orangetoughguy | log post II

[He can't see Freddy's body moving, he can feel it and imagine (remember) what it looks like. Mouth and throat relax and move with him, now and then making wet noises through a few grunts. The kid can't be mad if he's got the old man on his cock, can he? The list of people who can claim the same is very short.]

[No he can't be mad and to be honest he hasn't been mad since Larry let him put the blindfold on. How long is the list of people who can claim they've had Mr. White's mouth on their cock while wearing a blindfold huh? Freddy somehow manages to maintain his slow but firm rhythm.]

Fuckin' sweet...get the whole thing ready for you...

[The kid swallows. He could easily lose himself between those lips but he's gonna save his load for his ass. Ain't that sweet too, Dimick? The kid didn't beat off while you were gone.] How would you want me to fuck a young piece of ass huh? On all fours? On my lap? Face to face? Nod.

[With the blindfold on the old man wouldn't feel self-conscious would he? That hasn't escaped Freddy's notice either, the only time he got to plow Larry face to face was when he was seventeen. Oh shit he fucked a seventeen year old technically, that's jail time.]

[As long as he's not mad tomorrow or the day after. Thinking about even tomorrow is hard with hard, hot flesh gliding in and out of his mouth.

He knows where this is going now and he lets one of his paws drop to his lap to brush over his cock. Look at the old man nod. Who cares how he can get it, if the kid wants to fuck him hard and good, why the fuck not.

Blindfolded the old man can't see his own girth, he'll have to do his best to splay his legs one way or the other. Can it work like that. He's still nodding making it part of the movement, getting Freddy to keep on fucking his face.]

[Aw come on isn't it obvious? The kid's not mad. Maybe he'll have to give Larry a kiss to prove it. Later though. Fucking first, then romance. That's his punishment for spending his evening at a nudie bar without Freddy.]

Okay baby. I'll show you how I'd fuck a little hot shot.

[His grip in Larry's hair tightens so he can thrust harder, faster, a little rough like he might just come in his mouth after all. Naw, false alarm. He pulls back enough to force his lips off.] Jesus look at you, ready to get off huh? Quick whacking and get up.

[Here have another tug on his hair to get the old man back on his feet. He won't be on them long though, the kid's tossing his shirt and blazer down on the lounge chair--yeah, that lounge chair--then pushing Larry over to sit in it.]

[A guilty man is a guilty man. He really did want to have Freddy come along, no lie he could think of would have fit the bill. And as much as he wanted to it didn't seem worth it to forfeit all that they've come to protect.

The faster, harsh pace must mean he's gonna want to blow in his throat right? A shiver rattles outward from the pit of his stomach. Larry tries to ease his throat into relaxing to take it. Wait. No? Disappointment lingers only a little bit.]

Show me exactly how.

[The rasp in his voice will go away. He isn't gonna cough or anything but damn did Freddy go to town on his mouth. In the movies that's what gets the girls crying. Strong, authoritative man forcing his dick where he likes it could be intimidating or scary... except this is the kid. And that's no primate sex organ swinging around like a club.

Moving more he feels the fabric of that chair soft against his ass. The old man loves this chair and the man who is forcing him on in it.]

Like this?

[Look Dimick do you want it in this hole or that hole? You can't have it both ways, Freddy's no superhero or mutant with some innate ability to be in two places at once. Though one of these days he ought to tell him about Multiple Man and how the concept alone kept his hand busy at the turn of the 80s.]

I'm gonna. Spread'em.

[There's that tone again, authoritative, commanding. And if Larry needs help well here's Freddy putting his cigarette to then grab him by his knees and set each leg over an arm rest.] Like this.

[Two Freddy Newendykes at once would be an experience. Say, at least one of em has had a taste of what that's like. However weird. Please do let the old man know about this Multiple Man.]

Shit.

[So the old man can move just fine. Huh. Laying here waiting for it like a slut, that's what he is for this man. Sure he might be on top a big portion of the time but he's rolling right along with everything the kid has to offer now.]

Love this chair.

[Where's the kid now? Hovering above him? Can he at least touch the guy?]

[Said chair is dropping down at a lower angle that'll really put the old man at a disadvantage, not that he doubts Larry can get up if he really has to. He's just making it really hard. But feel that? That's his shirt and jacket spread out under him to help catch a mess he plans to make. See Freddy cares, he knows he loves that chair, and getting their clothes drycleaned is way easier than getting the upholstery disinfected.]

I know you do.

[Have a hard pinch to that ass, Lawrence Dimick. Freddy's right here hovering over him with a tube of lube. He puts it in one paw.] Put it on me. You're a professional but that don't mean I'm gonna take you dry. That's just fuckin' mean.

[Clever bastard. No stains for the chair, it's still so new. Did he think this all up while watching Rambo sweat and pile up bodies? Now that he's tilt back just so feels like he'll be at the kid's mercy.]

Thanks. [That blind hand find his cock and rubs from base to tip up and down spreading the lube.] It'll feel better for you too if you're all wet.

[With more than saliva. Larry tilts his head back and pictures that cock in his hand.]

You keep telling yourself that.

[Freddy says with a shameless smirk. Yeah he may just be bullshitting with that swagger and attitude but hell Larry can't see him so why the hell not? He pulls the paw away now.]

That's enough. [He tosses the lube aside. Squeak. That's the sound of Freddy bracing half his weight on the furniture. Sturdy stuff, this chair. He settles a hand on Larry's knee too, for leverage and to keep his legs apart.] Make some noise, tough guy.

[His press up against the old man's rear leads right into a firm lean forward. He's gonna bury himself in one shot.]

[Damn it's like the kid has been possessed by some dark, alien force that's seeped into his skin. That would be Venom, Larry if this were some Marvel comic. Right now it is all potent bullshit. It's keeping the old man hot and guessing what the next step is.]

Give it to me, man. [Hopefully the kid will. First contact and Larry let's his head fall back]

Fuck. [Steady and still moving this man is a marvel.]

[If only he had Venom's power then Larry would be doing fucking flips and shit in midair. He might even cry. The kid doesn't want to be on the list of people who make Lawrence Dimick cry though, not anymore. And anyway for as dexterous a tongue he has, Venom is still some creepy messy shit.]

Who else is gonna fuck you like this huh?

[Christ he has to hiss the words out because the old man is so tight around him. He'd almost quip the guy should loosen up but no, he likes how tight up he is, how no one else gets to fuck him but Freddy Newendyke. It's a goddamn privilege. It's no double standard if the kid entertains the idea of putting someone else's cock in him but the old man's ass remains off limits, is it? Huh, oughta think through that third party thing some more. He speaks in a hiss close to his ear.]

You made me--real sore the other night, you know. [Turnabout's fair play, his rhythm quickens, cutting that long drawn out tease to short hard unapologetic thrusts.] Then you go out. [Huff.] And pull this shit? Lucky I don't put a rubber glove on.

[It could be the position or being tense, but the kid feels huge inside the old man. Somehow they're able to get right on in this big body of the old man's.]

Nobody.

[And he doesn't want anyone else to fuck him like this.]

Goddamn. Don't stop. [Most of all, don't put on a fucking rubber after all this time. Larry earned his beating, so he should earn all the trappings including the load at the end.]

[Actually he meant the kind of rubber you put on your fist but the lesser said of it the better because it was only a posturing threat. Freddy wouldn't dare actually try it, he's no actor in a donkey show fff. A bullrider on the other hand...]

Don't tell me what to do.

[Swallow. It ain't easy talking shit while you're fucking the shit out of someone. Freckled hands claw at his thighs and the chair's rocking with each pound until Freddy leans in as deep as he can go and stays there. Teeth go right for a nipple as he grinds.] Think a little dancer would do this for you? Huh?

[His arms reach farther back to lock with Larry's too, wildcat caught in a trap. He's not gonna let the guy stroke a thing until he says so.] They don't know you like I do.

[Now who is digging for what?]

You gonna--gonna make me sorry for it?

[There we go, he's getting back a little of his cheek except now's a lousy time. Rocking with the chair and having the kid pound him just so--then pause.]

No, no fuckin' way. [Full and held down he can't see what's coming next. All he knows is that Freddy's practically throbbing on the inside while his own cock is laying between them. He hisses and bucks.] Not crazy like you...

[Does that answer Larry's question? Again the kid gives a sly smirk for how the old guy clearly wants him to keep going.]

Miss me goin' in and outta you already?

[If it weren't for the blindfold Larry could see how much effort it takes for Freddy not to give in and start fucking him again. He rubs light sweat off his brow.]

[Pant pant. The old man makes a tight noise at the back of his throat. He's practically aching for it.]

I know you do.

[Hopefully. Sweating bullets in this chair now. Larry tries to move the chair but the kid has the upper hand.]

C'mon. What are you waiting for?

[Cheeky to the end. Freddy pinches Larry's cheek, the one on his face this time, to emphasize the feeling.]

You're cute.

[Sarcasm. Finally off goes the blindfold so he can lean back up and stare down at the old man as his hips start moving again. It's a relentless rhythm with skin smacking skin to really make this tough guy sing.]

Opened up like a real hornball. [Gulp. Now the kid has to put in double the effort to maintain his swagger.]

[Cute? Cute. He tries to nip at those fingers punching his flesh. Suddenly there's light and he has to blink. No he's not tearing up. Just adjusting. Being about run through makes it harder, okay? The old man tilts his head back and swallows. He's trying not to yell. This is so much better than the skin joint. So much better.]

Oh God. Oh fuck.

[Precum wells at the tip of his cock that's bouncing with the movement.]

That-that all you got tough guy?

Look at you--you're just about...ready to cry.

[Huff huff. Freddy talks smack right back at him, referring to his cock of course. Now a flappy hand wraps around that thick shaft to pump it in time with his thrusts.]

Come on you old fuck. [He can feel his body mashing up against his balls.] Make a mess.

Fuck!

[Larry cranes his neck and it feels like it makes the whole rest of his body curl in. Everything feels so tight and constricted, controlled by the smirking amazing son of a bitch above him.]

Almost. There.

[Excuse him while he grits his teeth. He feels like he's fuckin' dying. Blue balled from the show and dragged along by Freddy the end is in sight.]

[If he could pick Larry up and pin his back to the floor he would but because he can't the chair will just have to do. Oof. The kid wets his lips, a little saliva escapes dropping on Larry's thigh, and pushes in deep again, shortening his strokes to really nail that prostate (it's good for an old man's health). His fingers work in circles around the tip of his cock.]

Now.

[Yeah, as if Freddy actually has the superpower to make Mr. White orgasm at the drop of a hat, or the turn of a fist, or the thrust of his own dick. Hm.]

[Is the kid so sure about that? He's got an excellent form of attack right there. The old bear is fucking shaking with each hit to his prostate. His eyes are squeezed shut with concentration on the feeling, right now he doesn't give a fuck he's on his back and spread open.]

Like that baby. [Huff puff. Oh God, is that saliva? It runs down his skin hotter than sweat, it makes him jolt. Brown eyes fly open and look up at him.]

T-there.

[And that's it. He blows his load all over that hand and his own big body. You can bet that he's constricting mighty tightly on the kid.]

Oh fuck.

[That tightness locks him in deep enough Freddy can only grind against Larry as he milks the rest of his load out. It's hot and he's already lamenting not being able to take it in his own mouth but the feeling's brief. There are other mouths to feed. The mess on his fingers promptly finds its way to Larry's mouth. Both ends.]

Suck on'em. [He shudders.]

[The old man is moaning, shivering and a wreck. Look at your handiwork, Freddy. Grinding doesn't help him catch his breath, his chest rises and falls rapidly.]

Gimme.

[His fingers and his load. His tongue slicks up over his fingertips like it's honey before taking them all in his mouth.]

Mmmm.

log post II

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