orangetoughguy | log post II

Augh-- [Freddy sounds from the pull. A little rough ain't he? But the kid asked for it and shit if he didn't have his hands on Larry's dick he'd be whacking off himself. Saliva drips down the old man's shaft to drop on the floor.] Nuh uh...

[He's a lair, he loves it. He'd say so if it wasn't taking up the entire length of his jaw, towards his throat. Freddy bobs his head up and down, either simulating getting his face fucked or encouraging Larry to do it. Could be both.]

No? Maybe you ain't tasting it right.

[Invitation happily accepted. Holding his head still he starts a slow fucking.]

Yeah.

[He pulls on Freddy's hair, not as hard but with the motion as though he has to prompt him to move with him.]

Imagine. This is gonna be up your ass.

Mmff...

[Dick in his mouth, so far back he might just choke on it, the kid really has no room to talk. He can't confirm or deny those assertions but who honestly needs to know? Larry has the right idea. Fucking Mr. Orange's face, this is the kind of thing he imagined when they first met. Something about the way Mr. White looked, the way he talked, how he moved. Everything. And soon this cock is gonna be up his ass, fuck how Freddy loves taking it up the ass. With Lawrence Dimick he has no problem admitting it.]

Auuhh--

[Somehow he can still breathe even though he's getting a little sloppy with his saliva, but that means Larry's getting thoroughly lubricated right? Freddy takes his hands off the other man to start undoing his own pants. The kid can't take it anymore, either he starts whacking off now or Mr. White bends him over.]

[This is the shit that fills dreams. It's surreal and another day in their lives.]

Okay, tough guy. Get the fuck off of me. Get up.

[Hah. As the authoritative figure he has the right to grab a hold of his wrist with that hand in his pants.]

So you're ready for the next step. I think you're a damn liar, you've done this before.

[Face to face for a moment. Larry roughly rubs away some of the saliva. Is that too tender? The moments gone and he's shoving down the kid's pants completely.]

[Oof. Freddy flashes a brief faux-moment of resentment for the way he pulls his wrist, effectively preventing him from touching himself. Up on his feet Freddy keeps his green eyes narrowed to maintain a semblance of defiance. One of those gestures is clicking his teeth as if he might bite Larry for rubbing away his saliva. It's a sweet gesture, don't get him wrong.]

What if I have? Do you think you can do better, think my ass can't take it?

[Whoa now. His pants dropping down like that show off his own erection, and it's pretty fucking hard. But let that not distract the kid from leaning up eye to eye, to present his challenge. For emphasis he takes hold of Larry's cock firmly and without warning.] I'll have you coming faster than a fuckin' speeding bullet.

[There are dirty words on his tongue and they disappear like sugar. Yeah, he is ready and raring to go. That hold threatens to make him come.]

Fuck!

[He swallows and shoves Freddy's shoulder. Don't look desperate.]

Talk, talk, talk. Turn around and bend over.

[Aw he's not a cruel kid. Freddy releases him to drag a fingertip up that short soft trail. Sometimes he wonders if Lawrence Dimick was born with it or if he trims. He'll never really need the details, he's happy with the way Larry is.]

Make me.

[He takes a rough hold of Freddy's hips. Here is revenge. Paws grip hard and he grinds cock to cock for two seconds before pulling back and forcing him around.]

Enough bullshit. Might feel better if you spread em. Don't matter to me whether you do or you don't.

[Like Larry would actually harm the kid at all. He believes this right? No matter how rough his hands are as they push to bend him over the crate now they are not out to hurt him.]

[Don't look too excited now, Newendyke, that's called breaking character. You're supposed to be like Marlon Brando or some shit. Oh fuck none of that matters now when they're cock to cock, when he's turned around and forced over. Of course he knows Larry's not out to hurt him. To their credit after all this time no one's bothered to come up with a safeword. Freddy's cheek cools from the touch of metal.]

Don't tell me what to do, asshole.

[The kid spreads his thighs...only a little. He bends his arms behind his back, 'forced' yep. He licks his lips again, feeling like his balls might empty just from anticipation.]

[Safe word...oh yeah. They do that in movies and underground clubs. Those seem distant, separate from what kind of arrangement this is.]

You are in no position to be saying that.

[Lube now because it's not as rough, tough and heartless as it seems. A liberal amount for Larry's cock and about the same for Freddy because he wasn't kidding when he said he was diving right on in. The cap clicks shut. He aligns before a slow easy force.]

Here it comes.

Oh fuck.

[The kid's breath hitches. That happens a little faster and harder than he expected, not that they haven't had rough stuff before. A chair and a boiler room come to mind. That doesn't mean it gets easier and easier though, Freddy would be disappointed if such a thing ever happened for them. He's still young and Larry, well, the way Larry fucks suggests he's still got his best years in him, all enhanced by his experience.]

Jesus... [Freddy sucks in another breath as his body adjusts to the feeling of having Larry so quick and full inside him. Swallow.] Christ.

[To his own credit, the dirty blonde does not spread his thighs any wider. Let Larry do all the work since he's so inclined towards this role.]

Oooh.

[Both hands grab Freddy's ass cheeks to squeeze and claw. He can be savage there. The rest of him is firm, not too rough.]

Gonna pray for back up now?

[All the way in.]

All you got here is me.

[Huff puff puff. Groan. Breathe, Newendyke, breathe.]

I don't...need no fuckin' back up...for you.

[Oh fuck was there more? Of course there was. His back bows upon feeling Larry burying himself to the damn hilt. Shit if he begs now he'll be showing his hand. Think fast, Freddy.] ...Is that it?

[He may or may not regret asking that. Because this is Lawrence Dimick it's probably the latter.]

[WHACK. Right there on the ass.]

Where are your manners, fucker? Say thank you for this.

[It's like he is Johnny Storm, smoldering and smoking right there.]

I can tear you to pieces if this is too good for you.

[Now he'll grind and give the kid what's owed to him.]

Ahh!

[Oh shit did he really just cry out? Well fuck who would blame Freddy? Honestly. The kid pants against the crate, refusing to say the words or show any manners for that matter. That would be unlike a rough trade hustler. For the record though, Freddy would liken this more to the Punisher laying a much needed smackdown on Peter Parker. One's got a mouth and the other's got a fist. That's how it works. Being Johnny Storm is still pretty damn supercool though.]

I wanna see you. [Swallow.] Try.

[While this isn't much of a superpower it is worth noting a little practiced constriction doesn't show up outside the skin, but he's doing it because he said he'd (try to) make the old man come first. Overall Freddy's come a long way from having Santana break the cherry off the stem.]

[Music to the old man's ears.]

Fine.

[First thrust is solid and well placed. He's aiming for the prostate from the first go. With a head start he has to make the most of the time given.]

Can you handle the whole deal? Huh? I told you I'm not gonna hold back. I might consider goin' easy on you if you ask. Heh.

[His voice is strained. It's a more difficult act to hold up. Another hard smack before he really comes into motion. Oh fuck that is tight. Damn kid.]

[Smacking his ass only makes him tighter for every split second hit. It's tight enough it almost hurts. Freddy's bowing his back again with grunts and groans. He has no reason to keep quiet and they're hardly in an area where they need to keep the neighbors in mind so the kid decides to just let it all loose.]

Don't hold back. Don't fuckin' hold back.

[Another gasp cuts off his own words. He's feeling each thrust, if the crate weren't set against a wall it'd probably be inching towards it. The smell of an arsenal as the undercurrent to getting fucked is intoxicating.] Screw the shit out of me, tough guy.

[Er...is Freddy even in character anymore? Does it matter?]

[Enough with the hitting. Down to business now for sure.]

Pound the shit out of you. Just. Like. You. Like it. [Each clipped sentence is punctuated with a thrust.]

Fuck. [Larry lowers his head trying to stay focused. Pre-cum is slammed up against Freddy's prostate. Looks like his smug boast might be coming true after all.]

What my hand on you, tough guy? [One lean forward he can nose his ear.] You want that? Hnnnughh.

[He's trying to ask a question and not moan.]

[Each thrust ends with him gasping, almost like he's in some kind of fucking pain. Larry's got that over Freddy. The kid either can't form the simple word or he's too enthralled in getting pounded to think otherwise. Whatever the case he does manage to nod against the crate and thus against the old man's chiseled nose.]

Nnhnn...

[That's a 'yes' if Larry can't tell, he wants a paw on him. Freddy also shifts an arm to curl behind himself and clutch Larry by the hair. Again his mouth parts but the words are unintelligible. Sounds more like some raggedy gasping and groaning instead.]

Okay, baby. Okay.

[So much for a seasoned gunrunning pro roughing up a newbie. Now it's the old man and the kid rutting like animals. Though it's never normal or dull. Not when they fall into action this fiercely, not when the kid sounds like that.]

Here.

[His fingers wrap around that hard, rod between his legs before he has the ability to breathe the word. Feels fucking terrific to work it. The fresh memory of Freddy doing it himself in his brain he mimics the moves. Though honestly, the man knows how to get the right result.

Speaking of. Larry's thrusts are getting more erratic. Fuck, he lost. Or won. Something. Anyway he's gonna let loose.]

I'm gonna come right on in that tight, tight ass of yours.

[Baby. The word kind of gets him everytime, kind of like how his cock is getting his prostate everytime. The kid utters some kind of sound that were he in the backseat of a convertible it could be mistaken for a death knell. It just feels that fucking good with Lawrence Dimick, to hell with the scenario set up.]

Oh fuck.

[Freddy shudders for those thick fingers wrapping around him. In two pumps he's already feeling his knees weakening so thank God for the crate.] Do it, tough guy. Fill me up.

[He licks his lips again. At this proximity maybe Larry can see his face, the half-lidded green eyes, his brow furrowed from the intensity, cheeks fucking flushed.]

[The nod is more of a nuzzle. He can make out the side of Freddy's face. Slam. Slam. This is one sturdy crate holding both of them up.]

Oh God.

[Hard forward thrust and grind mark Larry's orgasm. His hold on Freddy's cock and hip don't let up at all, they just cease to move as he unloads. If this were a warehouse standoff with cops armed to the teeth his cry would be one of despair. Quite the opposite. This fucking kid feels so good. Like this if he can strain to keep his vision straight he can see Freddy's expression. Double whammy.]

[Keep watching then old man because when he unloads his expression changes. It could be anguish in a different setting but right here it's goddamn paradise. Paradise on an alien island in some little lady's weapon cache but all under Lawrence Dimick's hands. Freddy groans and grinds with him, feeling the extra heat. He'll be damned if he ever has to go back to wrapping up with Larry.]

...Fu.. [Breathe.] Fuckin' told you....

[Good thing he stopped pumping that paw too or else he'd be leaking between those knuckles.]

Don't mean a thing. You're right behind.

[Even though he's in front and beneath. Huff, huff and puff. Back into motion. Freddy has got to come now. It'll make his relenting less of a point of bragging.]

Come on. Fucking burst.

[Grinding. Stroking. Even though Freddy's got a shirt on he still bites at his shoulder and upper arm.]

I wanna feel it, baby.

[Right on his fucking heels really. The kid's so fucking close, just starting up again on his ass and dick gets him spilling drops of precum.]

Fuck...that's it baby. Larry.

[Now Freddy's got it in him to move with Larry again, for himself and for the old man's benefit. Let him watch and feel his baby writhing on his cock, fucking and getting fucked and bitten until he blows, which is right about now. Freddy moans loud and heavy, moaning turns into deeper ragged gasps as he stains Larry's fingers. Making a goddamn mess in here, they'll have to clean it later.]

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