whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[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.]

[Dirty, filthy, messy and perfect.]

Y'drive me crazy.

[Like no one else. And he can't fucking help himself. All that tasting and searching with his mouth is the best pay off. He wants to pat on his head but let's be honest, his hands are pretty grimy.]

...how much does somebody gotta pay if they're caught like that?

[By the cops.]

Don't know.

[Freddy says between kisses. Yes his hands are filthy, sure don't mean he minds Larry wiping them off on his shirt. His shirt is still on after all. That just makes their tryst look all the more like someone's been cruising for quick action. But here, Lawrence Dimick, he brings his shirt up to help wipe those paws.]

Kinda depends on the look, the skill.

[It's a joke in the heat of the moment. This officer would never accept such a bribe, hopefully this crook gets that.]

Bullshit.

[He's got to know being a cop. Larry thinks he's being coy. Oh. That is pretty helpful. Damn. They look like two guys who made eye contact and wanted action. Sort of true.

Now that his paws are clean...the first thing he does is fish for his network device. Shit. He left it at the apartment. Not too smart if there had been trouble. He sheepishly smiles.]

You're a hell of a sight.

[Fucking beautiful disaster.]

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it took some skill.

[Better at the apartment than being left on the whole time, really. Besides, that's what Freddy's device is for which he still has in his pocket somewhere. On but not recording, thank you.]

Nothing comes free you know.

[The kid remarks, calling bullshit on 'bullshit' because seriously this ain't no dog and pony show. However, for the compliment he offers that coy smile.] You think so? Things look pretty great from here too.

[He may not have had his ass wrecked but the old man's mouth was solely his to mine. Nor does Larry need to be hard for him to focus on his behind as a chaser either. Just saying.]

But I ain't no madman.

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