Unlike his friend Blonde doesn't voice an opinion. He lets the moment go on for another couple beats. "Are you finished," he asks, "lovebirds?"
It's hard to tell if he's being congenial or facetious but neither White nor Orange give a fuck. It almost seems like White might bend Orange over right then and there but the guy oozes self-control and keeps the kid upright. "Lemme..." Freddy swallows, "lemme jerk you fellas off." It's called keeping the peace (and getting what he wants in the process), something he's good at.
Blonde thinks it's a nice try for a tough guy act but he's not going to criticize it because shit that's exactly what he had in mind. Orange just keeps getting better and better. "C'mere, Eddie," he beckons and rubs his thumb against the damp fabric binding Eddie's mouth. No romance here. Blonde leans into the corner of the stall left of the bowl because it's close and convenient. Eddie keeps to Blonde's side with White almost directly opposite him and Orange (of fucking course) right on Vic's other side. It's like a game of circle jerk chicken and somebody made the commode Switzerland. Who's going to make the first move?
"Put your hand on me," Orange says to White as he reaches for him and Blonde too.
Please is obvious in his tone like he's begging papi to play. And who is White not to oblige? He's boy pussy whipped. It's not his precious mouth but then when he can look beside him, right into those intense eyes and see the kid standing there in the suit they put together with his uncut cock hanging out you can bet your damn guns he's going to settle for a group handjob. Later on, White notes to himself, he's going to fuck Orange in it, pants pooled around his ankles and using his sleeves as reins and he won't let them lose a single button. He's already mesmerized into envisioning the reach around by the way Orange's foreskin glides up and down over the head.
Blonde doesn't care about the interaction between the two. He gets it, they're close and that's a no no in Joseph's book, Mr. White, unless you're Vic Vega and Eddie Cabot. But he's no rat, let them do what they want. Blonde tilts his head back against the stall wall when Orange rubs his fingers around the tip of his cock. Now he's going to give Eddie what he wants, with a flash of a wink and a smile. Blonde wraps his hand around his shorter fat prick and strokes.
All of them are moving together, fists on skin or wool or both, black and white on black and white on black and white. Blonde's pumping Eddie like they used to as fucking drop outs while he sets his other palm right in the crook of Orange's neck, fingers hooking under his tie and giving a tug whenever he wants Orange to pump faster. White's solely focused on Orange, pausing in jerking him off only to unbuckle his belt so he can reach under the back of his jacket, down beneath his rear waistband, and finger his tight hole. White's thick finger against him pales in comparison to his dick but Orange would be lying if he said it doesn't do anything for him. It does a lot for him, sending his hips forward right into Larry's fist, under his fucking thumb. Orange is putting his wrists into working both men. Just like his bright track jacket is a sharp contrast to the black and white, Eddie's lack of having to service anyone stands out. Who's the pillow queen now? Albeit one with a tie in his mouth. Fuck he can barely keep his knees locked and the only sound he can make are grunts because of fucking Blondie and goddamn does Vic know how to work a cock. That lean little motherfucker doesn't even matter anymore although with every second he comes closer to unloading he can't help but admit White and Orange make a decent looking pair.....naw, it's just the suits.
Re: Group, suit kink, 4/5
Unlike his friend Blonde doesn't voice an opinion. He lets the moment go on for another couple beats. "Are you finished," he asks, "lovebirds?"
It's hard to tell if he's being congenial or facetious but neither White nor Orange give a fuck. It almost seems like White might bend Orange over right then and there but the guy oozes self-control and keeps the kid upright. "Lemme..." Freddy swallows, "lemme jerk you fellas off." It's called keeping the peace (and getting what he wants in the process), something he's good at.
Blonde thinks it's a nice try for a tough guy act but he's not going to criticize it because shit that's exactly what he had in mind. Orange just keeps getting better and better. "C'mere, Eddie," he beckons and rubs his thumb against the damp fabric binding Eddie's mouth. No romance here. Blonde leans into the corner of the stall left of the bowl because it's close and convenient. Eddie keeps to Blonde's side with White almost directly opposite him and Orange (of fucking course) right on Vic's other side. It's like a game of circle jerk chicken and somebody made the commode Switzerland. Who's going to make the first move?
"Put your hand on me," Orange says to White as he reaches for him and Blonde too.
Please is obvious in his tone like he's begging papi to play. And who is White not to oblige? He's boy pussy whipped. It's not his precious mouth but then when he can look beside him, right into those intense eyes and see the kid standing there in the suit they put together with his uncut cock hanging out you can bet your damn guns he's going to settle for a group handjob. Later on, White notes to himself, he's going to fuck Orange in it, pants pooled around his ankles and using his sleeves as reins and he won't let them lose a single button. He's already mesmerized into envisioning the reach around by the way Orange's foreskin glides up and down over the head.
Blonde doesn't care about the interaction between the two. He gets it, they're close and that's a no no in Joseph's book, Mr. White, unless you're Vic Vega and Eddie Cabot. But he's no rat, let them do what they want. Blonde tilts his head back against the stall wall when Orange rubs his fingers around the tip of his cock. Now he's going to give Eddie what he wants, with a flash of a wink and a smile. Blonde wraps his hand around his shorter fat prick and strokes.
All of them are moving together, fists on skin or wool or both, black and white on black and white on black and white. Blonde's pumping Eddie like they used to as fucking drop outs while he sets his other palm right in the crook of Orange's neck, fingers hooking under his tie and giving a tug whenever he wants Orange to pump faster. White's solely focused on Orange, pausing in jerking him off only to unbuckle his belt so he can reach under the back of his jacket, down beneath his rear waistband, and finger his tight hole. White's thick finger against him pales in comparison to his dick but Orange would be lying if he said it doesn't do anything for him. It does a lot for him, sending his hips forward right into Larry's fist, under his fucking thumb. Orange is putting his wrists into working both men. Just like his bright track jacket is a sharp contrast to the black and white, Eddie's lack of having to service anyone stands out. Who's the pillow queen now? Albeit one with a tie in his mouth. Fuck he can barely keep his knees locked and the only sound he can make are grunts because of fucking Blondie and goddamn does Vic know how to work a cock. That lean little motherfucker doesn't even matter anymore although with every second he comes closer to unloading he can't help but admit White and Orange make a decent looking pair.....naw, it's just the suits.