orangetoughguy | log post II

[Puff, puff. For a moment he doesn't say anything. He's savoring the tension in the air. Freddy smells so damn good right now like the oil and the Marlboros. Brown eyes watch those jeans come off. He takes another drag before keeping it in his teeth.]

Gimme your hands.

[To loop the rope around a few times.]

You are. Prove to me it ain't a flash in the pan.

[Larry takes the bandanna and puts it around Freddy's neck. The rest of the rope coils around his arms to trail off of his shoulder. Camera is up and ready again. Click. And up in real close for his cock hanging between his legs.]

[His hands. The kid offers them up for the old man to do with them whatever he pleases. Shit Larry could tell him to lean out the window and get ready to get fucked and cry it out to the world and he might actually do it. Bandana fixed to his neck he feels a little more like a Fido than a Freddy. It makes his balls ache for some action.]

Am I a bandit or a boyscout?

[He dares to ask while the camera goes off. It's the difference between a look of defiance and submission, after all. Flash in the pan he says. Fff.]

You're a bandit.

[Smoke curls from Larry's cigarette dropping ash here and there as he moves from one side of the mattress to the other. Click. Click. He tosses the pictures aside not even looking at them. Now he'll move that bandanna to sit on the bridge of Freddy's nose and cover his mouth.]

Work with it. You said you wanted to move. The ropes ain't even tight.

[Not yet. Oh and he is thinking about putting the kid out the window because they sure as hell couldn't do it in their apartment. Not without getting caught. It's one thing to do it in your living room with the blinds open. It's plain sight. To do it out the window where people can hear even if they can't see?

He kneels again and rubs a hand over the fly of his own pants none too discretely.]

Okay. A bandit.

[You can do this Newendyke. You're already practically naked so there's nothing to lose. Fuck shyness. The kid gives the old man another hard cutting defiant look before he starts struggling with his binds. It's a slow drawn out sort of battle, like a beast caught in a trap. His body twists and turns on the mattress, stretching, curling, constricting, lashing out. Freddy's only semi-careful of not kicking at Larry, especially when that fly action catches his attention. All the rolling's got his hair messed up again, not to mention the bandana's fallen off his stately nose already. On his side, dick still sticking up, the kid huffs and puffs. Breathe in, breathe out. Look at him and make him want to fuck you without saying a word.]

[Click. Click. Click. Shot for shot it's like he's being fucked by an invisible man. He is a goddamn bandit stealing the old man's cool. Larry swallows thickly and sucks down the rest of his cigarette. Without a care he crushes it on the floor. The tie is hardly even on his neck anymore and he pops a button.]

Perfect. Now you got it.

[Even though he's writhing and thrashing Larry comes closer. The mattress squeaks noisily. Camera lense fixed at Freddy's hip he pulls down those barely on briefs with one finger.]

Turn over. Show me your ass.

[How far down? The tops of his thighs? His knees? It doesn't matter much because with them still on and the kid now on his knees he feels like he's going to get fucked whether he wants to or not. Larry's too cool and starting to lose it behavior is just as intoxicating as the position Freddy's been put in.]

How's this?

[Nothing covering him up now, it's kind of shameless. These are the kinds of photographs not meant for magazines left on the coffee table, not meant for sophisticated editorials or to sell merchandise...unless the merchandise is his sweet ass. There's only one client in the world he caters to and these knees are spreading a little more for him.]

Do I look ready to fuck huh? [Orange is taking over, shameless dirty Orange who doesn't give a rat's ass what a kid from Central California thinks.]

Just what I want.

[Always. Fuck is he ever good at this. It's wrong and so fucking perfect all at once. These could be pictures on someone's coffee table though chances are it is no one of any good repute.

Click.

Larry grabs at that sweet ass with one hand hard. Another shot before he smacks it.]

You do. Maybe I was wrong about pictures. I think you could be in film too.

[Edging closer now he presses close to rub against Freddy. Clothes don't hide that he's hard.]

Okay, bandit. I got another idea. You gotta tell me if you'll like it or not... how about you get on my dick and I shoot you from there.

[Ugh, he moans from the ass-grabbing only to actually groan out loud when Larry smacks it. That's not playing fair at all for fuck's sake. Freddy wets his lips to hold back from begging Larry to fuck him, that erection rubbing onto him doesn't help in the least.]

Would you wanna film me? Getting hot and twisting all over the place. Tellin' you to stick it in me.

[He's not asking, just hypothesizing. Yep. Oh there we go, now Mr. White's getting down to business. Orange looks like he's thinking about it (thinking about how much he wants it) then he nods twice.] Okay. You can put me on your dick, but you gotta take nice pictures. I'm no fuckin' piece of trash.

[Nevermind that he kind of feels trashy and loves it. No inhibitions. No dangers.]

[If he's gonna keep on making noise like that they're never going to get anywhere at all. Straight to fucking. ...as if it were a bad thing at all.]

I think we should start a contract. I told you there's money in it.

[Larry's belt makes noise as it comes undone. He tosses it aside so that Freddy can see it. Tie next, shirt.]

Of course I'm gonna take pictures. I'm a professional. And I can more than see you're a man of taste and ambition.

[Unzip and a ruffle of fabric and Larry rubs his erect cock against him.]

Gimme a bit to get ready.

[Meaning he's gotta pull away to kick off his pants and briefs.]

Would you like a rubber for this piece?

[Don't worry, Freddy. He doesn't have one at all.]

Long term? Gonna keep me under your thumb for as long as you can? I know how that shit works. [Orange boasts like some street-hardened motherfucker, the very opposite of what Freddy Newendyke is. The sounds of his belt, clothes, everything falling aside raises the hairs on his skin. Fuck he wants it so bad and the old man's just taking his goddamn time.]

Sure I am, whatever you say, cowboy.

[The telltale sound of a zip being undone makes him wet his lips--shit shit shit. Another moan escapes his lips. His cock is so close, so fucking close. That tease. Green eyes flash another sharp look at Lawrence Dimick. He better give Freddy a good rough fuck for taking all this time. He doesn't even care if his briefs stay stretched around his knees. He shakes his head a bit more insistent than he means to be. No.] Why, you got one?

[Don't make the kid work his way around begging him not to put it on. Come on that's just cruel.]

You need someone like me to make it in thus business. [Oh he sees those hairs stand up. He rubs his paw down the kid's back and over his thighs.]

Know what? I think that was the one thing I forgot.

[Larry grabs the lube and coats his dick. Of course now he's got to rub some in with his fingertips.]

Tell me you still wanna go through with it though.

[Just rubbing, not fucking him with his fingers though it is very tempting.]

I need someone like you.

[Says the kid, betting it's like music to his fucking old man ears. Who doesn't want to be wanted? Needed? Held, touched, and squeezed just like he's doing to his back and thighs. Freddy arches under that paw like a damn animal.] Uh huh---

[Hitch. Don't ease back on those fingers, Newendyke. You're a tough guy remember? You don't have to beg for it.] ...I wanna go through with it.

[Yes he does. He eases back onto those knuckles. Begging.] Fuck me. Let's get your fuckin' pictures, cowboy.

You won't be sorry.

[A motherfucking symphony from that admission to the hitch of his breath.]

We'll see it right through to the finish.

[Okay. He'll finger fuck him with him easing in such a way. A few goes before Larry pulls back.]

Okay, my man. First shot. Make it dynamic.

[He sits upright and pats his thigh. He wants Freddy to sit on it. With his arms coiled the old man will do the guiding.]

Be ready to change up the position a few times. May as well since we're in the right moment.

[Holy shit all of this bull rolls out so well. Maybe obsessing over what That Dick is thinking and feeling toward the kid may have something to do with it.]

Mm...

[The kid sounds for those rough fingers. Just getting warmed up though, he wants the old man's cock, hard and thick inside him. It helps when he's been there before, been there a fuck ton since Black Magic Woman actually. Following Larry's lead Freddy gets to his feet then pulls his briefs back up (appreciate the effort he's making with his hands tied, Dimick), just enough to sit on top of his ass and balls but under his dick. Then he kneels over Larry's lap.]

I can do that. [Change positions he means, for this first one though, he's got his own request to make.] Pull them aside, fuck me in'em.

[Freddy doesn't even need to play Orange to make that demand. He's fucked women like this before, in the backdoor so their panties hide what he at the time didn't acknowledge he didn't care to see. Freddy Newendyke is all man though, what proves it is sticking out of the elastic, something no woman can do.]

[How many times exactly? Who can tell. Each has been different and meaning something different but similar the whole time.]

I like this direction.

[To prove it he takes a picture and tosses it to one side. For a moment he almost puts down the camera. Nope. Not yet anyway. Larry wraps his fingers around the kid to bring him on closer. There are a few free tugs to that too. Another shot of their cocks this close before he pulls the elastic and cotton to one side to push up against his ass again.]

Need more lube? Better lighting?

[Huff. Puff. Puff. Keep it cool, Dimick.]

[A lot. That's a good amount and an accurate one too. Huff huff, with a paw around him the kid is at the old man's mercy. In a building like this he doesn't have too much of a problem making noise. Freddy groans for the tugging. Shit his bandana's still on too huh? What a costume. When he feels Larry's dick against him he leans back, fucking aching for it.]

No. I'm okay. This is okay. [Puff.] How's it for you?

[Trick question because Larry hasn't started fucking him yet. Can't tell until they figure that part out first right?]

[Freddy isn't alone groaning. He has to put the camera down for a second.]

So far so good. Get on me completely.

[The hand not on his dick goes to the kid's slick chest to lightly smack like he's scolding. A thumb ghosts over his nipple for just a second before he gets both hands on his thighs.]

Yeah. There we go. Real fucking good. Mmmm.

[If he sounds like he belongs in one of Freddy's movies it is no coincidence at all.]

Okay.

[Another nod--then a grunt for the smack. Larry really knows how to pour the routine on thick, but then again he's a professional. However this kid had him fooled since the commode story so Freddy's no amateur either. He's a rising fucking rockstar. Down he goes on the old man's cock, slow and steady but in one sinking motion. If he sounds a little reedy, well Larry knows why. The thin tone doesn't last though, as soon as he's full of Mr. White his voice turns into a lower growl.]

Like that?

[He's rocking, grinding slow, green eyes narrowed again for those photos. The lighting makes him look a bit like pasty trash, but at least he's aggressive hungry pasty trash.]

[He can't lower the volume of his breathing. Oh well.]

Fuck.

[Freddy goes right on to it. Hot damn. Yeah he is convincing too. It was the way he was so cool about the fucking commode story. Larry was right with him in the moment. His desperation was real, only it wasn't for remembering the story it was sitting at the table with crooks trying to get by.]

Just like that. Fuck.

[Take the pictures, Dimick. The dick bobbing with the motion. The way his hands are tied. And let's not forget how his ass is taking in the old man's cock. Click after click.]

Put your hands up behind your head. Keep moving.

[Larry is moving now too. How can he not? Now and then his cock brushes against part of the briefs that move. He happily readjusts.]

[Click after click but in Larry's lap Freddy doesn't really think about how weird or foolish he probably looks in those photos. Who cares when he's fucking his old man nice and hard? And it's fucking great. He raises his bound hands to set them behind his head. The motion opens his oiled chest a little wider, perfect torso shot.]

I'm movin', fuck I ain't stoppin' soon.

[Freddy insists sounding less like he's being played and more like he's helping to run the show. The touch of those fingers to his skin, his briefs pulling and getting a little damp from sweat among other things. Fucking beautiful.] How about you huh?

[Huff.] Want a picture?

[The finished product may end up to be scrambled porn for all Larry cares. It doesn't matter. And he might be running right out of film. It's all worth it.]

I'm...great. [Why even bother lying?] This is what's gonna get you to the big time. Bring your arms down. Gimme the rope. I'll hold and you lean back.

[He'll make the last one's count.]

I'm gettin' all the pictures I want.

I think I...'ve made it big already.

[Take your compliments while you can old man. The kid brings his arms down as asked, letting Larry have the rope while his thighs still to let him take the reins.]

Make me ride it, big man. Make me really fuckin' feel it in the saddle.

[How's that for making up for the stable jaunt? Oh wait they already made up for that too.]

Thanks.

[As though he were some big time photographer with his skill not hard cock he is pounding. Larry moves enough onto his knees to follow him into the motion. Somehow he grabs the polaroid for another shot.]

You look good like this all caught up, hard and wet.

[There's a distinct strain in his voice. He's trying not to grunt and groan.]

Slippery's more like it.

[Freddy utters. His oiled skin is gonna need a shower after all this. Hey don't people prep up with oil for pouring candles and shit? That's almost a little too unorthodox for Freddy Newendyke. More like he'd never ask for it himself but Lord knows he can't say no to Lawrence Dimick. For now though there's this rope, bandana, and reins deal. He's rocking hard and solid against him, strained by the wrists and loving every second.]

Maybe you wanna save that shit. [His film he means.] For the moneyshot.

[There's a photo he wouldn't mind Larry having, a tired pile of Orange stained in White. But silly Freddy, what makes you think the old man's got only one cartridge. He's called two guns for a reason.]

I need to reload.

[God help him it is hard to say. Follow through. Old man. One. Two. And he pulls out.]

Can you get the ropes off on your own? I think we should [talk man, use your head] utilize the window.

[Big ol' bear of a man busies himself by putting in more film. He has to even keep is eyes to himself.]

So tell me what you meant by moneyshot.

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