whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[In the meantime, the old man will lean forward and kiss at his shoulder and neck.]

Picture or whatever...

[He'll let the kid even operate it since he's more handy. It'll be his own private video. No one else's.

His skin is salty and hot. Larry hopes that in the summer doesn't wait so long. The season change lets them go out more, the days are longer too.]

[Oh. Ohhhhhh. Oh that feels good too. Ahem. He fumbles with the phone to put it on the right move, which is filming. Holy shit he's really going to film them fucking in a car. Even though he has NO INTENTION of showing this to anyone ever, the fact that the camera's rolling so to speak is a great big fucking thrill. In position again, Freddy's got a tight firm grip on the phone.]

Keep fuckin' me, cowboy.

[It's angled down to keep the action in frame, mostly belly, cock, and ass. Without any real knowledge of the two the video would seem to star just a pair of royal cards. Oh wait there's a climbing panther sort of moving in and out of the frame.]

Y'got it, Sheriff.

[Muffled into the crook of his neck. Could distort voice, to people who don't know. Back into motion again. It's a small camera phone...device. So it is as though they're fucking again without it. He is feeling a higher high knowing that this can be played back any time the kid wants.

Hard, fast, not much time at all between deep passes at Freddy's prostate. Grunting and moaning don't wait much longer. He's on edge]

Fuck!

God. Fuck yes.

[No names, Newendyke, no names. You know, just in case or something. The way he's getting slammed there's just no way to hold the camera still. It's got some shakiness going on but he's doing his damnedest to capture their bodies moving together. That is, until Freddy starts coming.]

Shit shit. [All that precum that was leaking out's turned a milky white.] Put your hand on me, baby.

[Come on and let him hear it, kid. It's loud like a favorite rock and roll chorus. Larry may know the words but that doesn't mean he's sick of hearing it.]

That's it. Keep coming.

[Gulp. Look who's talking, Dimick? There's a paw that can work Freddy's cock. Might show a flash of a tattoo now and then. Stroke, stroke, stroking, milking out every drop from the outside as well as the inside.]

Fucking shit, you're so tight. I'm gonna blow it.

[His pace is growing ragged if that's any other tell about how close he is.]

Edited 2012-02-01 08:04 (UTC)

Ahhh shit....

[Look at this limber freckled body writhing up and down on his cock and making a mess of his heavy hand. They're lucky none of it flicks onto his phone.]

You got all of me, man. Now I gotta get all of you. [Freddy breathes heavily, rear grinding into his lap again.] Come on, how do you want it?

[Fucking dirty movie this is.]

Stay on my dick.

[Huff. Puff. He strokes up the kid's stomach mess or no mess.]

My cum is gonna go up your ass.

[And that's about all the warning that Mr. Orange is going to get. The body beneath and him up inside is shaking. Age has got nothing to do it. Any man would with Freddy. No telling that though. Guest stars and lead roles only.

Now there is filmed proof that Mr. White enjoys fucking Mr. Orange.]

Oh yeah. [Moaning. Here, he'll shallowly thrust to ensure that he's pumped out every bit.]

Like I wanna get off?

[He quips with a smirk for the ironic twist there. Heh. The smugness is so brief though in one second it's gone because Larry's putting his back right into fucking him again.]

Jesus.

[Praise the fucking Lord. Freddy might have already unloaded but that doesn't stop the effect a cock passing over and over his prostate has on his body. He's fucking shaking, moaning too much for more witty words and the phone's catching the whole damn thing.]

[Thrusting slows to rough grinding. Gotta make sure none of his load gets out at all.]

How's it feel, man?

[Pant. Pant. If he was feeling warm before now the old man's definitely coated with a sheen of sweat. He sweats a little more than Freddy on average. Paws, dirty and clean are trying to pull at the kid to get a kiss. It might be fucking up the camera work.]

Fuckin' hot piece of ass.

Fuck...

[How can you ask that kind of question when his ass is tight around your fat cock, old man? Seriously. Huff puff. The phone's filming falls out of focus for a moment as he grinds with Lawrence Dimick. Ass to lap and mouth to mouth.]

Real [Muffled.] good...

[Yeah, Freddy knows it's for the audio too, make it real raunchy.]

[Darker still tanned skin with pale and freckled moving together in the frame should not leave much more to the imagination after what was captured.]

S'how I love it.

[Making all hard and heavy topics and issues disappear for the time. It's like a drug. Fucking won't fix a thing. They go at it as though one of these times it will.]

That's a wrap Mr. Director?

[Muffled at Freddy's mouth. His thin lips parting again to head on into his mouth.]

[He'd answer but his mouth is a bit occupied with tasting his tongue, the inside of his cheek, those teeth. And then there's the feeling of his cock acting like a goddamn plug to make sure this kid gets knocked up. So good, that's the only way to put it. Mmph, okay finally he leans his head back enough to talk.]

Okay.

[Yep. That's the line Freddy chooses to have as the last second of their video. Go figure. Not that he intends to find an audience for it or anything...]

[Larry breathes out in a long, slow and satisfied sigh.]

Somethin' better on there for you.

[Psychopaths to the left of them, spider women to the right. Here they are.

Good thing they're even too because waiting for whatever sort of a revenge the kid had. The longer it's meditated the harder the hit. At least that's been his experience. One hard and nuts truth for another.

What now? Well, now they stay in the back seat awhile.]

Y'can save that for when you're bored of your stash.

[Because the camera's no longer rolling these freckled fingers are free to stroke through the damp hair at the back of the old man's head. His fingertips are kneading gently into his scalp. A shower's on the agenda later. Maybe. Depends on how the kid feels.]

You're givin' me ideas.

[Freddy huffs gently in 'warning' like now that he's got a taste for video he might just make another. One could say this all started with a polaroid and a red bandana. Larry's proving himself to be a tough gateway drug.]

[When did it start really? The night after briefing. That was it. The mind isn't fucking good enough.]

Uh oh. Are they still there?

[His head nudges this way and that to get the best of that combing and massaging.]

Might not be too late to get em loose.

[As he gets back to Freddy's waist. He'll help with the pull off. When he's ready that is. They can quit whenever they want. Except why would they even?

These sort of kinks keep going in different directions. They can still go at it with nothing more though, it's just some fun. Larry does have his worries that the kid is gonna get bored. But then he gets his bones jumped.]

Maybe.

[He remarks, casual-like. It probably started with baseball though that's no gateway drug for Freddy Newendyke at all, nope nope. Hey the way Larry's moving he may as well be scratching a beardog behind the ears.]

No way, you gotta build up a little time between shows.

[Make them like episodes of a series, hehehe. Mmph, those paws are a good help in getting the kid to lift off on one, two, three. Freddy gives a thin moan for the loss of fullness.] Damn...

Smart ass.

[He's highly encouraged by all of this lip. Highly.]

You're the one who knows show business so.

[Shrug. Larry hisses briefly. He's going soft but that doesn't make Freddy's ass any less snug or make him want to come on out easy.

Wanna smoke or head on out when we're more put together.

[Not that he's rushing at all. The kid is off of his cock but that don't mean he's gone away.]

[Seeing as how this ain't a company car that should mean it's okay for Freddy's freckled rear to scoot to the opposite side of the backseat, back to the door, feet up to rest on Larry's lap. He's careful to avoid that dick of course.]

I wanna smoke.

[See this hand making a grabby motion? He wants you to light him up, old man. Sometimes it's just nice to sit back and relax, forget about all that shit outside their car with its burger and fries trash, traces of cum on the seats. If Larry can't tell Freddy's not gonna be bored with him by now well who knows who can help the guy. The same can be said of the kid and his subconscious worry one day Mr. White will grow impatient with him and leave until Freddy grows up. Don't seem like today though.]

Sure, Spielberg.

[Grabby motion gets results. Freddy doesn't even need to touch the cigarette. It's at his lips and lit in the next moment. Now there'll be fresh cigarette smoke with the fast food and sex, a real grimy cocktail. Who'd believe these fucks go to very expensive restaurants?

Whether it's the magic of the City, the sheer familiarity and comfort of an alliance or they're actually synchronized--their life together just works. No matter what fear and doubt is looming behind, it's not enough to pay any serious mind.]

But I ain't no madman.

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