orangetoughguy | log post II

Goddamn right.

[Why are they even still talking. Larry's shirt is off, coat with it. Pants he can step out of. Warp speed to the kid. A paw grips at his ass and the other helps boost him to the counter top. Lube is found easily--the lifestyle they lead in this City could have been lost forever.

His fingers lube up his cock and then the kid's ass is greased up.]

Goin' in.

[From the get go.]

[Oof again. That genuinely catches Freddy by surprise, not because he wasn't expecting Larry to go in for the kill so to speak but because it still boggles him how easily the other guy can lift him up and just set him down anywhere he pleases. No big deal. Really. Aside from the fact that Orange can't possibly do the same to the bigger broader White. Whatever. He spreads his knees apart for Larry.]

Okay.

[Oh shit, just his fingers alone feel fucking good. Did he even wash his hands? Freddy arches his back, anticipating the feeling of something bigger.] Stick it in.

[One hand to each ass cheek as he spreads him and eases on in.]

Mmm.

[His head is dipped to look down at the man, look at his face as his body takes him on in. Nice and easy for now.]

There you go, baby.

Oh God.

[Freddy groans, feeling him push past with only a slight slip. It burns but not enough for him to call it pain. Right now it makes Orange feel more like he just survived fucking zombie mayhem. Right in the ass. His arms stretch out to find something to grip, the space behind him, the counter's edge. Anything. One heel sits on Larry's shoulder. Who knew the kid's legs were long enough for that hah.]

That's it man. Shit... [Another groan. His own muscles flex and contort from settling around White.]

[White feels like an engine burning hot and ready to piston. This is what he fights for, this kind of a connection that drives him crazy and makes him stupid and powerful.]

Look good enough to eat.

[That particular slip is not far. He can feel it. Larry turns his head to take a nip at Freddy's ankle then suck it on the next turn.

The battlefield isn't LA anymore and the struggle isn't against undead monstrosities.]

Eat me.

[Freddy moans. Ironic humor, considering the world they just left, but he can't help himself. Oh fuck his back arches from the way Larry sucks on his ankle, it makes taking the old man deeper even easier. The kid feels goddamn impaled on his cock and he loves it. Those slightly freckled cheeks are flushed red under the bright kitchen lights.]

Christ fuck me, Larry.

[Perfect fit. Saliva slips from Larry's mouth and starts rolling down the length of Freddy's leg. The way the kid is laying with the right lighting if they were still he feels like he could count the freckles.

It hits him how ironic it is. The old man is brainless enough. Except he is very, very much alive.]

You want this? [First hard hit directly at the prostate.] Huh?

[Like he needs to even ask.]

Won't leave [slam slam slam of skin against skin. ] a thing left.

[For as small as it is the kid can feel those drops of saliva rolling down every fraction of an inch. His senses are fully heightened, every single one of them, which means he also feels that hard push to his prostate. It makes Freddy gasp then groan, back arching and legs tightening.]

Uh huh. I want it. Fuck I--want--it.

[Each word gets punctuated with a thrust. Those green eyes are squeezed near shut for the way Larry's ravaging his body.] Christ, Larry.

[He already has to reach down and start jerking himself.]

[The old man's gonna let the kid work his own cock. His whole focus is fucking him exactly like he wants it. There's a feast for the eyes. It inspires him to take another hard bite. At this rate he'll make a mark.]

Take it. You fucking take it. [Huffing, puffing and moaning like a beast. God he likes it.] That enough already? Gonna burst?

[Damn he would be about there normally. Nifty trick.]

Uh huh...uh h-huh...

[No time for words, the kid's breathing is getting shallow, ready. After what they've been through a hard fuck is exactly what he needs. Oh but he doesn't want to blow it just yet, feels like it would be too soon even with Larry wearing the tape. They have a few rooms to cover so Freddy's got to do his part too.]

Turn me over. I wanna--[Swallow.]--feel you on my back.

Sure.

[Meaning that on the backward draw the old man pulls out.]

Get over here.

[Paws on him again pulling him upright. Since the kid is there Larry pulls their mouths together. It feels like the house is a sauna. Good thing they're not wearing anything. Pulling apart he pulls Freddy into motion.]

Bend over the couch.

[A low stretched out groan follows the motion of pulling out. Shit that loss of fullness is particularly sharp. He wants Larry's dick back inside him again. Upright his feet go back down but before he hops off he leans right into that pull.]

Mmm....

[Mouth to mouth, face to face, the kiss is full and deep. His fingers dig against hard muscle, rough skin. Along a wildcat. This is what he wants, what he needs, a fucking hard man, and Mr. White at that. Breaking away Freddy finally walks over to the couch. His bend over the back is raw and kind of raunchy, inviting in a way only a slut could do. Freddy looks over his shoulder, watching to see how fast Larry jumps to action.]

[The hot salty sweat of his skin is the perfect taste. Maybe those zombies were onto something.

How fast? He practically races back. Without words the kid is begging for it. Don't want to leave the man hanging especially when Larry doesn't know how long he'll last even with their nifty trick. It's the World Series.]

Yeah. Just like that.

[Since he's bent over in such a way he lays a hard slap before aligning himself.]

Like this?

[Gotta remember to be gentle though Ready Freddy's body is well ready. He said he wanted to feel the old man against his back. Larry holds the majority of his weight off but lays so the kid can feel skin.]

Come on--

[Urk. The kid grunts for that hard slap, it stung for a split second, the good kind though. Fuck if every day could be like this...except then they'd never get any work done. Oh shit, he needs to call the shop. ...Freddy'll call later. His thighs tense just slightly upon alignment.]

Yeah, like that. Lean into me baby, I wanna feel you.

[He bows his back, making a sharp curve to better feel Larry above him while still pushing his rear back onto him. Yeah, that's how badly he wants it.] My ass misses you already.

Here you go.

[Slipping in all the way. Even though it was a few moments the old man missed the tight firm hold, body pressed against body. Reunited and it feels so good. Here he goes, slamming again seeing as he was invited.]

I love feelin' you under me.

[Firm, scattered muscle and wiry frame, no tits. If they went on like this forever one of them would be knocked up. Nothing at all would get done.]

Fuck. Oh fuck. Keep fuckin' me. Like that.

[His words come out in bit phrases with thrusts for punctuation. Freddy grunts over every pass, every push and pull. Without the wrapping yeah he'd be pretty knocked up by now although never underestimate the underdog. His loads might be left in Lawrence Dimick few and far between but each one's highly potent in the Newendyke stuff. How else did his mom have three kids in about five years? (No contraceptives, duh.)]

Love feelin' you...on me. [Freddy manages to gasp. He reaches behind himself to snag his fingers in peppering brown hair.] Fuckin' magic.

[Would it just beat all if it was Freddy that knocked up the old man?]

Not gonna stop, not today.

[It's satisfying to see and feel how much the man is undone by how the old man goes to town on him.]

Magic's all you.

[Larry huffs and puffs into the crook of Freddy's neck. The couch groans under them like it's the third wheel.]

What's next? [Panting and gulping down saliva. He's a bear not a drooling dog dammit.] Wanna ride me on the stairs, baby?

[He wouldn't refuse the product of that union, not one bit, and Larry would still get dibs on being called papa. Freddy's perfectly happy with being dad. Uh, not that the kid's actually thought about it or anything. Yeah.]

Good cause... [There's a hand going between his own thighs.] I don't want you--stoppin'.

[Oh fuck riding White on the stairs would be great. So great the very thought has Freddy about to leak precum.] I'm gonna come.

[It's in the old man's hands as to whether he can wait for the kid to blow it first then move onto the stairs or force him to hold it while they make their way over. Any option will do when you can reload.]

[Weird science gone wrong or right...or some shit. How could the old man possibly fight against that if it happens? It's got nothing to do with religion. And no, no he didn't think about this other then their passing conversations. Just for kicks. Though nothing really compares to this kind of a kick.]

Don't come on the damn couch. I want it on me.

[Meaning he'll haul him to the stairs. And yeah he pulls out. It's harder to do this time.]

You can do it, can't you motherfucker? Can't you?

[Now Freddy has to do the following.]

What?

[Not for the coming on him part but for the not coming on the couch. Fff. As if Larry's ever so immaculate with the furniture, well, he is more so than Freddy it seems.]

Oh God.

[Freddy gasps loud and deep when Larry pulls out, that fucker. He feels empty again and that emptiness really puts a halt on his own orgasm. His dick doesn't drip after all. Fuck. His following is weak and sort of funny, he can't walk straight. Congratulations, Lawrence Dimick. Smaller paws fall on him for steadiness.]

Almost there.

[Both ways. Larry doesn't go far up the stairs at all. He grips the kid's hairy, freckled forearms to help keep him stable. Boy if he's walking funny now what the fuck will tomorrow hold?]

Right here. Sit on it.

[The old man takes his own cock and gives it a brief stroke. Woah man. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Besides, Freddy wants it bad anyway. He's going as far as to guide him on.]

Uh huh...

[A nod, another shakey step. Whew there we go, on the stairs. Those paws on his forearms help. Freddy doesn't need to ask questions either when the man guides his cock upward.]

I'm gettin' on it.

[Swallow. There's sweat already beading on his forehead. With another loud groan the kid's bearing his weight down on the old man. Grunt, he won't pause until he's buried to the hilt...fuck. Breathe, Newendyke. There we go. Then without another word Freddy starts grinding and bucking. Did Larry think he was starting to go down for the count? Fff.]

Better?

[Brown eyes are half lidded. Face to face once again. Breathing is hard and heavy. So the old man can't unload but it doesn't mean he's not sweating bullets. It's a bombardment.]

So much fucking better. Yeah.

[Fingers wrap around his cock too. Freddy said he was working to come. He'll directly help.]

Got me all tight up in your ass still. [Pant, pant.]

Oh yeah, real tight. [Grunt.] Even when you...work it loose.

[The kid's taking shallow panting breaths with every motion. He's riding Lawrence Dimick like his life depends on it--oh shit. Paw on his dick has him leaking in three jerks.] Fuck, Larry, I'm gonna come.

[Just like he wants anyway. Freddy's hands hold firmly to his shoulders.]

Do it. Do it. Come on. [He'd be more creative if he wasn't feeling strain too. His ass is starting to go numb against the stair as he pulls back and pushes up riding along with Freddy. The mind can only wonder what the hell the kid's ass feels like with the stopping and going.]

All fucking over me.

[Even if it's gonna be a few hot streaks, it's how good it makes the kid feel. This is their fucking to celebrate living and being glad that this party is gonna keep going. His paw tightens close to the tip of his dick, still stroking.]

Make it count.

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