orangetoughguy | log post II

[Even if he wasn't sure, Larry wouldn't mind saying it more frequently. Inside and outside of fucking. It's a dangerous phrase, but one that he means more and more each time. That's like a slice of pie to go with coffee. And the old man loves pie.]

Look at you all ready for me.

[Positioned at least. He lubes up his fingers, scissoring as he goes.]

Tense.

[His stubble bristles at Freddy's hip as he rests his cheek there while his fingers keep on moving. The man said now.]

[Those fingers and the stubble makes the kid shiver under him and around him. Better than a smooth woman's jaw any day. His back bows in a near steep curve like he's trying not to fuck Larry's fingers already.]

I'm achin' for it. I'm achin' for you, Larry.

[The more he says it the dirtier it sounds and Freddy fucking loves being so hung up on getting fucked by Lawrence Dimick. He loves this man.]

[Deeper, purposely rubbing at his prostate.]

Who the fuck am I to say no?

[Larry licks his lips and purposely taking a swipe at his skin. Fuck, he can't wait anymore either. His balls feel tight.]

Look out, baby. Here I come.

[Out slip those fingers. The slick head of his cock positions.]

[Whoa are those guys paddling the guy to make the tender tender? Get it? Yep, Freddy's not paying attention either. The rubbing, the licking, shit he may not look as hard as Larry but he is fucking begging the old man with his body.]

Gimme all you got, I'll take every bit'a you.

[Green eyes slide shut, he presses his forehead to the armrest and breathes low, relaxing to take Larry in as smoothly as possible. A whole fucking week's done wonders.]

[All that paddling and shit in the back of a bar? What kind of bars do they go do these fictional men?

Oh yeah. He can feel the difference, begging or no begging Mr. White is gonna take it slow and easy before he knows he can fuck into next week.]

Here we go. [Inch by inch, Larry sucks in each breath, it's taking more will power to not bust apart. He's held out for this long, Freddy needs to at least go for two.]

Jesus Christ, you're beautiful.

[Big hands move down his back across his hips then up his chest.]

[It's not exactly big budget porn okay? Fff. Now those freckled arms are stretched over the end of the couch, like this is going to somehow keep him from busting apart too with every inch Larry gives him. At such an achingly slow speed too, shit.]

God...you feel so fuckin' good, baby. So fuckin' good.

[Likewise, the only dick allowed to go in his ass. For now. Not that the movie's meant to give the other man ideas, but Freddy did say he was curious. A talk for another time.] Mmm.

[Those paws are so damn warm. He's grinding up against him.] Now?

Right now.

[A gruff exhale and the old man pulls back and lets it go. Nice and steady, and he grinds at the end of it.]

Am I getting you the right spot there?

[He's pretty fucking sure, but since they're being so communicative right now, why stop a good thing.]

Fuck.

[Two dicks are not meant for this ass. No way. Another set of hands on the job though, well, that's worth thinking over. Larry's found his pace, sweat is collecting on his skin where it had cooled before.]

You are--oh shit. You are.

[The kid almost sounds like he's groaning in pain for the way Larry works his prostate, but it's all fucking pleasure. One hand scrambles back almost haphazardly to anchor onto something, whether it's Larry's thick wrist or his thigh working hard against his ass. Anything.]

You make me feel so fucking good, Larry.

[He breathes in what could be mistaken for agony, which goes along well with the last week. Mr. White has just as much power to make him feel so fucking bad too. That's what you get when you love another person. He don't regret it.]

[Slam, slam skin to skin it is way more clear than the paddling from the movie. With the kid's hand on Larry's thigh he grinds deep.]

I love you, motherfucker.

[He leans over and takes a nip at his shoulder but also to take a look and be sure he's not hurting the poor man. Just be cause he says fuck him into next week doesn't mean he could be prepped right.]

You take it so well. Oh shit.

[Another week would be hell. Like it already hasn't been a walk in the park. He shivers and knows that he's probably leaking pre-cum.]

I love you, son of a bitch.

[Terms of endearment, these. His body jerks forward against the couch arm with every thrust. If he wasn't moving his face here and there the kid could get rug burn. Couch burn? Who the fuck cares he's doing alright.]

I need this.

[I need you. Freddy turns his head to brush his cheek against Larry, feeling him there by the pinch to his shoulder.]

[Whenever they head back to work, Larry wants them to be wearing evidence that some hard loving son of a gun had their way with him. Subtle or not so subtle evidence, so long as it isn't couch burn to the face.]

I got [huff, huff] what you need.

[He nuzzles back at him while he takes a grip on the kid's cock again.]

Come on, tough guy. Blow it again, like you said you would.

[And if the words aren't enough, he grinds right there.]

Uh huh. [Freddy sounds breathlessly against Larry...until he takes hold of his cock.] Oh fuck.

[Then he just has to nail him like that doesn't he? Fingers curl to dig into Larry's thigh while his other arm stretches out like he's struggling for fucking life. Writhing. Coming. Dying. Coming. What's the difference? Oh yeah instead of leaking blood everywhere it's semen.]

Fuck, Larry. Fuck! [He may as well be crying in his desperate attempt to both ride his cock and fuck his fist.]

[If the old man thought he was constricted before, now well, now is a different story entirely. He moves right along with Freddy trying to allow him to get the best of both worlds. That grip on his thigh is super human, aching and tight like Freddy all over.]

Keep at it. [Screaming, moving. Oh shit. Larry is shaking too.]

I'm right there. Oh, God, kid. [He kisses and pants at Freddy's neck groaning there as he finally comes. And boy does it feel like damn waters unleashed from Larry's end.]

[The heat pooling inside him draws out his second orgasm from an intensely peaking frenzy and comedown to a long steady shuddering. Even his groans and gasps become thin stretching moans like his reaching and clawing. It turns the kid into a weight...under an even bigger weight. His load's not as heavy as the first but it's got that big old fist coated.]

Oh man... [Breathe, Newendyke, breathe. He tilts his head against Larry.] ...More.

[Kisses, he means. More fucking would be nice too but Freddy doesn't think he can go for a third without risking falling asleep without warning. While possibly an achievement for Larry, fucking the kid until he passed out, it just doesn't sound like much fun. See the tender in the movie? Well fucked but obviously down for the count and counting sheep? He'll never be able to shakedown those other guys for tips.]

[The old man is still unloading, and he grinds all the way through, too caught up in the strength of his orgasm to fuck more. Far stronger than usual, through it all he keeps on moaning and kissing at Freddy's neck and shoulders. There'll be a hickey or two out of this. Hot semen around his cock and in his hand, Larry feels proud of them.]

Gimme [pant pant] ten minutes. [A joke...mostly. Larry stops moving entirely and sighs.]

There ain't no fucker out there like you.

Real funny...wise guy.

[He's trying to be a smartass but his voice comes out in a half groan because of the way Larry's grinding against--into--him. As if the size of his cock and the constriction of his ass weren't enough to keep all that semen inside him. Fucking dirty, that. You're a dirty young man, Newendyke.]

You too...I think my--[Breath hitching.]--ass knows it.

[Both of them are filthy dogs. Or a bear and a dog, animals regardless of the different breed.]

It should fucking know by now.

[He's smoothing over Freddy's ass, squeezing gently. Another series of wet, kisses before he shifts his own weight knowing the kid can't prop them both up for very long.]

I'm gonna move.

[Nice and easy.]

I'm pretty sure it does. [Freddy nods.] Okay.

[The kid nods sweat matted floppy hair back against the old man. He rests all his limbs on the couch now, aiming to relax to make separation easier on them both even if he'll probably regret the loss of feeling there.]

Lemme know if there is any doubt. I'll fix it.

[He sucks in a breath and he's pulling away. Sure he didn't bind the kid's thighs but that was a tight fit. His exhaling breath hisses out. Damn. Larry fumbles for the discarded Superman shirt, or whatever shirt he can grab a hold of to clean off his hand and maybe some of the couch...]

Smoke?

[Already focusing on the next step.]

Maybe tomorrow.

[Not that it's a full promise or anything...the kid thinks he might actually be sore tomorrow. Go figure. For the way he pulls out Larry earns a low hiss followed by what could have been the sound of pleasure. Even pulling out has its own rewards. He's a mess on the inside, he can feel it.]

Sure. [Freddy answers, turning over onto his back now to sprawl out on the couch like one real lazy real well fucked motherfucker.] Light me up.

Tomorrow it is.

[...If the old man is up to it himself. Hands clean he looks over at this well fucked motherfucker. Oh yeah. They had a movie going didn't they? Oh well. Larry drops the shirt--his or Freddy's?--onto the kid's stomach he'll clean there once they have cigarettes.

Marlboros first. Larry leans to tuck it between the kid's lips not before a lick.]

Happy now?

You think I was unhappy before?

[Oh yeah he's gonna ask after a lick and a purse of his lips around that cigarette. Green eyes haven't not noticed the shirt dumped on his stomach...but he don't mind. Freddy takes a shallow pull from the Marlboro.]

Not yesterday.

[Not the day before that or before that...

Click, click of his cigarette to light the kid up. Then another few clicks for himself. Larry rubs the shirt over the kid's belly to get anything that's there before tossing it someplace. An inhale then an exhale. He tells himself he's turning off the TV and movie because it's wasting power...not one more thing to do to keep busy.]

Yesterday I had tits.

[He says like this is an accurate reason for his unhappiness. What man wants to have tits? Honestly. Having tits doesn't let a man make a mess of himself like Larry here is cleaning up.]

Uh huh.

[Leaning, positioning, this old bear is gonna lay up against the kid.]

That really got to you.

[Freddy was crying. That's not something that happens just because he doesn't have a dick but... at the time hey, he didn't know how they were going to be the next day. Still, Larry ventures on.]

All I wanna know is that you're better now.

log post II

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