whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[That particularly hard grind gets him to really let out a long moan. Just a common effect of Freddy Newendyke.]

If you're not sure... [The grinding and fucking sweetness of his face covered with kisses makes him trail off and even forget the point.]

Yeah, well. I'm not sure what we'll do until midnight up here. Heh.

[A paw smooths up Freddy's shirt to his back.]

How about we take forty winks. Then, I dunno. You can tell me about your day.

[Talk. That would be good. That's what all the racket prevents.]

[If it weren't for the chair he'd try wrapping his legs around the old man's waist.]

Okay.

[The kid smiles before throwing in another suggestion.] In the park or at the beach?

[They can't possibly have any racket out there, right?]

[They can try that trick at home some uncursed day.]

How about the beach?

[One more peck to his stately nose.]

I was thinkin' it's getting cold. Pretty soon we might have hockey weather.

[The lingering cool weather now is still suited for other sports. Those can be anywhere. Beach or park.]

Were you up for football or just thinking of a walk?

[This time of year all the sunlight they got should be savored.]

Okay. [He nods under that peck of a kiss.] The beach.

[Oh really now, Lawrence Dimick. Freddy has to cock a brow at this question.] You want me to play football after this?

[He leans back enough to point where the old man is still buried deep in this kid's ass.] I think we're just goin' for a walk.

[Oh. That. Heh. He smiles sheepishly and pulls the kid on back closer to him.]

Not today.

[Though he kinda got caught up in doing something else. There would be a tired ol' bear in the mix if it were true. Huff.]

Tomorrow sound good?

[Pulling him in like that makes the old man rub against the kid's prostate in a certain satisfying way, evoking a low hum from Freddy.]

Tomorrow might be different. [He concedes, willing to pass, tackle, and do a yard dash if he's not walking funny.] It sounds good.

[He'd be happy to do it again if it feels so good except that would mean letting him go so soon.]

Tomorrow it is. Are you gonna play for the Raiders? 49ers?

[Paws can lend a hand if the kid is ready to sit on just lap, not cock.]

Raiders.

[He remembers when they moved from Oakland to LA so. Also with those paws on him Freddy manages to lift up and off with a tight sigh so he's sitting on just lap, but his jeans and everything else remain just off his rear. Anyone walking in on them now couldn't mistaken them for anything else but cocksuckers.]

Greenbay?

Guilty as charged.

[No, really Freddy. A man who has no shame in rooting for the Brewers he feels like he should like the another underdog. Not this go round though. After lowering the kid down comfortably, Larry rubs his bare thighs.

Just a couple of gays flaunting their obscene lifestyle in public.]

You know, maybe we could get jerseys one of these times.

[Baseball or football. ...Hockey perhaps? Well, Freddy first needs to be up on the hockey kick. The old bear hopes that this season he'll come around.]

You act like I don't got one already.

[A Dodgers shirt. He has one and you better believe it, Lawrence Dimick. Briefly he wonders about the politics of fucking in one. Sure he has no doubt Larry would bend him over in a Dodgers cap but what if the kid slammed him up against a wall in his Dodgers tee? Hmm.]

I meant another one with a real team.

[There. He said it. Smirking all the while. In case if Freddy tries to get off he squeezes his ass.]

You gotta like other teams, baby. I know you do.

..........

[These caramel green eyes are narrowing even with the squeeze to his rear. Those paws, they do nothing. This freckled fist though, it gives a short firm cuff to that shaved jaw.]

I like other teams. Just not your team. [SHRUG.]

[The unabashed smugness don't last long. His head turns with that brief cuff.]

Sometimes I really question your taste, kid.

[Still squeezing. Kneading. That was quite a reaction.]

Do them Dodgers get you hot or something? Or just an old playground favorite that won't quit?

[Like some people.]

Do you?

[He slaps a hand firmly on a paw now but not to remove it, merely to emphasize what other tastes Freddy has, including a taste for one Lawrence Dimick.]

It gets me hot seein' you get worked up whenever I talk about'em or see'em, like you think I'm ready to grab my knees for'em.

Uh huh. Though they're not bad. Not where it counts.

[Don't kiss him yet. The impulse is right there but it feels like a little too soon. Grip on his paw reassures him that it's all fun and games.]

That's because I know that those piss poor Dodgers don't deserve a diehard like you. Knee grabbin' or not. If I ever catch you doing that for any Dodger, you'll be really fuckin' sorry.

[Still on this cold rooftop. No rush to that walk when they're having a good ol' time here.]

How sorry?

[Yep, he's asking. It's a little too crisp and chilly for a second round but he wants to hear it from Larry's mouth anyway. Maybe it can form the game plan for tomorrow.]

You won't be just walking funny, I can tell you that. And it won't be over so quick.

[Now he'll seal the deal with a kiss. Whenever it'll be he'll make it worth it. That's just the Lawrence Dimick way of going about things.]

But I ain't no madman.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject