whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[The slow teasing pace combined with the sudden changes in temperature has the kid fucking shivering in his seat and it's not from a chill. Well it kind of is, but not an illness inducing chill unless they want to call what Larry gives Freddy a fucking fever.]

No...not--all the time.

[Breath easy, Newendyke, he'll get to mouthing you soon. Freckled fingers reach out to comb through peppered brown hair.] Wanna put somethin' in me?

[So sue him for being a fiend of having things up his ass.]

[Shivering is just how he wants him. A little pay back.]

Hm. We could beat that I think. [Fist works a little harder before slowing. Heh. Because of the implications.]

I always do. [Let him hold that thought while he hoods the tip of his cock to suck a few beats.] Are my fingers enough for you baby? I don't got a spare dick in my pocket.

[Fingers let him feel first hand and have a shit ton of control.]

[Payback. Fff. He hopes Larry gets it in his head to ice his nipples and yet he hopes Larry doesn't get that idea at all. Freddy's not sure if he can take it and he wants to shoot a load, not a dry blank. A dry blank doesn't count towards his goal of getting four orgasms in such a short period of time.]

Shit you think? How?

[Oh fuck his breath is hitching again. Look at how that cock of his is already hardening up, not quite at full mast but not at all soft.] Your--fingers are fine, Larry...just, you know...if you wanna see--fuck. Anything.

[Oh it's obvious. And he's got several bits of ice floating to make use of. It's all going to come into play one way or the other.

All that talk abut blowing more, it's bravado. It would be nice. The old man would really have to up his game. Some sort of Olympic training. Once at dawn and the real game at night.]

Train. Work our way up. I think we got potential. [His fist goes at it again a few times feeling him grow harder.]

Think I'd see more than feel.

[Another sip of water. Another ice cube between his lips, he fakes like he'll put it on his cockhead and instead leans to trace it down his chest. Nipple first, around the darker flesh then at the center.]

I might pass out. [Huffing while getting his cock fisted.] Is that what you want? You wanna fuck me til I black out?

[More big man talk because Freddy's trying not to succumb and become a squealing mess like some bimbo so soon. Fuck though he wants to cast his own bet off when Larry runs the ice not over his cock but over his nipple. Just like Freddy wanted and didn't want. But as soon as it's on him his nipples go hard followed by his dick. Rock fucking solid.]

Jesus Christ man...!

[It feels so goddamn intense. He's aching for it.] M-more...do more to me, Larry.

Mmmhmmm.

[Blacked out, completely limp limb stretched out and under the wave of the little death is always something of a dream. Cold, melting water runs down through hair and freckles as the old man moves to the other nipple. Circling there a few extra turns before touching against the hardened nub.

Wow. What a difference in his fist. The man is hard. He strokes him up and down, snug but shallow. Fuck now he's begging for it.]

Out of the chair.

[There's not much left of the ice cube so he sucks on it to keep his mouth cool.]

On your knees.

Oh fuck, man...

[It's not just his nipples anymore but his whole torso, ice cold up top, warmer running towards his cock because of the melting water. Wait what? Caramel green eyes give the old man a look like he's not sure if he can even move but eventually he does. Out of the chair and onto his knees just like Larry says. His knees already feel like they're going to grow weak fast.]

[Paws rub his sides from pit to knee.]

Shakin', cowboy? [Cool mouth is on his throat. Larry decides to adapt his idea. Another gulp of his drink. More ice.]

All fours then.

[Slurp in his mouth. He strokes Freddy harder to keep him in the right frame of mind. It's gonna be good.]

Uh--huh...real shakin'.

[That rubbing is more sudden warmth to counteract the cold. It just makes him more ready to go a second round with Lawrence Dimick. Fingers comb through once more before he Freddy leans over, doing as he's told. The kid's on all fours, hard cock hanging between his spreading thighs. He looks over at Larry, eager to know what's next.]

Good. [He shifts too now, sitting beside Freddy as though he means to work on him like a car. Warm hands of his keep wandering where they will until they return to his cock.]

I like you that way. Tells me I'm doing shit right. Tell me, kiddo. Did it ever feel this good before?

[Even if it was on his own with his own hand was it ever something he thought it couldn't be topped? Might not be. And no, it's not just fishing. He's in it for the conversation to distract. More ice cubes. He lets this one stay at the curve of his back. Just a taste of things to come.

He's already getting the lube ready.]

[Freddy's back bows instinctively, wanting to fuck that hand slow and firm.]

Like this...without you? No. [A shake of his head.] Not without you.

[That's not a cop out is it? Freddy doesn't want to have to recall any other times when Larry's fucked him where it felt better. The only time it didn't feel good wasn't the old man's fault. He was under the influence of who knows what. But everything else? Can't fucking compare each time. Getting photographed and fucked ranks high because Larry set it up and folded him all sorts of ways, Black Magic Woman ranks high because it was his first time. How can Freddy even begin to compare each time?]

Even when I...when I got my hand on me, I'm thinkin' about you. [Another back bow for the cold. He doesn't suspect at all. Good job, Dimick.]

[Letting go of his cock he guides the ice as it is progressively melting up his spine then down his ass crack.]

You think about times like this when you got your hand wrapped around this beautiful cock?

[He lets the ice sit right above the curve of his ass. Now he'll get the lube on his fingers. Prep in case one of those slivers of ice is too much. One first alone. Yeah, he likes Freddy unsuspecting.]

I know I do.

[Stroking with one hand and working the other in and out before adding a second. Fingers stay shallow but scissoring.]

Uh huh...

[Another shiver. Hope Larry don't mind the kid getting down to his elbows instead of his hands. That's how worked up he is. One prod to the ribs though would get his back straight again. Hey wait a second.]

You whack off? Since when?

[And you don't talk about it? Come on now, Dimmy. Yeah just look at this kid mouthing off those words while his expression twists in satisfaction from feeling his thick fingers inside him, around him. It's way better than any solo action.]

[Oh he likes to see him on his elbows. Just goes to show how worked over he is. Even after blowing it and topping no less look how he changes up. It's amazing.]

Not all the time. Sometimes. At work. A song comes on, you know. One of ours. Or the day is too fucking long and I know that when I get home it might be too late. I might be too tired.

[That's not the point of the conversation though. Two fingers work together and spread. Now comes the tricky part. Larry picks up the cup and gets another bit of ice. He sets it down like it's nothing. No, he won't surrender his hand--that's for his cock. A scoot or two and there we go. He slips the half circle of ice between his fingertips with his mouth. Slowly now.]

You ever...whack one off--without callin' me?

[Freddy has but only because he actually does have some courtesy in not (constantly) bothering Larry at work. Likewise back when the kid did have a regular job it was obviously a bad idea getting him worked up while he was trying to fit an engine into a hood or cutting steel. So much for conversation though, before he can say anymore he feels not just fingers but fucking ice going into his ass. It's so fucking cold Freddy practically locks up, pulling the ice in and choking those fingers.]

Holy fuck man... [Hear that panting? The kid's breaking a sweat.]

Uh huh.

[Short. Sweet. Dismissive. There we go. Larry isn't sure if locking up like that is a good or bad sign. He starts to stroke his cock hard now, keeping his fist tight. Fingers with that melting ice stay still.]

It's gonna melt pretty fast. I know how it is in there.

[Freddy's not sure either because that ice and those fingers aren't just locked up tight, they're locked up right against his prostate. The chill is intense as fuck. Look Dimmy, his thighs are trembling.]

Have you--done this before??

[Maybe he's misinterpreting Larry's words. What the fuck does it matter it feels crazy. When his body reconciles with the ice's temperature Freddy finds himself wanting more.] Again...

[Like the sound of that, Lawrence Dimick?]

[Lips move on his hip and curve of his ass. The strokes to his cock slow and end up around the tip.]

No. I read about it.

[Man now he has to put his hand against one of those trembling thighs and grip tightly.]

Again? What a fucking tough guy?

[This time he won't be slick or shy about it. Larry reaches into the cup--no more drinking out of that anymore. He spreads his two fingers wide before slipping in the second cube. Both fingers come together to try to hold it deeper. It might make it melt faster. Oh well.]

Human Torch.

Edited 2011-11-24 11:59 (UTC)

[Focusing on the head like that while he ices his prostate just intensifies the trembling. The tighter the grip Larry puts on him the better it feels too. Everything about right now feels like some exercise in contradictory sensations.]

What the fuck are you readin' man.

[But Freddy nods, giving Larry the greenlight to fill him up some more. His back bows even more now that he's on his elbows and his knees spread a little wider as if it'll make taking a piece of ice easier. That only works for size, Newendyke. Nevertheless that second piece, like the first, slips in best when he tightens, practically a vice around Larry's fingers. Human Torch, says the old man?]

Why are you doin' this to me, Mr. Freeze? [Play along Dimick, even if you don't even know who Dr. Victor Fries is.]

Hustler. Playboy. Shit they got at the casino, baby. I modified it a little.

[More? Fucking hell does he love this man. Larry licks his side, tracing a rib.]

Because I know that you would try and stop my long, cold winter. I have to show you the benefits.

[Nope. Not a clue who Mr. Freeze is other than...he's probably a cold guy. Makes sense. Two fingers thrust a few times, keeping him prepped the next piece is not put in immediately. Larry runs it along the crack of his ass and around the entrance tracing his own fingertips. This is a task for two hands so his cock has to dangle abandoned for the time being. Now it slips on in.]

Nothing like a chill right to your core.

[That dirty dog. Here he is asking him about his dirty movies and all this time Larry's had his dirty magazines. Sneaky. His body seems to bow again when he feels that warm tongue.]

I didn't know...you cared.

[Breathe, Newendyke, don't fucking lose it yet. Oh hell the way he thrusts triggers a flow of precum that only seems to get thicker with a third piece. The first is long melted, the second one on its way. Freddy has to make it last if he wants to come with it on his prostate.] Shit I need to come, Larry.

[Old Dimmy's driven him wild enough the kid drops down to a shoulder with his cheek to the floor so he can start jerking himself.]

[Those magazines are right there. And they do have good articles. Larry didn't say that he beats off to those. He doesn't. He may think about those while he is beating off. A big breasted woman might look on their exploits and approve before joining. Or something.]

I care. I care a lot.

[Larry feels like one more should fit on in.]

Hey. Stop that shit. [He goes so far as to reach to grab his wrist.] I'll do it. And you'll get your ice. Got it?

[Having Larry forcefully stop him from jerking off sends a flash of...something clearly awfully aroused in those almost burning caramel green eyes. Freddy doesn't make another attempt to jerk off but he will nod against the floor and huff.]

Hurry.

[That's one other thing to take away from this, unlike being tied up, held down, shackled, fucked like a maniac, it's this slow aching drawn out sort of action that really puts the kid in a bind. It's in his face with cheeks flushed red as if Larry's been fucking the back of his throat instead of feeding him some fucking ice. Damn. Oh shit what if he plans to make Freddy cry for it as payback??]

[A squeeze for good measure. Now he'll take his and away. He was going to work him and stick the ice in with his mouth again but now it'll require two hands. How Freddy answers will effect the rest.]

Why? Will you blow it waiting?

[Slow and drawn out. That'll be the way it'll go next time. And Larry will have to work him off with fingers first before fucking him senseless. It's decided. The last bit of ice is now slowly working it's way between his fingers through that tight ring of muscle.]

Slips in so well.

[If he could read minds he'd ask the old man why even though he knows it's a lesson in waiting to get what you want, drawing it out so the last of it is a fucking knock out, showing who's the fucking boss to string his orgasm out like this. Larry's such a fucking professional, Freddy loves it.]

Shit I don't know. I fuckin' want it.

[Listen to him beg, voice thin and rasping even though Freddy doesn't have a cock inside him. Hell he doesn't have anything cock-sized inside him yet he's writhing like he's on Larry's dick. He needs to keep his hands occupied or he'll try to reach for himself again. Freddy folds his arms in front of him to rest his forehead on them.]

Fuck...fuckin' shit.. [The kid swallows that piece with ease. All this coldness running across his prostate, up and down his ass, his thighs are still trembling. Please, he's thinking but not saying.]

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