orangetoughguy | log post II

[Now who is digging for what?]

You gonna--gonna make me sorry for it?

[There we go, he's getting back a little of his cheek except now's a lousy time. Rocking with the chair and having the kid pound him just so--then pause.]

No, no fuckin' way. [Full and held down he can't see what's coming next. All he knows is that Freddy's practically throbbing on the inside while his own cock is laying between them. He hisses and bucks.] Not crazy like you...

[Does that answer Larry's question? Again the kid gives a sly smirk for how the old guy clearly wants him to keep going.]

Miss me goin' in and outta you already?

[If it weren't for the blindfold Larry could see how much effort it takes for Freddy not to give in and start fucking him again. He rubs light sweat off his brow.]

[Pant pant. The old man makes a tight noise at the back of his throat. He's practically aching for it.]

I know you do.

[Hopefully. Sweating bullets in this chair now. Larry tries to move the chair but the kid has the upper hand.]

C'mon. What are you waiting for?

[Cheeky to the end. Freddy pinches Larry's cheek, the one on his face this time, to emphasize the feeling.]

You're cute.

[Sarcasm. Finally off goes the blindfold so he can lean back up and stare down at the old man as his hips start moving again. It's a relentless rhythm with skin smacking skin to really make this tough guy sing.]

Opened up like a real hornball. [Gulp. Now the kid has to put in double the effort to maintain his swagger.]

[Cute? Cute. He tries to nip at those fingers punching his flesh. Suddenly there's light and he has to blink. No he's not tearing up. Just adjusting. Being about run through makes it harder, okay? The old man tilts his head back and swallows. He's trying not to yell. This is so much better than the skin joint. So much better.]

Oh God. Oh fuck.

[Precum wells at the tip of his cock that's bouncing with the movement.]

That-that all you got tough guy?

Look at you--you're just about...ready to cry.

[Huff huff. Freddy talks smack right back at him, referring to his cock of course. Now a flappy hand wraps around that thick shaft to pump it in time with his thrusts.]

Come on you old fuck. [He can feel his body mashing up against his balls.] Make a mess.

Fuck!

[Larry cranes his neck and it feels like it makes the whole rest of his body curl in. Everything feels so tight and constricted, controlled by the smirking amazing son of a bitch above him.]

Almost. There.

[Excuse him while he grits his teeth. He feels like he's fuckin' dying. Blue balled from the show and dragged along by Freddy the end is in sight.]

[If he could pick Larry up and pin his back to the floor he would but because he can't the chair will just have to do. Oof. The kid wets his lips, a little saliva escapes dropping on Larry's thigh, and pushes in deep again, shortening his strokes to really nail that prostate (it's good for an old man's health). His fingers work in circles around the tip of his cock.]

Now.

[Yeah, as if Freddy actually has the superpower to make Mr. White orgasm at the drop of a hat, or the turn of a fist, or the thrust of his own dick. Hm.]

[Is the kid so sure about that? He's got an excellent form of attack right there. The old bear is fucking shaking with each hit to his prostate. His eyes are squeezed shut with concentration on the feeling, right now he doesn't give a fuck he's on his back and spread open.]

Like that baby. [Huff puff. Oh God, is that saliva? It runs down his skin hotter than sweat, it makes him jolt. Brown eyes fly open and look up at him.]

T-there.

[And that's it. He blows his load all over that hand and his own big body. You can bet that he's constricting mighty tightly on the kid.]

Oh fuck.

[That tightness locks him in deep enough Freddy can only grind against Larry as he milks the rest of his load out. It's hot and he's already lamenting not being able to take it in his own mouth but the feeling's brief. There are other mouths to feed. The mess on his fingers promptly finds its way to Larry's mouth. Both ends.]

Suck on'em. [He shudders.]

[The old man is moaning, shivering and a wreck. Look at your handiwork, Freddy. Grinding doesn't help him catch his breath, his chest rises and falls rapidly.]

Gimme.

[His fingers and his load. His tongue slicks up over his fingertips like it's honey before taking them all in his mouth.]

Mmmm.

That's right baby. Eat'em up.

[His other hand settles stroking through Larry's hair, still thick in some places while starting to thin in others, brunette here and fading there. Fucking beautiful. Then Freddy takes a grip on his head for leverage, pinning him to the chair so his mouth stays full and his body goes nowhere. As if Larry would throw him off right now, right? Orange starts fucking him again, this time rougher and more erratic because he's no longer concerned with making the old man blow it first.]

Shit oh shit oh shit.

[His groan is loud, bordering a yell, when his hips smack against his ass over and over until he's unloading in Lawrence Dimick. No one else has the privilege.]

[His paws are free! One can clutch the kid and the other take a grip on the chair. Even though he's damn sure that he's not going to fall all this jerking and shoving makes him feel of balance.

Mr. White is moaning even with those fingers in his mouth. If all this prostate stimulation is for his benefit he'll be so fucking healthy. Freddy looks primal and savage, a regular tough guy. This is what draws his attention the most, he's not a slick, slim dancing boy. Chances are that dancing boy wouldn't have the balls to do this to the old man.

Oh God. There we go. That mess is all hot right up inside of him. Now he definitely feels full.]

Goddamn...

[For seconds he loses that tough guy act though to unravel in Lawrence Dimick. Nobody else makes Freddy Newendyke feel quite like this. And when it's over his hands fall from the old man's head to brush along his face, his torso, that firm (and well fed) stomach, then to his thighs where one hand delivers a hard stinging smack to his rear.]

Good boy.

[His smile is practically fox faced.]

[Contorted, full and hot he can lay there and look up at this man with pride. Larry lets those fingers slip on out of his mouth so he can pant open mouthed.]

Fuck, kid.

[Damn that smarts, and makes him tighten just a little.]

You wreck me.

[And he loves it.]

You love it. [The kid grins before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. So much for a 'punishment' huh.] That'll teach you.

[And another kiss, this time to his mouth. Now he's got most of his weight on the old man, acting lazy and not wanting to move even though he'll have to eventually.]

I learned my lesson.

[But isn't it better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Hard to say in this kind of a situation because...forgiveness is pretty fucking great.]

Know what I love?

[He'll tell him exactly with his mouth, tongue ready to launch the attack. Supporting the kid's weight ain't so bad. They are gonna have to come apart but Larry's proud of himself to be taking it. He tries to grind a little.]

What's that--[Oh. Oh. Hey what do you know Freddy loves that too. He parts his lips to take in his tongue, kiss deep and firm just like the fucking he just gave him.]

Mm. I see. [Freddy muffles between kisses. Is this the 'romance later' part? Lightly freckled arms circle the bear's torso.] Beep beep.

[No it's not a new safeword but it is a vocal alert he's gonna pull out of the guy. Shit even that makes him shiver and hiss.]

[Being near this man, being able to kiss them like they're in the movies even though they've got blood soaked lives and hands.]

Dammit.

[It's a tight, rushed word. Now he's all empty and yet full at the same time.]

Should have come home sooner.

It's what you get.

[Freddy remarks in an ever so flippant manner before he's moving Larry's legs off the arm rests to a normal sitting position. Then he's settling in the old man's lap to lounge against him. This is the fucking life.]

log post II

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