orangetoughguy | log post II

Maybe if you were watching, on the sidelines you know, keepin' an eye out for anything that crosses the line.

[Two can play at that game. He starts cleaning out the magazine.] Nope. Nothing happened, I never got caught.

[A boyish grin goes here.]

[Now if that doesn't make a man hard. Larry licks his bottom lip slowly and swallows. Good play there, kid.]

I'd have to approve of this son of a gun to begin with. But, I'd be acting referee. [Not chaperon.]

So you were a regular Dennis the Menace.

I'll think about it. [Freddy says with a nudge to Larry's knee.] Naw, I was way cooler than Dennis the Menace.

[That done, he starts oiling up the pieces, assuming Larry has some of that laying around too.]

Me too. [Nudge, nuuudge. He's sitting up a little more now.]

None of his schemes involved porn at Christmas time either.

[There is. He was ready to go at it the best he could with a tender paw. Great hands on that man.]

How's your hand doin'?

[Look he was going to ask eventually, you should've known, Lawrence Dimick.]

It's mostly my pointer. The thing can move, just has a tendency to smart more than it should.

[Which is about as close to it hurts as he's gonna get. Tough guy, you know.]

Better than yesterday.

So how much can you do with it now?

[There's a point to this, honestly. And it doesn't all have to do with just the guns. He's starting to put this one back together.]

[For a moment he's going to explain. But maybe it's best to show. He slowly unravels the tape. Pointer and middle, are held upright. The middle finger curls with the rest of them the middle flexes with strain, like it's pulling a trigger very, very lightly.]

Anyway. I've got another hand.

[Seeing it doesn't sober up the kid but he can't let that poor paw go by without a slight frown either.] You got three other hands.

[He corrects Larry. Click click. Shtick. Click. Cha-chik. He's putting that gun together with only darting glances. It's as if his hands are moving on their own.]

[Since the tape isn't entirely shot, Larry reuses it.] I do, don't I? You gonna be my spares? It's a tough job.

[Scoot, scoot closer. He knows how a gun is put together. He does it all the time. Still, the kid has skill and he's got such a clear mastery and authority over this piece of machinery.]

How tough? What do your hands do that mine don't?

[He's asking and he's asking with no shame or any reason to move away from Larry. In that case, the two of them are now much closer together, enough that Freddy can lean his shoulder against Larry's.]

[Whether the kid leans or not the old man feels over his chest, over the cotton material.] You really gotta ask that? My fingers can be in you and around you at once. Yours can do the other clutching. And now that I'm thinking about it, we're dismissing mouths. They're damn useful too.

[Is he still working at that second piece? He's still watching.]

[Nope, he hasn't started working on that second gun yet. There's another firearm in the midst the kid is thinking about now.]

Yeah I do. I mean you got a point about mouths. [First gun down, Freddy's wiping his hands and making no effort to move on to the second one.] Okay take your piece out.

[Ask him what he means, Mr. White. Orange dares you.]

[Not that the old man wants to be over eager but fuck.]

Your mouth isn't something to forget. [Whatever Freddy wants, Freddy gets. The old man unzips is pants.] This one, right?

[It's asking, just not the same.] It's clean already. But I'm sure it's about loaded.

[That's the one. He smiles with satisfaction.]

You talk like I need some kinda warning. I'm not a fuckin' kid you know.

[That smile goes sly in seconds as Freddy reaches over to stroke said piece.]

[Make that two smiles. Both paws come up to frame his face.]

It don't matter how experienced you are. Figured I'd let you know what you're in for.

[He softly sighs at the first stroke.]

I've known that for a long time now.

[Freddy practically breathes against Larry before leaning into his mouth at the same time his grip tightens around his cock. The kid's other hand presses upon his shoulder, urging the old man to lean back and relax.]

How much do you know now?

[Oh, he likes that quite a bit. When Larry sucks in a breath, it makes a small vacuum between their lips. Works fine when he wants to push his tongue into Freddy's mouth. Lean back, okay. The uninjured hand wraps its fingers around the kid's forearm, feeling it flex as he moves.]

All. [Kiss.] The ins. [Kiss.] And outs.

[He accepts that tongue gladly, mouth parted to brush against it before tasting Larry's too. Chesterfields and chicken, maybe? His hand strokes faster as he sucks on the old man's tongue like it's the piece in his fist.]

Ins and [Kiss.] And outs. [Kiss.] I like that. [Why bother talking, really? His tongue laps here and there between the suction. He did have some chicken, not going to lie. But not too much. Larry slides his hand from Freddy's arm to his chest and down. We all know that he's loaded too.]

[He's got to part from that suction if he wants to talk because this kid is a talker.]

You gonna help me out there, tough guy? I got two hands you know. [Of course he's doing nothing to stop Larry from digging him out.]

[Talk talk talk. Larry moves is head enough to kiss at the kid's neck and behind his ear.]

I could have sworn you needed a license to carry a piece this heavy duty. [Oh yeah, he's taking Freddy out too.] And it's loaded. [Even if it isn't, he'll make sure it's going to be. Rubbing under tight close to the base then more loose as he pulls up. And repeat.]

[Oh that's nice. He tilts his head into that kissing like a dog would to a scratching hand.]

I got that license. [Is this treacherous territory again? It doesn't take long to get the kid hard. He rubs his thumb repeatedly over the tip of the old man's dick.] You're doin'...pretty good so far.

[Freddy's breathing falls a little shallow for those touches.]

[Brief drag of teeth in there somewhere. He smells like the shop, like gun oil, cigarettes and of course something that can only be chalked up to Freddy.]

I dunno if it's even legal on the streets. [The pitch of his voice even though it's soft tells the kid exactly what that touch is doing. He's not thinking too much on what he's saying right now.] Mmmm. I love your hands.

[Larry's paw tightens, moves faster. And he'll go back to kiss his mouth again. That other hand, the one out of commission grips at the man's leg.]

Oh I'm street legal...but I ain't no angel either. [He shivers in Larry's hold.] Guess you gotta think of me as an honest devil.

[He brushes his head against Larry again only to tilt it in time to meet that kiss. Mouths mash together firm and warm, wanting. He may as well be saying he loves Lawrence Dimick's entire body. Fortunately Freddy's hand is doing all the talking for him in that arena.]

Christ. [The kid manages to groan out into the old man's maw. He's thrusting a little now and moving his own hand in time.]

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