'm still thinking about it. I gotta know how it went down, how you wanted to share that kid with me, like bringing me a bone huh?

[Emphasis on bone by the way he rubs against Larry's.]

Did he ask you anything? Hell did she ask you anything? People around here act like they don't care what you put your cock in but they all wanna know what it is. [Now he's working Larry's belt off.] You're such a big fan of those bars what'd you think if I was moonlighting in one huh?

[Gosh Newendyke one question at a time.]

Equal shares, wouldn't touch it without you.

[The old man is almost shaking at that touch. Hot damn.]

Just asked me if I came here alone. Said no.

[And that was the truth. No lies here, kiddo.]

You? There?

[Dazzling before other people's eyes?]

...would you want to?

[His voice is dropping low like a growl.]

[Freddy snorts.] Hell no, I have a real job. And I don't dance.

[What a lie. Larry's seen him dancing in the kitchen half naked, sometimes completely naked. He may not be Diamond Dave or Prince or whatever when it comes to having slick moves but the kid doesn't not dance. And before he asks, getting screwed in front of an audience isn't the same thing.]

Why, would you come watch me? [Zip. There goes Larry's pants, boxers too.] Step outta them. [They're still having a conversation, Dimick.] So. Would you? Beat off any guy who puts his hands on me?

[Double meaning there.]

You could just strut around. That'd get people's attention.

[For the types like Larry Dimick or That Dick.]

How could I not come and watch you? [Uh oh. This is getting tricky now. Larry moves slowly, the coffee table isn't far. Goddamn it's so quiet. Feels even later in the day now.]

Nobody's supposed to touch the dancers. You bet I would.

[In both circumstances....yes. Now the old man is nude. The room is colder and smaller seeming.]

Are you hittin' on me?

[Rhetorical question...or is it? Freddy shirtless but still in his jeans presses back against Larry, denim-covered rear right on his hard cock. He reaches back to hook an arm over his neck while his cigarette dangles from his other hand. No need to accidentally burn the guy unless Larry's into that. He doubts it.]

At least you keep the rules in place. S'what bouncers do.

[The kid's swaying against him, dancing to silent music. See with the blindfold he can't see what a dork Freddy looks like, moving on him like some teenager in a dark club.] So you'd make him suck on me huh?

[When isn't the old man trying to get all over the kid? He can smell Freddy's skin. Would that touching thing count if he tried to crane his neck a little.

He moans at the feel of rough denim against his cock. It's always better with nothing between them.]

I try and play by the rules.

[Not enough to evade jails and tickets.]

Uh huh. Wouldn't even bother with names. We don't need his, he doesn't need ours. Think you'd look good.

[Like he's trying on something. Paws lift like they're going to touch on the kid but ghost.]

[That's the sound he wants to hear, that wanting moan, wanting but not doing anything to get it because Freddy's in control right now. Those paws come close to it and for a second he wonders if Larry might try to usurp him anyway. Hm nope doesn't seem like it, and the kid's not interested in giving him a window of opportunity.]

Smart man. [About the names, not the ghosting.] Suck me then get fucked by me huh? [Another hard grind.] Well since he's not here you're gonna have to do.

[Freddy turns around to push Larry down by the shoulders. Down to his knees as a matter of fact. Of course this all hinges on the old man playing along because he's a bear and bears don't go down that easily. So, please go down or something.]

[Gasp and another moan. The kid can really move it. Does he know that? The old man likes it when he dances because seems like no one else dances anymore. Like shits are too busy or cool.

Freddy can have the lead, he was the one who was left to dine on tacos on his own.]

Okay.

[Woah. Woah. He's caught on to what the kid wants. He goes down, nose bumping against Freddy's chest then naval. Paws gotta rest on his hips now for balance and so that he knows where he's gonna need to be.]

Watch the nose. [That's a role reversal right there.] Takin' lessons?

[From a kid who pulls the 'okay' bit when he's trying not to say 'please fuck me right now' and stuff. Zip, that's Freddy undoing his jeans completely. Off his hips they go and out comes that bright arc reactor in the front of his Iron Man briefs. He pushes that down under is balls to pull his hardening cock out. The tip brushes against Larry's cheek.]

So. Suck on it. Show me what you meant. [Note he's still smoking, Larry can probably smell it, like a fucking high roller.]

[Stealing his lines more like it. Is the old man so cruel (and fucking wonderful) to the kid? Hanging on the tightrope wire and trying not to fall to that hard end ain't easy.]

Maybe.

[Oh yeah he can smell his cigarette and that cock he's whipping out. Feeling it on his cheek now.]

I mean [lips move over the base, Larry slides his tongue up the side to the tip] like this [a broad lick before hooding that cock.]

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