whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Bullshit you can take it.

[Freddy argues, barely able to cover the shudder in his own voice because great goddamn is it good and fuck's sake he looks amazing like this. In again. Out again. In again. Out again. In again. Then he stays in Larry to continue fucking him. He's a merciful guy, this Orange. He's going to change up his own posture though, set on his freckled feet so he can reach over and pin Larry's head to the ground. Freddy's hips keep moving, thrusts shorter at this angle but so deep in his ass that probably shouldn't matter.]

I-I can' take it baby. Uh huh.

[Shit does his voice feel rough and uneven. Of course he's gotta say it in the duration of a pull out and then push in.]

That's a big, beautiful dick.

[All the panting. He's damn sure that the words are just a pretty song played. Freddy knows what he's doing and is intent to keep on going. The resuming steady fucking pace even has him mumbling a thanks to God.]

Fuck. Mmm. Yeah, man. Like that.

[So damn deep. While he's up on his feet and Larry's on the ground, who's the bigger man now?]

Flattery's not gonna help you, tough guy. [Boasts the kid with a big beautiful dick. Huff puff.] It ain't--big like yours either...and you're snipped.

[Cut and still thicker and longer than the average white man. What did Lawrence Dimick do to deserve it? Doesn't a life of crime mean bad karma or something? Some guys get all the breaks. But right now is Freddy's time to glow and boy is he glowing. He's reddened and dewy from all this exertion, all this satisfaction from having White tight around him. Fuck he's got a cock ring on and Freddy's pretty sure he won't be able to do multiple rounds without the second performance paling in comparison to the first. He's got to slow down. Slow down and grind. These freckled hands walk their way back from his face to his shoulders, his back, then his hips as Freddy pulls out.]

You're--red.

[He remarks, referring to his actual asshole and not just the rest of him. Loud slap to his ass. The next thing that slips inside Lawrence Dimick isn't his dick or his fingers, it's that firm dexterous thing called Orange's tongue. His fingers are too busy wrapping around Larry's cock to jerk him.]

[But Freddy, it's not the guys fault that each time you push on in after pulling out it's like you've grown an extra inch in both directions.]

Coulda fooled me.

[Gulp. When you're brought into this world you don't get much of a choice of whether or not you wanna get cut. Same goes for whether or not you want cock of any kind. Here he is though. His hair is gray and his back can be lousy at times, and it's hard to get a steady relationship when you're a criminal. All this time he was looking the wrong way.

Freddy Newendyke wants him. He planned this in his head, could have been all weekend while he hand his big English hands to himself.

Pulling out, pushing in, grinding. His skin feels hot. That beautiful uncut cock is doing a number to his prostate. Part of the thrill and agony is that he can't see the action for himself. No longer filled up with cock or even fingers?]

Shit. Freddy---[Red ass tenses after that smack. Cheek to the floor and ass angled in the air, he didn't see that tongue coming. His eyes about roll up into his head. There's gonna be a several wet spots on the floor from sweat and saliva alone.]

Goddammit.

[Sure it ain't no cock or dick but the way he's eating his man out it's like he's digging into the tastiest grease trap dinner there ever was, or Grade A prime rib if Larry prefers being compared to something classier. His stroking on this hard dick is firm and even too, not fast or slow, just moderate enough to keep those eyes rolling until he feels like putting his dick back in him. Not yet.]

Tell me what you like.

[He insists before taking a breath then pressing his tongue along his balls. Right back up to dip in his hole again. Whether or not being jacked off is one of the things Larry likes, Freddy is neglecting his cock now to work on undoing just his wrist restraints. Let the old man regain some movement, he's pretty sure those broad shoulders might need a massage tomorrow.]

[He feels like a greasy spoon dish being pawed and slurped by one hungry dog. That thick dick the kid so admires feels so rock hard and snugly fit into the cock ring. Precum is trying to squeeze on out with each pass of his fist. With few allowances for movement maybe the kid can tell that he's trying to rock back onto his tongue and into his fist, that or he's shaking like mad.]

Shit I love your mouth. Oh God. [Grunt. Swallow. Huff.] A-and your cock.

[Gulp.]

Everything.

[Being a big man fixed into place. Pretty fucking symbolic. That's what you do to him, Freddy. He might call the shots and treat you good as gold but he's the one who feels so damn spoiled and lucky. How sentimental. No Hallmark card ever had this kind of a photo on the front.

With hands free he'll press one to the floor the other one wants to grip onto that man's hair. Long hair is gonna stick to the sweat of his palm. He's about drenched.]

[He could ask the old man what did he say about flattery? But this time he takes those complaints, those golden praises, and smiles against Larry's rear. Freddy really has this professional fucker in the palm of his hand. In a way he sort of already knew the potential for that, it started in Smokey Pete's when they got into baseball. Back then he wouldn't have acknowledged being smitten too, only that he was doing his job and making a decent friend in the process. But Freddy Newendyke would be a liar if he said he didn't keep the fact that he needed to gain this guy's trust for the case constantly present in his mind. It's why he wanted to confess when he didn't have to. Now it no longer matters. Larry's still here and just as willing to spread his legs for the kid as he is willing to put his dick in him.]

You're fucking amazing.

[Mouth off. Hands off. He's getting to his feet again only this time to pull one of the cushions off the couch. He slides it under Larry to put the bigger man farther down than his knees. He's almost laying flat on the floor, given just enough space to not crush that perfect cut cock, and also the perfect level for a shorter guy like Orange to mount him again and push his own cock back in.]

[In the moment without any other physical contact he wades through the feeling. His ass feels open, not yet sore. Of course he wants more. His skin is prickled with sweat. The leather doesn't bite into his skin, there is a heaviness on top of. They'll have to get it oiled and treated. Don't want an expensive purchase to go to waste.]

Baby, I love you.

[As though he hadn't known, Larry will tell him again and again. Each time still wouldn't be enough to make up for when he knew. They say that you don't know what you got until it's gone. Larry didn't have to lose Freddy at the heist to know that he didn't wanna be without. Whatever it would have been there on out, friendship or strained partnership now and then, he could take what he got because they would always have that day and that time.

Then Blonde had to go and fuck it all up. Then Freddy had to be a cop.

Who cares. All of that had to happen before right now. Now he's slipping closer to the ground, legs still spread and face to the floor. Larry moans like a bimbo getting done over by a Charles Bronson fella.]

Fuck. Yeah. Like that.

[The only part he regrets is being unable to have his hair pawed or pulled this way but that's all right. There'll be more opportunities for that later. Right now this moment is about pleasing Lawrence Dimick, using him to remind themselves this body is the right one and it fits best with his. Freddy's putting all he can into his thrusts, hard and at the right angle enough to make the old man's rear ripple a little bit.]

Touch yourself.

[He manages to cough out. Sweat is dripping off him right onto the old man's back. He just knows he's leaking precum in Larry now.]

Jack off while I--while I fuck you, tough guy.

[Who knows if Freddy has what it takes to make Larry walk like a bow legged cowboy, lord knows Larry does. It's not that annoying though, just a minor pleasant inconvenience. The kid knows from persona experience. Ah now it's his turn to put his freckled hand on that darker head. Again he's pressing down, using his leverage to his advantage so that every thrust is firm and quick and angled to nail his prostate on the way deeper into his ass. People hand over their paychecks for movies like this.]

[Rippling, writhing. All of that. As long as he's bound up so tight he can't bust though it feels like he's gonna any second with all of those hard and heavy passes.]

Okay.

[Easy, simple and obedient. Your bear is well trained. Larry does reach down. For a moment he has to reach back to feel were he's being impaled. Watch those thick fingers marvel at how they fit. Maybe he is going to walk differently tomorrow.

The pressure of Freddy's palm to his head is a blessing and command. Nonverbal and still the old man listens. Stay down while they get down. Listening hasn't done him wrong at all tonight.

Back to business, he's working his cock. His hold stays loose, the best effects should come from Freddy going to town on his ass.]

You gonna come in my ass? Huh?

[After all of the brutality of his cock and then tongue, he's earned that feeling. Christ almighty his balls feel so tight.]

You're damn right I will.

[He asserts without hesitation. And it's okay if Larry comes first too, as long as he understands he has to stay like this until Freddy blows it himself. Speaking of blowing it though, the kid absolutely wants to emphasize making the old man unload based on the beating to his prostate, so that's why his free hand brushes against Larry's thicker fingers. Guess what Mr. Orange is about to do. When his own cock is pulling back to a shallower depth, he slows the pace to make it easier for when he very carefully and deliberately squeezes not one but two fingers back into Larry. They're settling under his own cock, tips pressing down against the sides of White's prostate. Even more pressure for when he starts thrusting again, which is right now.]

Come on, Larry.

[Huff and puff and floppy hair sticking to his forehead.]

[Moving after he comes, when he comes won't be an option. He would gladly lay there and take it.]

I want it, sheriff. Oh God I want it.

[Freddy could do about anything to him right now. Those prying, extra fingers up inside of his ass come as a big surprise. He never would have been able to guess. Look at him now. It's not no jungle bunny splitting him open. It's Mr. Orange.]

I'm gonna come!

[And the whole complex may now it the way he's shouting for it. Precum about flowing on out of him, he can't hold back any longer when Freddy is back into motion. It's like he touched a livewire. Freddy may not be able to move the way he tenses on up. The pillow and the floor are getting the majority of his load.]

[Can't let him take all the credit. Freddy does his own share of shouting.]

Do it, old man!

[Well he expected the tightness when he added a few fingers but he's damn sure there's a split second in which Larry manages to constrict around him even tighter, making it dangerous to keep on fucking him while he comes. He'll push his cock the deepest it can go though, down to his balls and where his fingers meet his palm, to grind away at Lawrence Dimick while the man unloads on their cushion. Heh. Who's gonna clean that up? His face is close enough to drag his teeth across Larry's skin.]

Keep comin' baby, come until you're all out...

[People may identify one voice, it's all the smaller man's doing. All of it. He fucks like a giant. This older man under him can attest to that. Pulverized. It's all your fault, Freddy. All of it.

If Larry didn't know better, he'd say that Freddy found a new place up inside of him that he didn't know was there all his life. He feels so full and stretched, and it's completely milking everything out of him. Chances are if they did fuck over the weekend, he wouldn't have an orgasm like this.]

Freddy. [A shaking paw reaches back to just clutch at his head, to keep him close as close can be.]

Think-think I ran out.

[It takes every bit of Freddy's willpower to not come right then and there with Larry tight and fucking shuddering under him. Heh. Mr. White under him, groaning like a whore who made good on his bang for his buck. Heh. The kid's going to walk into work wearing a huge smug smile on his face.]

Good, baby.

[He rolls his head a little under that clutching paw, still loving the feeling whether he's the one sticking it in or taking it up the ass. Everything's fucking sweet with Lawrence Dimick. Freddy couldn't be happier. Oh wait, yes he can, he can by unloading.]

I'm gonna come in you.

[Feeling the heavier man come to a sort of still from his writhing is the kid's cue. He pulls his fingers out to put a grip on both shoulders before his hips start thrusting again. Hard and fast like it's just business now. Teeth mark the back of Larry's neck not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to leave temporary impressions. Teeth, tongue, and lips. His balls tighten as his own writhing begins. Freddy yells out unintelligible words. No translator needed for Larry though; they all amount to expressing how much he loves fucking his man.]

[Fingers out and he about collapses onto the rest of his cock.]

Do it. Do it.

[Come he means. Words and brains aren't working as they should even though he's not shaking like a fault line. No doubts at all. He's going to have a limp and an ache. No regrets at all.

The sounds don't stop with the kid slamming away it could be some sort of a 60s guitar solo accompany.]

Yeah. Oh fuck. Jesus.

[There it is. Filling him right on up to the brim. There are people who dream about this sort of a human connection, all raw dirty and somehow tender and caring. Lucky bastards.]

All of it.

Edited 2012-01-27 07:21 (UTC)

Larry...

[The kid sounds like he could be dying judging from all the sounds that come out of him, like he's bleeding heavily from his stomach instead of unloading hot cum from his dick. His grip on Larry stays strong and tight, almost bruising until his orgasm finally subsides. Huff puff. Freddy becomes no better than a (light) deadweight on Larry's back.]

G-Goddamn.

[Sweat flicks onto the floor. His fingers unclench to trail down those broad sides. This rock star's just about finished up making his guitar cry.]

[Grip on his hair now is a lazy petting. They're a mass of sweaty flesh. For a moment it's hard to say who is breathing when because they're both rising and falling together. Nobody's fucking dyin' okay. Not that way.

He's almost dizzy. Bruises and bites are going to be worn like badges of honor. It's proof how much his baby loves him.]

Freddy. [Gulp down saliva. Whoops there's a lot of that too.] Kiss me.

[No matter where his mouth has been. Just the kind of performance that satisfies but keeps them begging for more.]

[Kiss him he says...of course he'll kiss him even if he has to shift a little to do so while still stuck up inside him because this is his Mr. White and he loves Mr. White.]

Okay.

[There's that softer submissive sounding voice again, ready and willing to do anything Lawrence Dimick asks of him. It's a high contrast to the hard fucking he just committed on his ass. Freddy cranes his neck to give Larry a kiss over his shoulder. It doesn't quite reach his mouth as well as kissing face to face would but he tries. He'll try again after pulling out too.]

[Touch of those lips at all.]

You're fucking amazing. Un-fucking-believable.

[Lazy, heartfelt adoration is more than earned. He feels like he is high and drunk. Freddy rocked out all the tension with his mouth, fingers and cock.]

That was what I wanted all weekend.

[Heh. He grins a little. Boy did the kid deliver. He tilts his hips back some savoring the fullness. The pillow below him was an excellent idea.]

Me too. [Another kiss.] I mean, any way we could do it.

[Another smile against those older somewhat thinner lips. Of course the kid never minds getting a pounding up his ass but he'd have to admit he gets a rush knowing he's the only one with the privilege to slam it in Lawrence Dimick. Those other guests would have to pay them to do the same. Not to say this makes Freddy some kind of anal receiving fiend or anything (true facts: he is one).]

I'm gonna pull outta you.

[He sighs with the explicit intention of undoing those straps to then roll Larry over and maybe curl on top of him like a housepet.]

[After this sort of treatment, who would want any one else? Wary after so much time and then to be so lucky with this sort of an enthusiastic man playing pitcher, why on earth would he want any one else? That's how the old man figures it. Freddy's carved that place out just for himself. He's done with experimenting in that sort of way, or so he thinks. The kid has years on his life. He can and should go about doing what he wants.]

Okay. [Another gulping swallow.] Okay man.

[There it is. Even though he's ready for it, there's still a long low moan. Way to go, Mr. Orange. You fucked him tender. Clink of the straps that hit the floor. And he rolls on over obediently. Paws come up too to hold onto him.]

[Who would think this smaller freckled guy just fucked the shit out of that bigger tattooed one with the way Freddy is curling up and holding onto Larry tightly? Heh.]

It looked good on you.

[He remarks, referring to the harness among other things. Damn there's still cum on the floor too ain't here? He makes sure they're shuffled away enough from the wet spot.]

[Hey, if they know then they've got the right sort of insight to not say anything because of basic human courtesy. If they don't know, they'll never know. Those fuckers won't understand.]

I should wear it more then. [Out of the mess and laying just so. Larry cranes his neck and pulls Freddy closer. He'd like a real kiss now. Slow moving and breathless in its way still.]

It does its job.

[Another observation before he shifts with Larry to better fit against him for a real kiss. Mouth to mouth, he holds the kiss longer, close enough that if he blinks his lashes might brush against the old man. Don't they call it a butterfly kiss or something? Fucking romantic. The TV's still on but Freddy can't really make out what's on it, he's not paying attention to it at all.]

But I ain't no madman.

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