whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[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.]

[Swapping spit, rolling his tongue with the other man's. Larry can feel his jaw move. This is the second best way to appreciate the marvel of his mouth.]

I love you.

[Nip. Nip. Pant.

So fucking romantic on their hardwood floor. The sea life feature is winding down. Those turtles are heading on home to the shore to start all over again.]

I fuckin' love you.

[He replies between nips to Larry's lip. Oof, that's right, it's a hard floor. Freddy guides the old man to sit up. The couch, his lounge chair, or a shower? It's still a little too early at night for bed unless the kid worked him over so much he needs a bear nap.]

[Shower because sleep isn't going to be too far after. Freddy could guide him off of a building right now. It's stupid. It's wonderful. Ain't that what love does to people? Hits you while you're down, makes you fall into dumb decisions in a heartbeat?

All Mr. White knows. If it means living this life, feeling how he feels right now, he honestly doesn't care.]

But I ain't no madman.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject