Date: Sat, 29 Mar 2008 08:36:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: justinr_88@yahoo.com
Subject: Doing Hard Time chapter 4

The usual disclaimers and copyright assertions apply. See
the first installment for a complete version of the Author's
Note.
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dropping me a line at the email address above.


                       DOING HARD TIME
                        ~ Chapter 4 ~

From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

It was my first night in prison. I tried to sleep, but
slumber eluded me. Images of the day's events flashed
through my mind. How was I going to get through this for the
rest of my incarceration?

I didn't expect Caleb to respond to my whimpering. I mean,
he'd already done a lot for me, rescuing me from Mitch
earlier. But when he came over to my bunk, I saw in his eyes
an understanding which hadn't been there before. Now feeling
the warmth of his close proximity, I was increasingly aware
that my feelings towards him were more than just gratitude.

My bare skin rubbed against his, and that was enough to send
a rush of blood to my groin. And he knew it too. I felt my
hard-on brush against his leg. He turned over in the narrow
bed to face me.

"Harrison ." his voice trailed off. The way he said my name
told me something. He wanted this as well. I've tried, hard,
over the years to conceal any attraction I've felt to
towards the same sex. No, it didn't happen often; in fact it
was very infrequent, so much so that I had doubted whether
or not I could even consider this to mean I liked men. It
just wasn't safe for me to even come to that conclusion.

But now, in the darkness of my prison cell, I felt those
feelings returning with a vengeance. They overrode the
signals from my brain and focused on the fact that Caleb's
face was only inches away from mine. He looked unsure,
waiting for some reply. Before I knew it, my lips pressed
against his.

He was reluctant at first. I saw his eyes widen with
surprise, and at first he didn't respond to my kiss. Then
the surprise in his eyes was replaced by longing, and his
lips parted. The sensation of being passionately kissed by
another guy was a new one for me, but one that I found very
pleasurable. I couldn't break off our lip lock. He was the
one who suddenly pulled away from me.

"Harrison . I'm not sure about this," he whispered. "Are you
certain you want to do it? I mean, I'm 44 - that's exactly
double your age. You need to think about this."

His confusion mirrored my own. What had come over me? I was
at a loss for words. I couldn't believe I'd let it go this
far. Damn it all, I was actually kissing another man, and
enjoying it too! I couldn't do this. I backed up as far as
possible, until my bare back touched the cold concrete wall.

Caleb realized I was backing away from him. "Harrison ." he
reached out to touch my arm. I flinched, and he quickly
withdrew his hand.

He paused, trying to think of what to say. "I'm sorry. It's
my fault - I let it go too far. I'll go back to my bed." He
started to get off the bunk. I was in a dilemma. Either way,
there would be no turning back. I had to choose, and
quickly.

It was my hand that made the decision for me, the hand that
grasped hold of his arm as he was getting up. "No, please
don't go," I heard my voice.

He looked at me, examining me with his eyes, looking for a
sign that betrayed my uncertainty. I wasn't sure, but I went
ahead anyway. Damn it, I was stuck in this god-forsaken
prison. The previous part of my life was dead - there was no
reason to continue with this farce. To hell with the lies
I've told myself and them over the years, I thought.

So I kissed the closest part of his body - his furry chest.
I heard him gasp with pleasure as my lips brushed against
his nipples. He liked that, I realized. I was new to this,
so I decided to pay attention to the things he liked. I
circled his nipple with my tongue. He sat down heavily on my
bed.

"Harrison, wait," he said firmly. "I don't want you to do
something you are going to regret later."

I looked him in the eye. "I won't regret this," I told him
with conviction. I could tell that he still wanted to
dissuade me, not because he didn't want this, but because he
wanted me to be sure. That was something I had never been
given before - a freedom of choice. I already loved him for
it. If I let him dissuade me, I would lose my nerve. So
rather than engage in conversation, I decided to let my
actions do the talking.

I seized the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, to
his knees. His cock sprung free, about eight inches hard and
thicker than mine. I was assailed by a doubt - could I
really take that thing into my mouth? The time for
hesitation had come and gone. I pushed the amazed look on
Caleb's face out of my mind, and went down on his cock.



From the Narrative of Caleb Fisher:

The shy young man who'd come into my cell earlier in the day
had completely disappeared. I knew he wasn't always so
introverted - the kick he'd delivered to Mitch's groin in
the afternoon had told me he had a fiery side to him as
well. My astonishment was quickly subdued by waves of
pleasure as he sucked my cock. One part of my mind was
screaming, what the hell am I letting to happen? The other
was marveling at the fact that this gorgeous young guy was
actually giving me a blowjob. Not a particularly good one, I
have to admit, but then I'd excuse him on the basis that it
was his first time.

I looked at his head of brown hair, gleaming like burnished
bronze with the light picking out the blonde streaks. Those
sapphire-blue were closed as he concentrated solely on the
task at hand. My god he was beautiful! It should be a crime
for anyone to be that beautiful, I thought. Well if it was,
he was already doing his time. A stupid thought, but for
some reason it made me chuckle. My chuckle turned into an
involuntary cry, "ouch!" as Harrison's teeth dragged across
my foreskin.

He paused and looked up at me, worried. "Am I doing this
right?" he asked nervously.

I gave him an encouraging smile. "You're doing great, but
just be careful with the teeth, okay?"

He nodded and resumed. The blowjob wasn't as toothy as
before. He was sucking vigorously, as if his life depended
on it. I wanted to add, go slower, but I didn't have the
heart to. Before I knew it, waves of pure ecstasy washed
over me.

"I'm cumming," I warned him, expecting him to pull out. But
he didn't. Did he hear me, I wondered, or was he too lost in
the experience himself? Anyway it was too late to do
anything about it. I felt my cock explode as I shot my first
load deep into his throat. He gagged at the suddenness of
it. Feeling worried, I wanted to pull my cock out but he had
his lips fastened firmly around it. He looked at me when he
felt me trying to withdraw; his blue eyes were filled with
determination - he wanted to take my load.

My next few spurts came in quick succession. I was astounded
that he was able to swallow all of it. He seemed to have
gotten used to it easily enough. My, he was a quick learner,
I thought. It was only my last load of the night which he
couldn't take fully; some of it dribbled out of his mouth
and onto his chin.


I was also amazed at the quantity of cum I had produced in
that one session. Admittedly I had been more or less
deprived of sexual relief in prison for more than eight
years now. And the fact that this first blowjob was being
delivered by Harrison definitely factored into the equation.
I saw the satisfied look on his face as he straightened up.
He smiled at me, oblivious to the trickle of cum on his
chin. I reached out to wipe it off. He licked it off my
finger.

The look on his face was more than satisfaction. He was
looking at me as if he was clearly seeing the light for the
first time. My elation was dissipated as I realized the
enormity of the situation. I was really in trouble now.


From the Narrative of Harrison Ridgeway IV:

Caleb seemed weirdly out of it after I gave him the blowjob.
I knew he'd enjoyed it, yet now it was as if our roles were
reversed. I was confused. All he said before lying down next
to me on the bed, "Thanks, Harry."

Why was he so distant? Had I done something wrong? I could
still taste his cum in my mouth. It was different from what
I'd expected. I decided that I liked it. I don't just mean
the taste of cum, but also the fact that he'd called me
Harry. No one ever called me that since Josh, my best friend
in high school. Strange I'd thought of him twice in the past
few hours. I had tried to block him out of my mind since
that night before our senior year exams.

We'd first become best friends in our junior year of high
school. We both shared the same interests in basketball,
music, even clothes. Our mothers said we were as close as
brothers. I don't have any siblings except a sister, who was
five years older than me. Josh was an only child.

For years I'd blamed him for breaking up our friendship. But
now as I thought about it, I was the one at fault. Why
couldn't I have just acknowledged the fact that I might like
guys? I knew that now, beyond the shadow of a doubt.

We often slept over at each other's houses, studying late
into the night before our exams. It was on such an occasion,
that the incident that would permanently drive a wedge into
our friendship occurred. At the time I wasn't uncomfortable
with stripping in front of other guys; all that would change
because of that night.

It was 1 a.m., and we both decided to call it a night. I
stripped down to my boxers. Josh made his usual joke about
me being as pretty as a girl. I didn't think much of it; he
always said that. My only response was to throw a pillow at
him, which led into a pillow fight before we went to sleep.

I don't know what woke me. I opened my eyes to see Josh
looking at me with unconcealed desire, his hand hovering an
inch above my bare chest. It was obvious what he was up to.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled at him.
He froze in shock, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I . I ." he stumbled over his words. I didn't give him a
chance to explain.

"You're fucking gay, aren't you? Get away from me!" I
yelled, not caring if I woke his parents.

He looked scared and hurt. "Harry, please . I just couldn't
resist ."

I didn't want to listen to his explanation. I grabbed my
clothes and ran out of the room, slamming the door in his
face as he tried to follow.

The next day, I avoided him but he managed to corner me. He
was distraught.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what I was thinking. Please
don't let this get in the way of our friendship. Please,
Harry," he begged.

"Don't. Call. Me. Harry," I said through clenched teeth.
"And I never want to see you again." I left him looking
crushed and never turned back. We never spoke again.

Now that I look back at it, I realize that I'd lashed out at
him because I was scared of what I might discover about
myself. I felt like hitting myself for treating Josh that
way. He was probably my only sincere friend, someone who
didn't see me as just a wealthy congressman's son. When - if
- I ever got out of prison, I would try to make it up to
him, I thought. Who was I kidding? I'd never have the nerve
to face up to him after what I'd done. I'd even refused to
listen when my mom had tried to reconcile us. Of course she
had no idea why we'd stopped being friends.

I must have drifted off to sleep.

I was in a dark alley, lit only by the flash of blue and red
lights. I stared at my hands, which were stained dark
crimson.

"Get away from him and put your hands up."

"I didn't do it. You've got to believe me."


"You heard me. Put your hands up, slowly."

"It wasn't me!" I backed away.

"Stand still." The policeman grabbed my hands behind my back
and snapped on the handcuffs. I struggled and ...

. woke up. I was in my prison cell. For a moment, I stared
at my hands, half-expecting them to be bloodstained. They
weren't, of course. I couldn't sleep; my chest still felt
constricted. I got off the bed, careful not to wake Caleb
who was fast asleep. I watched his chest rise and fall with
his breathing.

I wandered aimlessly in the small cell, looking through the
window to see the moonlit yard. I looked down. The drawer in
which Caleb kept his things was partially open. I could see
the book he'd been reading earlier. Curious to see what he'd
been reading, I picked it up.

The dim light showed the gold words embossed on the leather,
`The Holy Bible'. I was surprised; Caleb didn't seem like
the particularly religious type. I was about to put it back,
when I realized the pages were uneven. On closer
examination, I discovered it was because there were papers
stuffed into the book. I pulled one of them out and froze.

It was a newspaper cutting. Framed next to the headline was
my photo!

                      To be continued .


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