Falling In

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I’d fallen into house around 11 just after a late breakfast and helping out on the ward. My hours on the medical shift had decreased a lot after a situation with the doctor, and the riots due to heightened security. Units 14, 15, and 17 having been segregated, no longer had rec time together so that made for fewer fights. For a while, it seemed like I was doing nothing other than prepping injuries. The time I spent with the prisoners on watch had been cut in half.

Author was prisoner number 145896D. When I started, he’d been on watch for seven months but his condition hadn’t changed. Most in the program lasted only eight weeks before it became obvious that the true reason for them being there was to die. Author had been arrested on a string of petty crimes like theft and breaking and entering, but like so many of us without the right attorney, he’d ended up on the farm. He was young, more cute than handsome, and more soft than rugged – a boy like him never had a chance in this place. It wasn’t long before the taunts started, his first day in fact. By the third night an older gentleman in his 50’s approached him on the yard and told him to transfer into his house. “You just be sweet to me” he’d said “and no one will bother you.” Jackson was an old lifer and knew the game. No one would mess with him because of his age and two because he had connections for getting in the best shit from the outside. Fuck with Jackson and he’d fuck with your supply. Through that, he’d established himself as a man.

For whatever reason, Jackson had propositioned Author to crash in his place. There was something that he’d found attractive and wanted to protect. Jackson had never taken a wife so it was something of a surprise that he’d considered it. Maybe like me he’d just started feeling lonely. With the question being out, inmates backed off and Author had gained a false sense of security. I’d seen him before he’d come to the ward but he wasn’t someone I’d take a second look at. After a month, when no move was made to settle in with Jackson, Renaldo Padella made a different proposition and Author became a sperm bank for most of the men on unit 17.

It’s hard to not feel sorry. The guy came into the system young and played tough, but was too cute for his own good. What he failed to realize was that it didn’t matter how tough he was, he needed someone on his side, and guys like him rarely got to choose who’d have their backs. A typical story in this place, so it is of no consequence.

Around 2, some of the brothers from unit 14 braved the cold for rec and took to the courts. Their game of B-ball tended to get pretty intense and I wanted in figuring it was a good way to clear my head. I was being guarded by Jimmy the Jam who had the meanest cock on the block. “Better watch your ass College, I’d hate to make you my bitch!” Jam always liked to get in real close to intimidate other players with what he was packing. That bulge was always a prominent spectacle in our scrub like uniforms, especially since we only wore boxers or nothing at all underneath. Briefs for whatever reason, were not allowed.

I faked Jam with a turn to the right, broke out left and twisted around to drop a 3 pointer. Swoosh. Pading, pading, the ball bounced under the net having caught nothing but air. I got in a few more shots like that despite the distraction of Jams cock constantly riding my ass. Admittedly I had a thing about his cock rubbing against me on the sly, a few times I’d called out because I’d almost gotten hard. He was testing me because I’d let him cross a boundary in the past. Jam was mean and calculating, the kind of men I’d been around for so long at that point a part of me had accepted it as the way men were supposed to be. Jimmy was the total opposite of Author, one was someone a mother could love, the other someone you just fucked, though getting fucked in here, is really not much of an option at all if anyone ever finds out.

Jam played the macho shit pretty hard and got far too aggressive for a yard game with nothing on the table – lucky for me because I was pretty low on smokes and my team lost. After that, some of the players hit the showers and I went back to fall in at my place to make sure the new cellie hadn’t arrived early and decided to go through my shit. Just to be certain, I straightened things up and rolled most of my reads back to my side of the room. I also had a box of snacks, with a couple of emergency smokes, and a small jar of hair oil tucked away at the bottom just in case I was ever included in a lockdown and couldn’t get commissary. That box was worth fighting for.

A convict often carried his life in a cigar box. Pictures, smokes, dope, and hair product which doubled as lube. Mine hadn’t been used except for solo sessions which I’d had time to enjoy since my last cellie had been transferred to Beaumont. I was happy that he’d left. They always seemed to pair me with obnoxious Bush loving country boys that talked constantly about pussy. The last guy would never shut casino siteleri up about the snatch, the more I tried to block him out, the more he wanted to get in my face about it. He’d even gone so far as to pull out his cock and call me a faggot one night. “You must like dick or something. You gonna be my Black Bitch!”

He spent a few days on the ward after that.

When the guards had asked what happened to him I told them he must have fell. There was no contradiction to my version of the event, so they took him away laughing knowing full well what had happened. Lucky for me, I was in good with enough of them and could get away with shit. A lot of recruits were students and knew I’d done ‘College’ as they called me. After that incident, part of me wished I’d have just kicked his ass earlier and more often just to get some privacy and to shut him up. He’d put up a little fight, which made my dick hard so I could see there was no way he could be the man of any house. For the most part at least, he never pushed me over the edge again and respected a certain boundary of disrespect. Still, the problem was that I despised the prison culture of gender.

It must have been about three months after that I noticed all his talk about pussy had subsided. At first I didn’t make anything of it, figuring that he’d either willingly gotten dicked, or was dicking someone. Since he was in my place, I thought none of the brothers would mess with him, even Renaldo Padella as notorious as he was for taking some White ass wasn’t going to fuck with someone staying in another man’s house. I hadn’t considered just how much of a prick Jimmy the Jam was.

I forget exactly when it happened, but I’d came back to find Jam fucking the literal shit out of country boy. He must have been used to the size of Jam’s cock by then because he wasn’t yelling out, or trying to get away. Just taking it. I was pissed not because Jam was ramming him, but because it was against the code, against the status I’d built, and stunk up the fucking cage. You don’t fuck a “Man’s” cellie unless he lets you. Like an idiot I gritted my teeth and just stood there while Jam’s ebony blade dug into country boy, hitting hard the spots that most men could never reach. Defeated I backed out to let him finish the disrespect he’d passed onto my house, ashamed because I’d thought of fucking country boy myself, afraid that I’d always thought myself straight and didn’t buy into that if I’m the man on top shit. I shouldn’t have let Jimmy cross that boundary because after that was when he started testing and fucking with me on the courts.

One day I was really tired after having pulled a long shift on the ward – this was sometime later. The doctor let me take a long shower in the guards’ locker, the stipulation being that he of course had to watch over me. The trade off was acceptable. I made a show of undressing slowly, stretching, and bending over so that he could get a good look. I’d stand up slowly and then hoped my cock would get slightly erect. It was difficult at first but I got used to it and could think about what put me in the slammer in the first place to get juiced. I hadn’t fucked a guy except twice when I was younger, but the longer I remained in prison, the less opposed to the idea I’d become. I thought about Mathew Farinelli under the warmth of the falling water. We’d gotten into an argument about something and he pushed me calling me a pussy. I became furious and knocked him to the ground.

“Fuck you” I glared.

“Yeah, you wish you could fuck me. You’ve never even had a girl have you?” The question came like a dare and I froze in fear realizing that I had an erection, and that yes I wanted to. There was no sex with a girl at that point, even though I said I had hundreds of times. So, I fucked him with spit right there in the alley rough and hard to prove that I wasn’t the fag. We were friends one minute, then fighting and fucking the next. Out of shame Mathew never talked about it, and eventually came back around. It happened again like that, that ‘I taught him a lesson’ about who the fag was. The second time after I’d finished putting a load inside him, I felt sick. It dawned on me that the reason we had our second fight was because he was mad at me for taking what he would have given had I asked. I got scared and never hung out with him again. Soon after that I creamed the first girl who told me no, and got her pregnant. A fat bitch named Pam DeSoto that moved away. I never even saw the kid.

My attention turned from memories of the outside back to the doctor. I tried to see if there was something in him that I liked, something like Pam or something like Mathew. I figured he wanted to fuck me or be fucked, I wasn’t sure which nor how to go about it. I was certain he knew I was taking supplies and would allow it as long as he could watch. He kind of smiled when my eyes met his and I sort of guessed that he eventually wanted to ride my Black cock. He just seemed like the type who’d do anything canlı casino for a big dick – even throw away a career. For me the question remained, if I wanted to spend an entire 20 years without any form of human contact. The stupid part to that was that I’d never known true intimacy. Mathew was the closest I’d felt to it. Guys could get everything behind bars it seemed except condoms, proper lube, and intimacy.

After I finished up, the water had opened my pores which felt good. I dried off intentionally slow, and moved close to the doc and indicated that he could touch my dick if he wanted. He looked toward the door afraid that the guard outside might decide to come in, but we both knew he wouldn’t. In fact he was well aware that the doc wanted to take privilege with me. It wasn’t like that was my first shower in the locker with him keeping watch.

The doc got down on his knees and took my dick in one hand, lifted it up and stared at the bottom of my shaft, turned it to the right, left, then back to the right. He took the other hand, sandwiched the top of my cock and angled it down to the floor allowing his hand to drag the full length of me, only when he got to the head, he held it and continued the inspection. He pursed his lips and sucked in air through his teeth “yeah, that’s a beauty” he said. “You’ve got the cock of a stallion. Look at those thick veins” he paused looking up at me.

His eyes were a deep green, he had dark hair, and I noticed for the first time, a hairy chest that was a bit too manly for me and in total contrast to the soft cooing he made about my groin. He smiled and turned his attention to my balls which still needed drying. They hung heavy but were full like balloons, which the doc seemed to like and tasted the moisture with his tongue. It felt good to have my cock on his face, and to see him servicing my nuts. My dick twitched and acted as though it would stretch out into its full glory, but I was too nervous, and the situation felt trite. After a minute or so he took my shaft into his mouth and sucked me for another three before he stopped and gave up since I didn’t get fully erect.

“We’d better go,” he said. “I don’t want to end up looking for another job.” He offered to try to get me transferred for work at a special hospital for inmates, but I wasn’t interested.

“Next time” I told him “I’ll just take a shorter shower so we can have more time.” But next time never came. After that the doctor pretended that nothing had happened between us, so it was a while before I’d gotten another private shower and when I did, he wasn’t interested in playing. He basically blew me off when I walked over to him after having made very short work of cleaning myself. I’d noticed his dick was hard but was confused as to what was going on. “I really want you to suck this man” but he just sort of grinned, played coy and gestured to my rags as though I hadn’t just offered him my ass on a platter. My prick turned to stone, and inside I was daring him to push me further.

Defeated, I left to return to quarters a little pissed but realized he hadn’t given me my work schedule for the following week so I doubled back before checking with the next station. When I approached the lockers the guard that was posted had disappeared. I figured maybe he had left since no prisoners were ever back there except me and two others who cleaned. I pressed my way and opened the door closing it very slowly so that it would not make a sound thinking that I’d heard a voice. My heart was pounding against my chest when I recognized the familiar “you’ve got the cock of a stallion. Yeah, that’s a beauty, just slide it in real slow.”

Walking as soft as I could I peeked around the corner and saw the doc, pants around his ankles, and the guard behind him bent slightly at the knees to lower himself to get into the doc’s ass. When the head popped in I could almost feel it myself. The guys cock was much thicker and a little longer than mine, so doc winced and was instantly fucked hard up onto his tiptoes.

The sound was a rhythmic clap, clap, clap that was sending shock waves through the doctor’s hips. I could only imagine how it was tearing him up inside from the look on his face. The guard grimaced and slumped onto the doctor’s back with one hand on his shoulder and another holding him hard by the waste to keep him from running. And, it did look like the doctor wanted to run off that cock to save his ass but it had already been tenderized, claimed and renamed “sloppy fuck hole.”

“Yeah” the guard groveled. “Take that cum up your sloppy fuck hole.”

I could see the great Dr. Swan sweating and gasping for air. “Please” he stuttered. “Take it out! P, ple please it fucking hurts.” But the guard meant to finish what he had started and did so in loud grunts. Swan collapsed on the floor in front of him, turned around to reach for the guard’s leg, but was pushed away and down to the floor.

“Get your hands off me faggot! You ain’t nothing but a bitch!” kaçak casino The doc curled into a fetal position and the guard made his exit out the other end of the room which was usually locked. Part of me felt that he’d gotten what he deserved for picking the guard over me (the convict), another part was hard as steel. As far as I knew they could have known each other on the outside and I’d just witnessed their kink.

“Whatever” I thought, and went back to my cage.

Thinking back to that actually got me a little aroused. I was slowly fingering my cock and wanted some privacy so I put up the sheet. I figured I could jack off before the new cellie hit the floor, or read since they tended to be brought up around 5.

The estimate was wrong. He actually showed up earlier. I found myself drifting in and out of dream images that went through my head. I’d even had a fantasy about fucking the doctor hard and rough, only he started off as a woman named Vanessa, but then her vagina turned into an ass hole that locked my penis in place. The only way I could get free was to come. When she turned around I saw it was Swan, hairy chest like a mangy dog – from dream to a nightmare.

The sound of someone sitting on the other bed is what woke me. The new guy arrived and had already started things off on the wrong foot by ignoring and disrespecting the sheet. “You don’t ignore a man’s sheet” I started saying without looking to see who was there.

“Sorry.” The voice was unexpectedly soft and tiny, the apology was a shock, and the fact that I had an obvious erection somewhat embarrassing. If he was fish he would get used to the sight of hard dicks soon enough was the notion. His best hope was to stay in my place so at least none of them would be coming at him other than Jimmy the Jam, and at that point I would have let him have him for a pack.

“You College, right” he spoke. “I heard about you. Thirty for violent sex assault, and armed robbery.”

“Great” I remember mumbling, thinking the guy sounded like a fag retard. I turned to face him. His soft features came into focus slowly, his dark hair, almond eyes, and golden skin. It dawned on me that the accent was actually Asian and not hair-lip queer.

Over the next few weeks, he wasn’t a nuisance like past cellies. He preferred to read at the same time I did, and even turned me on to a book called “Gods in Alabama” about a White chick dating a Brotha. We talked softly at night, sometimes about cars, women, and even engineering. It had been a while since I’d spoke in future tense which was nice. We laughed, showered, arranged our work schedules to maximize our time and started taking meals together as well. It wasn’t long before the word on the block was that I’d taken a wife.

Chet was smart and clever, and perhaps knew more about me in a short period of time than my own family. But then what did we have but time to share in each other’s story? He didn’t ask if I did it, but what happened. “A bitch hit me and I fucked her” I replied. “It was just that simple.” At that moment I didn’t particularly feel like sitting on some analytical sofa while he drew a connection between sex and violence. I was trying to move beyond the person I had been.

“You still fighting that alley.” Chet murmured. I laughed at that, but heard the sound as though a teleprompter had just displayed queue the track. He let it slide knowing that I didn’t want to get into it, and I left after an uncomfortable silence.

Jam was all in my face about Chet on the court asking if the Asian boy liked being my bitch and taking Black cock. He jammed his dick against my ass when he said that so I pummeled him. He struck back. The friendly game suddenly became rough so Jam wanted to put something on the table. I claimed I didn’t have anything for the challenge, but he told me I did and he wanted it. Just like that, in one stupid move, Chet’s ass was on the line and he didn’t even know it. Jam had called it, if I said it wasn’t mine then that meant my friend was up for grabs. Since I wasn’t working as much as I used to for the doctor, I couldn’t get the supplies that I needed to settle that sort of thing, it didn’t help that the doc was more interested in getting used in the lockers.

Jackson liked Chet and probably would protect him if he fell into his place, but that would mean I’d have to play pimp or swap with Jackson’s ugly ass cellie who was a prick. A nice one but a prick just the same. The only option I had was to beat Jam on the court, or beat him man to man.

The game was close, swoosh. I kept trailing a few points behind. He’d inch ahead but I was good at the 3 pointers, it was the tight shots that I had a problem with. Pading, pading, the guys were hustling on both sides as if THEY had some ass at stake. Swoosh, I tried to rush for another 3 but Jam drew an intentional foul. After that he was all in my face and begging for a fight. “Yeah, I’m gonna pop that pussy.” He made the free throw so his boys only needed one more to win it.

When I got back into place, Chet had gotten a visitor’s basket from commissary and offered me fruit. I managed a thank you but told him to enjoy his givings. “You sure? I got sweets too. I want the chocolate but you have some.”

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