whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Okay, baby.

[Boss man. Mr. Orange.

Hands fixed doesn't mean he can't make it happen. The man said fetch. Larry kisses his knee and then works on standing up. They got some gun oil on the table. On a split second decision he decides to take it into his mouth and bring it over. Takes some trial and error.

Don't rush, old man. After all his new get up has him held and hard.

Back he comes now to place it between Freddy's legs. With his mouth.]

[Like a good good dog, a big old dog willing to please. Can they train bears the same way? Seems like. Nonetheless Freddy quirks a brow over Larry's retrieval, like he's trying to assess if Larry wants to impress him or challenge him.]

Turn around, feet shoulder width apart.

[He picks up the gun oil and pops the cap off to squeeze an amount right into his freckled hand.]

[Bears are usually trained with whips and noises ain't they? At least that's what they do in the circuses he's seen in his time. Simply asking and making sure they know the reward seems too simple. Freddy is thoroughly taming. He's had experiences.

Does it have to be impressing or a challenge? Larry hopes that he is impressed and ready to dish out more. This old body can take whatever he can dream up...most of the time.]

Like that?

[Miami Vice is over. Now it's some sort of a nature program about the migration of sea turtles. The old man is straining his ears to hear the pop of the cap and try to determine what will happen next over the sounds of the sea and the mildly bored commentary.]

[Educational shit. Background noise. No sweat. It's better than a cowboy picture coming up and competing with Freddy for Larry's attention. Well the kid's not taking any chances. He caps the gun oil then tosses it aside, eager to get right down to business, and business is gripping Larry's ass to hold him in place while his lube slick fingers push between his thighs. First around his hole, second dipping into him.]

Just like that, Larry.

[Freddy wastes no time in pushing the whole length of his index finger in, the better to feel around for Larry's prostate. Oh there it is. He rubs on it.]

Fuck. [It's a groan if thanks as well as damning the process. Not like the kid can just go on in at once. Well, that is until he goes at it with a finger. Trim, flappy Newendyke fingers.]

Oh fuck.

[One whole finger isn't a whole dick. Larry tries to tilt his hips without tipping over. Thick, hairier thighs are shaking. Rubbing the pad of one finger alone is rocking his world.]

Open me up.

[Please. Gulp.]

Edited 2012-01-25 08:38 (UTC)

Like this?

[Here's a second finger, Lawrence Dimick. It's his middle finger, making it two digits pressing on his prostate now. Freddy makes it look like it's standard procedure, opening another man's ass up.]

[Knees gotta lock. Don't want to fall right on his face or nothing. He can't hide any hiss or moan as Freddy works with two.]

Dammit.

[Each pass has him fighting to not rock on them.]

C'mon.

[Is that what this is turning into? Making the old man beg for his cock because he didn't jump all over him the minute he got home? Larry tenses his ass around those fingers.]

[The shortest and simplest answer is yes, followed by a coy maybe. Seeing the way Larry tries not to totter too far though evokes some sympathy in the kid. He switches his grip from his rear to the harness.]

Better?

[Oh he knows that's not what Dimmy really wants. He knows.]

[The man's not even seeing the big blue or the sea turtles he's craning his neck to look on over his shoulder. No change at all at what's going on up inside him. There's a strained, exasperated sigh.]

Freddy.

[Pant. Pant. Seriously, Dimick. Is that all you got. Reach deep down and stick it out. Deep down is where those fingers are rubbing and pressing. It feels amazing, there's no hesitation to how he's touching on this big old man. Fingers are not filling him the way he wants.]

No. Come on. Get on with it.

[Heh heh heh. Just look at him, Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick. Mr. White the fucking professional wanting to get fucked. These two fingers slip on out of him then wipe themselves 'clean' on Larry's side. Not the inked side, Freddy's kind to the royalty there. Tug to the harness as he stands too, then he lets go of Larry.]

Get down on your knees. [Cop voice.] Kiss the table or kiss the floor. Your choice.

[More kindness extended in his direction by giving him options. The truth is Freddy also can't wait to sink into the old man's ass. He's so often not the one testing the limits to his tightness he's practically a vice to Orange every time. Okay that might be an exaggeration but how many men can say they get to shove their dick up Mr. White's ass? Honestly how many?]

[Nice to know that he got out a response without directly begging. That was still more than what he wanted to let on. Oh well. Results are results. Even if he did want to go to the next step losing those fingers and going empty about takes his breath away.

The table would be more kind to his body later. Too far. Too much more waiting.]

Anythin' else?

[As he's getting down on his knees and then tilting until his cheek is to the floor. Damn authoritative. That's the kind of barking command you'd think would have highly reflective sunglasses.

That bare, tight ass is angled and exposed. His cock is still framed in leather and hanging. Usually it's fixing to get buried in the kid's ass. Few would guess that Lawrence Dimick is bent, an even smaller amount would guess that he's so eager to have a wiry, shorter man do the plowing. What does Mr. White care? Freddy makes him feel amazing.

How many men shoved up Mr. White? It's not a long list at all. No names are worth saying right now.]

How's the view?

Good...real good. [Smack to the ass being presented to him. And reaching farther to stroke that neglected cock.] This turtle outsmarted a fuckin' shark.

[Heh heh heh.]

[Waiting, waiting. Still waiting.]

Shit. [Those lightly lube coated fingers now on his dick?]

What are you talking about?

[All the frustration is apparent now. He can't twist right to look into Freddy's face.]

Aren't you gonna fuck me man? Ain't your cock all wet and ready?

[There's more of a slip on his own control. The touch of his hand isn't bad on his cock. Again he's focused on what could be. Larry's almost wishing for those fingers again for there to be something up his ass.]

[Teehee.] Nothin' babe.

[Stroke stroke stroke. Heh heh. Okay time to let go of that handsome thick cut cock to wet his own again. It may not have dried out while he was dicking around but it's always better to be safe than sorry with his old man. Freddy pumps his fist over his own erection to coat it with lube.]

I'm gonna fuck you.

[He says affectionately to serve as a contrast to the way he starts pushing the tip into Mr. White.]

[Stroking while he's riled and fixed up to stay hard with that cock ring is really a sensation that gets him wet with sweat. When that stops he waits, listening and panting.]

Give it to me, man.

[Blunt and curved sides slipping on in, it's a prayer answered. He waited for this. No shower masturbation or rubbing on anything. Since he can't do anything with his arms or...well, the rest of him Dimick has his voice.]

Freddy, gimme all of your cock.

Okay.

[There's that near submissive concession Freddy just loves to give Larry coupled with a dominant push of his cock down to at least halfway in the old man's ass. God he's tight, tight and riled up. The best way to serve him, really. Then he's pushing all the way to the base of his shaft, pushing until they're flush up against each other and Freddy can grind against him.]

I bet you love it. Do you?

[The kid rubs his hands up along the expanse of his body, feeling every muscle, ghosting over leather straps. He finds the center of his back, above where his hands are caught together, and uses this spot for leverage to just start fucking him. No warnings given.]

[Okay. Okay like it's a simple, everyday thing. Hah. Well, it is to them. This faggot lifestyle they've stumbled on into. Fits so well, so comfortably. Talking about fit though, Freddy is right up his ass so quick.]

I love it. [He swallows but it doesn't make his voice feel any less rough or cut the short low moans that are forming with each breath. His voice carries more with each new portion that he gets.

Freddy Newendyke is a fucking world class MVP. Grinding, gripping and having his way with a grown man like he was a lump of clay.]

Oh fuck. [Back arcs and legs spread to meet his pace. Larry's wishing now he had a mirror or something to be able to catch how well this man is making a mess of him, beating him like a drum.]

Good.

[Huff huff puff. He's slamming into the old man like the athlete he is. Freddy Newendyke might be smaller but he's no laughing matter, neither in cock size nor in how he knows to use his body to its fullest potential. If he can't make those hips roll on every single impact the way Larry can when he's fucking Freddy, he'll make sure there's only the slimmest fraction of a second between each thrust. That's what being young is good for, not to say the old man ain't a fucking champ either.]

Think I'm gonna work you loose, huh?

[More cocky swagger there. He punctuates his question with another hard grind only to take his cock out entirely, then squeeze it back in. And take it back out. To squeeze it back in. For his old man's sake, these thrusts do have merciful pauses between them.]

[Fucking tough, rough trade rolling asshole using simple words. He can't laugh or protest. Why fucking bother. Now and then he slides a few fractions of an inch closer to the ground. Pound after pound he is so grateful for what he's got.]

N-no. [Loose? Come on. No way. ...Maybe. No out comes first. Shit. that is lip. The first pull out is so sudden he practically whines. The pace is broken, his prostate has a chance to throb without being laid on into. Back again, and the fit is all but collapsing in on itself. Kinda like a re-entry the first two times he does it.]

Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me?

[Clearly not. But still. Larry swallows. Even though his hands are bound they claw as though he can grip something.]

Bullshit you can take it.

[Freddy argues, barely able to cover the shudder in his own voice because great goddamn is it good and fuck's sake he looks amazing like this. In again. Out again. In again. Out again. In again. Then he stays in Larry to continue fucking him. He's a merciful guy, this Orange. He's going to change up his own posture though, set on his freckled feet so he can reach over and pin Larry's head to the ground. Freddy's hips keep moving, thrusts shorter at this angle but so deep in his ass that probably shouldn't matter.]

I-I can' take it baby. Uh huh.

[Shit does his voice feel rough and uneven. Of course he's gotta say it in the duration of a pull out and then push in.]

That's a big, beautiful dick.

[All the panting. He's damn sure that the words are just a pretty song played. Freddy knows what he's doing and is intent to keep on going. The resuming steady fucking pace even has him mumbling a thanks to God.]

Fuck. Mmm. Yeah, man. Like that.

[So damn deep. While he's up on his feet and Larry's on the ground, who's the bigger man now?]

Flattery's not gonna help you, tough guy. [Boasts the kid with a big beautiful dick. Huff puff.] It ain't--big like yours either...and you're snipped.

[Cut and still thicker and longer than the average white man. What did Lawrence Dimick do to deserve it? Doesn't a life of crime mean bad karma or something? Some guys get all the breaks. But right now is Freddy's time to glow and boy is he glowing. He's reddened and dewy from all this exertion, all this satisfaction from having White tight around him. Fuck he's got a cock ring on and Freddy's pretty sure he won't be able to do multiple rounds without the second performance paling in comparison to the first. He's got to slow down. Slow down and grind. These freckled hands walk their way back from his face to his shoulders, his back, then his hips as Freddy pulls out.]

You're--red.

[He remarks, referring to his actual asshole and not just the rest of him. Loud slap to his ass. The next thing that slips inside Lawrence Dimick isn't his dick or his fingers, it's that firm dexterous thing called Orange's tongue. His fingers are too busy wrapping around Larry's cock to jerk him.]

[But Freddy, it's not the guys fault that each time you push on in after pulling out it's like you've grown an extra inch in both directions.]

Coulda fooled me.

[Gulp. When you're brought into this world you don't get much of a choice of whether or not you wanna get cut. Same goes for whether or not you want cock of any kind. Here he is though. His hair is gray and his back can be lousy at times, and it's hard to get a steady relationship when you're a criminal. All this time he was looking the wrong way.

Freddy Newendyke wants him. He planned this in his head, could have been all weekend while he hand his big English hands to himself.

Pulling out, pushing in, grinding. His skin feels hot. That beautiful uncut cock is doing a number to his prostate. Part of the thrill and agony is that he can't see the action for himself. No longer filled up with cock or even fingers?]

Shit. Freddy---[Red ass tenses after that smack. Cheek to the floor and ass angled in the air, he didn't see that tongue coming. His eyes about roll up into his head. There's gonna be a several wet spots on the floor from sweat and saliva alone.]

Goddammit.

[Sure it ain't no cock or dick but the way he's eating his man out it's like he's digging into the tastiest grease trap dinner there ever was, or Grade A prime rib if Larry prefers being compared to something classier. His stroking on this hard dick is firm and even too, not fast or slow, just moderate enough to keep those eyes rolling until he feels like putting his dick back in him. Not yet.]

Tell me what you like.

[He insists before taking a breath then pressing his tongue along his balls. Right back up to dip in his hole again. Whether or not being jacked off is one of the things Larry likes, Freddy is neglecting his cock now to work on undoing just his wrist restraints. Let the old man regain some movement, he's pretty sure those broad shoulders might need a massage tomorrow.]

[He feels like a greasy spoon dish being pawed and slurped by one hungry dog. That thick dick the kid so admires feels so rock hard and snugly fit into the cock ring. Precum is trying to squeeze on out with each pass of his fist. With few allowances for movement maybe the kid can tell that he's trying to rock back onto his tongue and into his fist, that or he's shaking like mad.]

Shit I love your mouth. Oh God. [Grunt. Swallow. Huff.] A-and your cock.

[Gulp.]

Everything.

[Being a big man fixed into place. Pretty fucking symbolic. That's what you do to him, Freddy. He might call the shots and treat you good as gold but he's the one who feels so damn spoiled and lucky. How sentimental. No Hallmark card ever had this kind of a photo on the front.

With hands free he'll press one to the floor the other one wants to grip onto that man's hair. Long hair is gonna stick to the sweat of his palm. He's about drenched.]

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