whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Yeah, it's working fine.

[He calls back down to the old man. Hey now he got those texts and he did write back. It's just hard to keep up a conversation when you're working under Tony Stark's hood. The hood of one of his vehicles that is. Nothing doing.]

You wanna put on a movie or something?

[Calling down some more from his room. He's planning on heading back down to join you, Lawrence Dimick. Gosh.]

[On his feet, yeah. Hesitating closer to the stairs. Get a grip man. He makes a detour to the fridge to grab a beer.]

Okay.

[There weren't THAT many texts but he sure was trying to bait the kid. Asking if he felt sore. Asking if he had any plans.]

Thirsty?

[Two beers.]

[Thump thump thump. Here comes Freddy Newendyke now.]

A little.

[The kid reaches out to take those beers away from the old man. Set'em aside on the counter. Surprise. Freddy's naked. Naked and carrying some leather strap deals draped around his neck.]

Take your clothes off. You gotta try on what I got you.

[It only makes sense, Larry bought him a new set of stuff just to last the weekend. Freddy bought him a new set of stuff guaranteed to last longer.]

[Double take to make sure he saw right.]

Here?

[Not that it matters anywhere. Freddy Newendyke's well-trained bear begins to disrobe, eyeing the leather and eyeing the original tried and true Mr. Orange.]

Stop by someplace?

[He might be a little slow, just because.]

Here. [Arms crossed. Ever so casual is Freddy Newendyke.] Sure did. Surprised?

[Okay you're too slow, Mr. White. Freddy starts pulling and tugging at his clothes to get it all off as soon as possible.]

Kind of.

[Why bother hiding a smirk. It's half way to what he wanted. Slipping out of everything, letting it fall wherever it's going to.]

Now what? ...since you got it all planned out.

[Larry up nods to those straps. He takes his time with his eyes. The correct height that the kid should be. All of those freckles.]

Just leave it to me.

[Now it's Freddy's turn to smirk. He puts a grip on that thick arm then forces Larry around to pull the harness over him. Sure it takes some cooperation from the old man's part but if he wants what's coming to him he'll comply. On top of that, Freddy's using his officer of the law grip. He knows Larry can take it like a champ.]

It's a harness, nothin' special. You wear it, it don't do anything to you.

[Not yet. When it's buckled into place Lawrence Dimick looks like he belongs in a dirty leather magazine.]

[Those damn hands. Oh fuck. He cooperates. Gulp.]

Am I the only one with a get up?

[Looking over his shoulder as a perp would.]

Be sure you got it fitting right.

[A harness like he's a horse? Hips tilt back as this happens.]

Yep. [He answers like it's no thing because it is no thing. Only Lawrence Dimick is going to get fitted like some kind of ritzy main course, and by ritzy Freddy really means fucking trashy. Hey now is he mouthing off already? Tighter pull, tighter than it needs to be.] I know what I'm doin', jackass.

[Loosening it up (just a little), there we go. Now it's perfectly formed to the old man's broad torso. The kid reaches around to pinch his nipples firmly because obviously that's what White wants when he's tilting his hips back like that, right? Right. Then freckled hands are roaming farther down because hah there's another strap here, one that attaches to a ring, a ring that's about to slip over Larry's cock and balls.]

Think of it as a leather jockstrap. [And yes, it wasn't cheap, Dimmy.]

You always do, toughguy.

[Tighter? He can handle it. In fact feeling the straps press into his skin feels so much better than he thought it would. It's a different sensation than a too tight belt. Even when it comes on loose he feels his skin tighten.

How can he not get hard under this treatment. Ritzy or trash, as long as the kid keeps on doing what he's gonna do.]

Don't hold back any.

[Hissing for the pinch and leaning for more. Woah. It's over too soon. Now he watches as the kid works to fit the ring over him.]

Nicest one I ever had.

[The way it flexes and feels, it was not cheap at all.]

How'd you know it'd fit?

[How'd he know it'd fit...this freckled hand smacks one side of his ass so hard it might leave a print. It will now since he's also curling his fingers to turn that smack into a clutch.]

I took notes.

[Who knows the old man's body better than the kid? Actually don't answer that, he doesn't need to hear about anyone who came before Larry who has just as intricate knowledge. His other hand creeps over to stroke Larry, get him filling the ring space up to test its proper width.]

Feelin' good?

Shit. [Smarts in the best sort of way. The old man reaches back to grip on the kid any way he can, hip or wiry arm.]

Shoulda known.

[Cops take notes, pay attention to details. He clutches back just as hard when Freddy get's stroking.]

Uhuh. [That's one word.]

Guess the movie's out.

[Who needs a fucking movie. Freddy knows his body so well. How to grip his dick and how to pump it.]

[The old man really doesn't need to know to preserve the magnitude of his ego, but the sizing on that cockring is LARGE. As if Larry wasn't already aware of his blessing in that department. Ahem. Larry's paw gripping in return really evokes a groan out of Freddy.]

What would you put on, huh? What would you watch while I'm squeezing my dick in you?

[Now he's hands off his dick just to turn the other man around to face him again. God does he looks fucking good.]

I dunno. I don't care. Wouldn't really be watching.

[Shoulders are about heaving with the way he's breathing heavy so fast. Now he's swelled up to the right size to fill up that cockring. Brave kid going out and picking up a get up like this. He's flattered enough as it is that this was hand picked by Freddy.]

How about we skip to the next part.

[He wants it. Bad.]

[Look at this old man, so fucking willing, waiting, and ready. To think, just days ago Freddy was sitting on his dick, riding it fucking mad and coming all over Larry's stomach. That's the way people see it (those who know or suspect) he bets, that the smaller Mr. Orange is Mr. White's favorite cum dump. If they only knew the truth. Heh.]

The next part is you get on your knees and suck me off. Get it ready.

[He pulls on Larry via the harness towards the living room. Flop. He sits in the special chair, the reclining one, knees parted.] Do it.

[What's to come is worth the wait. Worth waiting more than a few days and worth not even rubbing one out in the meantime. It's a fucking privileged to be Freddy's cum dump.]

Y'got it.

[Harnessed and hauled. Getting on his knees the minute after that freckled ass is pressed into the cushions.]

I was thinking about this all weekend.

[Hands behind him and now he's got to pretty much bury his face and head in Freddy's thighs. His mouth is gaping like a fish taking it all in. At least Freddy's got the TV going.]

Oh yeah? Why?

[Freddy asks before threading his fingers into Larry's hair. He gives his head a slow deliberate push while tilting his own hips up. Sort of a counterproductive gesture, this. Ah well, he doesn't really achingly have to hear an answer from him so soon. Those paws are free to roam as they will but the kid's not exactly making use of them. It's as if right now Freddy thinks all Larry is good for is the pie hole in his face. At the moment, that's very true.]

[No answer. He's busy. And boy does he like having his head pushed further and have those hips tilt up to meet him. There may be some sort of an interpretation of desperation by the wet slurps that escape only now and then.]

Because fuck if I'm gonna be close to naked flesh that ain't yours what's the point?

[A skin flick or a titty show isn't the same thing. He would happily see any with the kid or out and about then go home to make him sit on his cock or bend over for it. Larry pants and tilts his head side ways to curl his tongue under the shaft.]

You make a pretty strong case, I'll give you that.

[The kid concedes with fox-peepers narrowing down at the old man, watching how his lips move around every word, how his tongue curls this way and that. He's an excellent cocksucker, this Lawrence Dimick, the best teacher any cherry gay could ask for. This other hand reaches between his thighs to guide his dick back into Larry's mouth. You like that, Mr. White?]

[He does. He really does. They fuck so often that more than a few dry days gets a man antsy. Even if they're not fucking together they've worked themselves up to a very stable standard of intimacy. With Freddy walking around in Eames' skin it certainly was an exercise in being affectionate without too much touching.

Now he can touch all he wants. And he will with his mouth, lips, tongue and throat. Great to know that skills like cocksucking don't go bad with age. Something like riding a bicycle or...whatever. Brown eyes get to take in how he looks in the old man's chair being the big poss fitting that uncut cock between his lips. His own is hanging and hard. If he could scoot close enough to the chair he could hump it. No. He's fixing to go but not that far gone.]

[Don't even think about humping the chair, Lawrence Dimick, because Freddy hasn't told you you can yet. These freckled fingers still have a grip on his hair too, wouldn't want him to lose any of it just to discipline the old man.]

Shit...think it's wet enough to fuck you...huh?

[Huff and puff. Breathe slow, Newendyke. Sure you can last more rounds but giving in to it so easily undermines your own authority. It'll make Mr. White think he can hump whatever he wants without asking. Fuck that.]

[Thinking's not a crime. Yet. He's thinking it over though.]

Yeah. [Gulping down the excess saliva, some still slicks his chin and lower lip. Larry lifts his head, if the grip on his hair allows. Even though he's not sucking cock any more he's moving his mouth on the inside of Freddy's thigh.]

I sure think it is.

[Even though he's well aware the kid wants to fuck him just as much, the way he's taking on a sort of typical tough, take no shit cop attitude makes him almost think for a moment it's not enough.]

Hard too.

[Leaning closer again he pierces his lips to lightly blow cool air on that now slick cock.]

[Never let them see you sweat, that's his motto. Except Mr. White sees him sweating all the time. Oh well, can't win every time. That cool blow has him shuddering. Freckled fingers loosen up then let go.]

Get the lube.

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.]

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