whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Leaving the snug warmth of his ass was easy to do because he didn't think about it. The act of has him moaning. Fox like swiftness doesn't keep him awash in what he's lacking for long. Swift as he may be he does catch the spunk clinging to his body. Damn.]

Use me, tough guy. Use me right on up.

[Paws rub on up his thighs like how they started. While he's upright he takes to pinching at his nipples. Freddy beats him to beating off. Since it's all taken care of he wraps his arms around this man to keep him close. He can taste the second he comes.]

Edited 2012-03-22 00:38 (UTC)

[The shuddering and erratic panting pours right into Larry's mouth for the way his thick shaft fills up his ass nice and tight, how his paws pinch and pull at his chest, how his arms then circle the kid, holding him like he's fucking dying. His own cock leaves a wet mess between them that Freddy has no qualms spreading as his torso rubs right up against Larry. It's still an early evening, there's a shower they can share later on.]

Mmph, fuck, used you right up...

[The writhing subsides to slow heavy grinding, almost like he's thrusting between the muscles that stretch across the old man's broad torso.]

[Pinching, pulling, clutching with two hands if only he had more. They would be all over this man. Wet with sweat and cum he couldn't be happier laying here. Well. Not quite laying. Even though he's spent he is grinding right on with Freddy.]

S'all I'm good for.

[Before he's diving in for another kiss. He won't be hard for long and even when he's not Freddy's got a grip on him, makes grinding heaven one way or the other.]

Had it coming after using you. Except...I know you got more in you.

[Which is why they got Colossus.]

You're good for a lot of things, man.

[Freddy argues into his mouth, punctuating his remark with another solid 'mmph' and 'oofm' as if the actual words really matter. It all amounts to how much he fucking loves Lawrence Dimick and loves to fuck him too. All that grinding's going to have to come to an end but the kid's gonna milk the moment for all it's worth until they have to separate.]

Think so? [Mouths first.] What if...need a break.

[His tone carries mild strain on that second part as he wills his hips and thighs to lift up then off Mr. White. Gravity's made a white mess there, sticking and still sort of stringing between them. It's a pleasing image and feeling for Freddy Newendyke.]

What if getting used by you is one of my favorite things?

[Or addictions. Both are very accurate. Larry grips at Freddy's ass cheeks as though he is helping him pull away. He's not. It's a joy to feel his muscles work to pull himself up and off.]

I could give you a break. Just keeps you coming on back for more.

[Larry tilts his head to watch the mess of webbing between them. That's his doing. He appreciates it like a lewd piece of art that it is.]

Fuck, Freddy.

[It makes him lick his chops.]

You could use some cleaning.

I'd think you've got some seriously weird tastes.

[And if Larry favoring being used by him wasn't enough of an indicator the implications of him licking his chops is. The kid doesn't even question it as he turns around, crawling on the bed on all fours until his ass is up and ready again. Freddy's not one to talk either, honestly because he doesn't even wait for Larry to do anything before hooding his mouth over his dick. Being the foxy kind of guy he is one could say he might have planned this all along to be pleasant.]

Me?

[From one orifice to another. Larry lets out a long sigh.]

Why's that-?

[Nope. Never mind. He's not gonna bother finishing. Let the kid do what he set on out to do. Hairy legs spread to allow more room for him. His sensitive cock is getting the best after party.]

Cuz.

[Bully for you, Dimmy, because this flappy handed freckle faced kid is gonna talk anyway. That's just another talent of his, being able to flap his jaws while taking slow deliberate licks at the old man's shaft. One right after the other.]

You like it.

[He dares Mr. White to say he doesn't enjoy watching young new(?) recruit Orange taste him after he's been not just up his ass but unloaded too.] You imagine this shit after tacos, huh?

[He truly is a poor and bested bear. Larry pants softly. Now and then he gets something like an after shock shooting right from his groin and shaking on up his insides. He blames the kid.]

Love it, you mean.

[This is yet another one of those camera worthy moments.]

Uh huh. Y'know me too well.

[Then and now. He hasn't stopped wanting Mr. Orange.]

[As dirty as it seems it's all about Lawrence Dimick, Larry who went off to work not feeling so hot, seeing what he saw, feeling what he felt, calling Freddy and wanting to meet him back home, then coming home bothered and not in the usually fun way. The way this younger man's tongue ghosts from his softening cock back to his torso to clean up the mess he left there is all about making the old man feel better. Don't feel like such a psycho, Mr. White, you're not like those other guys. Mr. Orange wouldn't do this with them. Of course that begs the question how much does this all really mean when Freddy's no saint either and maybe not even that great of a cop or a human being, but he doesn't think about that, not as long as it makes Larry comfortable.]

There.

[A lick to his own lips. Green eyes are looking over at brown ones. Did he get the job done?]

[Dirty deeds done for free. Freddy might think that the old man is always taking care of him but times like right now, he is really putting to bed all of his worries and woes so efficiently. He wouldn't have a cop like this in his arms if he were a psychopath or street scum. Orange might have a moral dilemma about himself, White knows that he's a good man. It reminds him of times when cops were good people in his head, not people who pick and choose what laws to abide by and which to fuck people.]

You missed a spot.

[The old man taps his own lips. Who needs a saint when you've got Freddy Newendyke that you can touch, talk to and pull you up when you're down? Nobody talks about fucking saints.]

Huh.

[Freddy sounds like he can't imagine how that happened at all. Another shrug follows then he's leaning right into Larry again to press their mouths together, firm and long lasting. Freckled arms drape around him as if he might decide to just sprawl here for another half hour or two, doing nothing except breathing in the air that smells like fresh sex. And a hint of the old man's cologne or whatever it is he uses to keep his room smelling like something in addition to Chesterfields.]

But I ain't no madman.

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