whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[If a wildcat is within reach he'll be looking to collar up that kitty with his own arm, thanks.]

Naw, don't think so. People are watchin' me all the time. [Waiting for that LAPD officer to make a mistake.] Anyway if you're there you'll tell'em who's boss, tell'em who can plug me up and who's gotta go home.

[There's another soft 'mmm' as he shifts under Larry.] Am I leakin' yet?

[That's the effect he's after, once Larry's got to vacate the premises, only to see the mark he's left on and in Freddy Newendyke.]

[Collared and domestic wildcat held up by his hand.]

I sure would. Not just any fool with a big dick can go and fuck you.

[Not when this is Larry Dimick's cum dump. Oh fuck. Speaking of which he is starting to feel an extra wet around his cock. As he slips on out with ease he can see some of his own cum slicked over that ass.]

A little.

[Fuck it. Without giving a warning or saying much more at all, the old man is there to clean off what he can see.]

You got that right.

[He shakes his head in a nope nope sort of manner that helps double as a good way for him to brush his hair against any part of Larry he can reach. That is, until the old man's moving farther back along the (somewhat short) length of his body.]

Great--

[Oh. Even better. Tongue to his ass evokes another slow stretched out sigh.] Damn...you know how to treat a guy.

[Lick, lick, lick. As a man who doesn't like cats it is a sort of feline motion the way his breath is slightly ragged. It's mostly the effort. The taste is far more bitter than before. Blame the lube and Larry's own diet.]

How else should I treat my man?

[In case it wasn't apparent yet, Larry's committed to making another go at Freddy however short lived it is. Dick or no dick. The obvious sign might be how he starts to lightly press and pull at his balls before curling fingers around his uncut cock.

No doubts, no regrets...no real devoted thoughts about that fucking day. Mr. White, you can't fuck away the past.]

I'm not doubting you.

[His classic sincerity, his excellent manner, his perfect gesture. What a fucking catch you are, Lawrence Dimick, real fucking--er. Whoa. Freddy presses his cheek to the ground again. His balls are feeling a little more sensitive than his cock, could be the proximity to his prostate.]

You don't have to do that.

[He breathes, clearly reacting to his touch, though not hard again yet. The kid kind of doesn't want to admit he still needs another two minutes tops.]

I want to. [Woah. Is that his voice? It's rough and low. He rests his cheek on Freddy's ass and glides his foreskin up and down. It hasn't been two minutes. Heh.]

You want me to stop, baby?

[Reacting and saying that he doesn't have to... it's a fuzzy area. It's sort of selfish in the end. Larry doesn't want to have to disrupt their happy return home with a break down. The joke is on him though. It'll have to happen. Fucking's not talking. And it is hard to lose yourself in fucking when you can't get it up, goddamn is he trying.

Dark brown hair might tickle against his thigh as Larry tilts his head to lick behind his balls.

A car cruises by too fast to see anything or anyone, it's lights do spill on through the leaves up higher above their heads.]

What.

[That question is so unfair, why would he ever want Larry to stop? Damn. Just when he's about to say more though those lights cruise over them, shining on skin here and there. It's too fast to catch them in their compromising position but it's long enough that it actually makes the kid freeze like he's right in the headlights. His breath hitches in his throat.]

..........

[Well well, seems like that did the trick. The shot of adrenaline starts pricking him up.] Uhhnn...keep doing that.

[Freckled thighs spread to give that snout more room.]

[Pale yellow light really brightens up Freddy. Makes his skin seem like a sort of priceless marble piece except not no distant museum nude. This here is a hot body with needs that another can satisfy. Larry is happy to do it.]

Keep-? This?

[Again lapping right from ring piece to behind his balls then back.]

We gotta find somebody to do this for me while I'm up your ass.

[Sometime. Heh. Traveling down again. He'll stray from the repetition and he really has to loosen his jaw to try and fit a portion of his sac into his maw to suckle. He rests his arm in the dirt for balance.]

Uh huh. Uh huh. [Huff.] That.

[The kid leans back just a little like he's trying to get deeper into the old man's mouth.] You think? Somebody who's not gonna--get hooked on you? [Because Larry's ass is addicting too, Freddy knows this from personal experience.] Shit...

[Look at that. He's stiff again.] Blow me, Larry. Please? You can finger me.

[Not to draw emphasis towards the fact that Freddy knows his dick won't be ready to plow him again or anything.]

[Hooked on him, hooked on them... they say fucking and love is addictive stuff. Larry's sure as hell a mess without a fix. Of course the kid is stiff again, the old man would like to meet the fella that isn't getting the whole treatment. Even after being rocked like a freight train.]

I'll do a little better than that.

[Paws off, hands off. Larry gets down on the dirt and scoots under Freddy. Careful now, kid. This might be a position he's used to being in himself in a garage. A little more moving and then he cranes his neck to take a lick at the tip of his cock. Slowly on up he grips his ass to get him the right sort of angle and space.]

Oh yeah? How?

[Oh. That's how. He crosses his arms in front of himself, using them as a sort of brace against the ground. Yes, Freddy's been in that position before but he's never gone ahead and sucked on a tail pipe.]

Fuck.

[The kid huffs. It takes everything he's got not to just start thrusting into the old man's face. Yet.]

[Not yet? Then the old man's gotta open wide now. Tongue out and curling under his cock. Both hands, one for each cheek, squeeze twice and then rub. The kid wants his dick sucked and he did say fingered. The old man's quite proud to supply both.

Because he's already opened him up, Larry goes with two fingers. It's up to Freddy to set the pace.]

Mmm?

[Now?]

[Maybe.] Oh shit, man.

[Huff and puff. Just as much as he's asking for it he's exercising it too, hips pushing downward into Larry's face, though not quite fucking him yet. Just far in his mouth and spreading so those fingers can dip in with ease. Two at once too.]

Deeper.

[Freddy whines, fully aware how it makes him sound like some kind of insatiable hound.]

[This is out of a man who told him that he didn't have to go on. Hah.

He lets out a shaky sigh. Sizable cock between his lips make it hard to deliver jibes. It'll have to play out on what he does with his other hand. This time be gives his ass a smack. Those two fingers delve on in and curl.]

[Give him an inch and he'll climb all over you, Lawrence Dimick, that's just how this kid works. The smack makes him buck and making his buck means that sizable uncut cock of his stuffs deeper into the old man's mouth. Hopefully Larry saw that coming.]

You're sneaky.

[Freddy insists in a low pleasured hiss. Those fingers are working right up against his prostate.] Bet you just wanna--make sure we're caught with your face covered.

[Oh he did. It still makes his eyes go a little wide feeling more of his girth fit in. Teeth are absolutely kept out of the picture. It's what a true professional does.

He'll play up the benefits of fucking the kid with his fingers. They curl easily and they're gonna each time to directly get his prostate.

What a painting that is. Someone finds em and they gotta pull Mr. Orange off with his erect, wet dick flapping to even look at a guilty, nasty Mr. White. It'd be great to get hard at this very moment. Sure does make a delicious shiver in the pit of his stomach.]

Mmmhmmm.

Jerk.

[Spoken with the greatest of affection for the old man too. The kid manages to settle into a semblance of a rhythm where every thrust first pitches him forward into the other man's mouth only to pull back enough to feel like he's fucking himself on those dexterous professional fingers.]

Did you--always wanna...do me in a park, huh? Like you're cruising for easy ass.

[Why bother asking questions when the guy can't really talk, Newendyke. Freddy can't help bullshitting while he's grinding himself into that face.]

[Paw squeezes his ass so tight and lets go to make like he means to work it to dough. That is nothing close to John Connor. Larry sort of wishes he had a double again to really lay into Freddy with more than two hands. He seems to be getting along rather well in charge. All that talk is asking, begging for more.

Third finger then with harder passes.

Relax that throat, old man. It's gonna get more rough.]

[A third finger is fucking too much but not in a way that begs him to stop. It just makes the kid reach back to hold that paw deep in place while his hips start moving forward at a quicker pace. Fucking thrust fucking thrust. He's sure if it becomes too much for Larry he'll know to tap out because, well, his mouth isn't capable of voicing John Connor at the moment.]

I'm gonna cum, Larry.

[He breathes against the ground. Huff huff puff. It starts with precum first, trickling out, followed by what's left of his load. At the very least it doesn't shoot down his throat like it would on the first go around.]

[Too much to take longer. That trickle of precum eventually settles to his tongue rather than down his throat. He doesn't let up. Though breathing in the smell of sweat, cum and their bodies with regulating his breathing is getting the old man a little light headed. Fingers are stick tight to his prostate. He loves being held by Freddy's hand and his body.

Damn. There it is. Larry swallows all he's got to give. He's got the technique down. Unlike when he was a teenager. No need to clutch on his ass anymore so he lightly grips and massages the kid's balls, in case there is anything left in there to stimulate.]

[It's like holding hands all over again except now he's the one doing the pounding instead of Larry. Those fingers, thick as they are, sure ain't as thick as his cock. However positioned like this maybe the old man gets a better idea of just how much he makes the kid tremble. Those freckled reddened thighs are shaking a little with each grind. Suffice it to say, the way he palms his balls milks every last drop out. If he can't knock Larry up ain't no one else gonna get the chance. His load belongs to Lawrence Dimick.]

Fuck, man... [Freddy sighs.] .....I'm exhausted.

[Man oh man. This handsome motherfucker is shaking inside and out. Larry loves being able to do this to him. For all the misgivings he has, he can satisfy his baby completely. One last grind before he starts to pull back those fingers. Since Freddy's got a grip he has reason to instruct him otherwise.

A fresh load is settling in his own body, differently than the kid of course but he would call them even. There's something calming and satisfying about being able to hold in your man's whole load. After all, it's not something handed over. It has to be earned.

Exhausted means no panic attack at home. Pink knows. They've got one another tighter than handcuffs.

Pat pat to his hip as he turns his head to finally be able to speak.]

Too exhausted to shower?

[Hopefully not. They're filthy.]

M-maybe...

[Freddy pants. Oh damn feeling those fingers leave him evokes another low hiss. Is there cum spread between his thighs now? Worked out of him by gravity and all the fucking pawing Larry did? Carefully he rolls over onto his back, hands free and deliberately avoiding kneeing the old guy in the head.]

C'mere.

[He beckons. For a kiss. Pink is the farthest thing from his mind right now. All Freddy can think about is how he's going to half to walk back home like this, all fucked out. It's a nice thought.]

[There sure is cum threatening to roll down his skin. It was mighty helpful keeping three fingers going. Beautiful mess. No doubt Freddy's gonna feel some of it.]

Yeah?

[As if he doesn't think more is coming. Holy hell, all that and still a welcomed, wanted kiss.

How in the fuck could the old man do without Freddy Newendyke? Knowing what he knows, seen where they've been and wanting to head wherever it is they're going... He can quit the casino if the heat is too much. If they gotta move because Pink might stir up shit? Then so what.

Was all that enough to cause a limp? This the old bear wants to see.]

Uh huh.

[Now give it here, Dimmy. Freddy reaches out to draw Larry's face close to his, against his, mouths pressed together then parting so he can lick the taste of himself off the insides of his cheek, off his tongue. Just fucking everything about him. Where a limp is concerned, well, they can't know until the kid's on his feet and for the time being he'd rather just sit on the floor with the old man for a moment longer. Thank you.]

Mmm...you're crazy. [He reiterates his remark from earlier.] I love it.

[And you.]

But I ain't no madman.

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