Let The World Go By
This is a story that involves sex between males. If such a story is offensive or illegal for you to read where you live then do not continue go and surf elsewhere.
While this is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons, there may be some similarity to some real persons or events every attempt has been made to make this non-apparent.
The work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
I want to thank all of you who have sent me comments about the story -- even those who didn't like it.
Myron was roused from his sleep by the telephone ringing near his ear. Shaking the sleep from his head he answered it.
"You remember you're due here at ten o'clock," it was his attorney reminding him that he was to surrender himself at the courthouse today. There had been no trial since he pleaded guilty to the charges. He remembered well enough, he had had nightmares of nothing else these passed two days. The thought of going to prison filled him with a dread that wouldn't go away.
"I'll be there," Myron said gloomily and hung up the phone. Slowly he climbed out of bed and walked to the window. He'd made arrangements for the woman next door to clean his room and store his things until he could figure out what to do the few things of his that were worth anything.
He stood looking down at the street for the last time and he broke down.
The dark maroon sedan pulled into Chesterville from the East, and made its way to the courthouse. A tall blonde, uniformed man climbed out and climbed slowly up the steps to the entrance of the courthouse. It was not a bright sunny day, as the others had been for the past couple of days. The overcast seemed to anticipate ill for someone. Giles Simpson looked up before going inside to see if it might rain later. Although the sky was gray, it was not the kind of gray that forecast rain, just gray.
Inside he walked through the hallway to the Sheriff's Office. He'd been here before, but not often. He looked at the name on the folder he carried: Myron Olson, aged 22, in violation of State Liquor Statutes.
Hmmm, he said to himself, Must have really been careless to get caught selling it to minors. That, was the only thing that it could have been, or he was just plain stupid, he thought. He looked at himself in the reflection in the glass door, and adjusted his hat. He always liked to look his best.
He handed the papers to the secretary seated behind the desk.
Miss Curtis, a gray-haired woman some fifty or so pounds overweight, smiled and took the folder from him, "Sheriff Johnson will be right out." She shuffled back to the closed office door, rapped lightly and walked in. A moment later she returned, and smiled at him again.
Another minute and the Sheriff came out. Ellen Curtis and Alex Johnson had gone to school together and neither had aged very gracefully.
"I'm Giles Simpson," Giles said introducing himself.
"Sheriff Johnson," Alex responded, "Have a seat. Myron will be here shortly."
Giles smiled and took a seat in the straight-backed bench along the wall. Didn't even lock him up, he thought, must be a nice kid. He picked up a magazine and was about to open it when Myron came in. His lawyer had told him how to dress, and since he didn't have anyone to come and pick up his clothes, he wore jeans and sweatshirt. Those and his tennis shoes, he'd loose, and they'd just give them to who ever needed them when they checked out. Neither the jeans nor the sweatshirt was very special; they were clean and neat, but nowhere close to new.
Giles tried not to notice how sexy it made him look, but despite his efforts he felt a stirring in his loins. He waited as Myron announced himself to Ellen.
"Just wait there," she pointed to the bench where Giles was sitting.
The two young men looked at each other. Instant recognition jumped between them, but neither acknowledged it. Giles tried to concentrate on the magazine and Myron starred straight ahead.
Sheriff Johnson came out of his office and put the papers down on the desk for Giles to sign.
"You take good care of him," Alex said motioning to Myron, "He's a good boy."
Giles smiled, "Yes, Sir," he answered, "I surely will. He'll be back here before you know it."
"You be good, Myron," Alex said in his most fatherly manner.
"Yes, Sir, I will," Myron answered trying to look him in the eye, but failing, which resulted in his looking very despondent.
"Let's go, Olson," Giles said authoritatively. Myron followed a little way behind Giles. Together they made their way to the car. Giles was about to open the back door of the car, and then changed his mind.
"Hell," he said, "You ain't going to try to get away, are you?"
Without waiting for Myron to answer, he said, "Of course not. You might as well sit up in front with me. That way neither of us has to shout. I'll put the cuffs on you when we get out in St. Cloud. Okay?"
Myron had no idea what was usual, and he just nodded. He climbed in the front side when Giles opened the door for him.
Giles returned to the driver-side and got behind the wheel. He started the engine and deftly guided the four-door sedan out of the parking lot, and headed back toward the highway.
Myron slumped down in the seat not eager to be seen riding in the State Police car. Although it had only the State license plates for markings, the dark maroon color was all too familiar to even these residences to miss recognizing.
Once the car was out on the highway heading East past the small airport, Myron was more comfortable, and sat up a bit.
"Don't worry, Myron," Giles said, "it isn't so bad."
Getting no response he rambled on, "Oh, it's no picnic, but I know that there are worse prisons in the country, I've heard that from some of the people who've had experience in that sort of thing. Do you smoke?" Giles asked.
"Yeah," Myron answered, taking out his pack of cigarettes.
"No," Giles smiled, "I didn't mean those. I meant grass."
"Grass?" Myron wasn't even familiar with the term.
"Yeah, marijuana," Giles answered.
"Oh," Myron answered shyly, "No."
"You've got a treat coming then," Giles said, "Most everyone in the joint does. In and about the place, on the sly, of course, but just the same, most everybody does."
Myron had heard about it, even smelled someone smoking it once, but he hadn't actually known what it was, or why someone would want to smoke a weed.
"When we get a little further out of town, we'll stop a bit and relax," Giles said looking at Myron.
As the miles passed, he felt that his life was slipping away with them. Everything that he had, or ever wanted to have was gone, or soon would be.
Abruptly he was jolted from his reverie as Giles pulled the car off the highway and onto the dirt road that led to a grove of trees along what looked like a stream of some sort. Myron didn't recognize it and he sat upright in the seat and looked about.
"Hey relax," Giles said, "We're just taking a rest stop."
He grinned at Myron, "I haven't taken a piss since I left the City." With the highway out of sight and the car hidden among the trees, he pulled to a stop.
Myron tried to relax. It was just the sort of place he would have liked to go to, when he had someone with him that he liked to be with.
Giles turned off the engine and took the keys, "Come on," he said, "Take a stretch. Me, I got to piss something bad." He groped himself, and climbed out. He walked around to Myron's side of the car and opened the door. Giles reached into his shirt pocket and took out a pre-rolled joint, and lighted it.
Myron got out and stood up. It did feel good to stretch, even though they hadn't been driving that long. His nervousness had caused all his muscles to tighten. He watched as Giles took a hit of the joint. To him it looked like a regular hand-rolled cigarette only slightly smaller. When Giles handed it to him he took it.
Myron took a small puff on it and repeated what Giles had done with it. When he inhaled it however, he choked on it and began coughing violently. Giles laughed as Myron handed it back to him.
"You got the right idea," Giles said. "But you got to take more air in with it. That way it ain't so strong." He took another hit and handed it back to Myron. "Let the air come around the weed when you puff on it."
Myron did as he was directed and this time it felt cooler not so irritating, and handed it back to Giles. He was able to hold the pungent fumes in his lungs a much longer time. Immediately he began to feel the effects of it.
Giles turned slightly away from him, but not so much that he wasn't able to see Myron. He unzipped his fly and struggled to get his cock out of his underwear and uniform trousers.
Myron watched as he saw Giles' large darkly colored cock began to spew forth a stream of hot fluid, sending the stream into the tall grass beside the road.
"You like it, don't you? I knew you would," Giles said grinning.
Myron wasn't sure which Giles was referring to, the grass or his dick. He looked at Giles in the face and determined that it was his dick. He had to admit that the cock was nice to look at, long and full with a lot of dark skin covering it. He watched intently as Giles shook it and milked out the last few drops of urine.
"Come over," Giles said, beckoning with his head, "Let's see what you got."
Myron was stunned by the proposal. He'd never had anyone so openly invite him to display himself for them.
"Don't be shy," Giles said frowning a bit as he continued to milk his cock that was beginning to respond by growing in both length and breadth, "Do you think that you're the only one who likes to fool around with guys?"
Myron move slowly closer to where he was standing, and undid the buttons on his jeans. Already his own cock was beginning to harden, from watching Giles play with his, and from the suggestion of things to come.
In a few minutes both men stood next to each other stroking themselves, exhibiting large rigid cocks, very nearly the same size, with only the color difference to distinguish them one from another.
Giles was beginning to feel tingly and urgent. "Suck me off," he said dropping his hand from his cock. It stood out straight from his body.
Obediently Myron dropped to his knees in front of the uniformed policeman and began dutifully sucking the beautiful dark cock.
"Leave yours alone," Giles said, "That's for me to do." He closed his eyes and enjoyed Myron's expert ministrations. He soon erupted in spasms of ecstasy, sending forth spurts of hot cum into Myron's eager throat. He grasped Myron's head and held it tightly to his crotch as he flooded his throat with more sticky fluid. Myron's tongue continued to play across the deep purple glans that retreated back into his mouth.
"Ohhh," Giles moaned, "You do that so good." He let him continue for a moment and then withdrew it from his mouth. Giles looked down at Myron's upturned face, and further down at the inviting nearly stiff cock that hung down touching the grass below. Giles was sorry he hadn't taken more time with it though. But then time wasn't something he had a lot of.
"Now it's my turn to enjoy," he said, lifting Myron from his kneeling position. He then knelt down on the grass and took Myron's long white cock into his mouth.
Myron stood tall and stiff before his captor, still unsure of what was transpiring, still not sure that he wasn't being trapped into something. The feeling of entrapment was quickly replaced by the bliss of having this gorgeous blonde policeman sucking his urgent cock. It was all over in a quick moment, as his mind could not control the passion within his body. Giles moaned in pleasure as he took all the Myron had to offer, swallowing desperately to keep from loosing any of the precious liqueurs of this handsome Nordic god, perhaps the last so freely given.
Giles re-lighted the joint and took a hit, then offered Myron it to Myron, who declined.
They relaxed a few moments before straightening out their clothing and getting back on the road toward Myron's new home.
Myron stood sober faced and frightened in front of the desk of the officer in charge of newcomers. The man was, he judged, perhaps forty-five or so. His dark countenance and brooding eyes held a hint that he actually enjoyed what he was doing: striking fear into the heart of the new inmate, fear not only of the guards, but of the other inmates as well.
"So you see," he said smiling only slightly, "We have our means, and they have theirs."
Myron was still in the dark as to what that really meant.
As he was to find out later, no one ever talked about it in specific terms, only vague generalities. But it would be just moments and he would find out what it was.
Guard Johnson, as he called himself, said, "Okay Olson, it's time for you to get your new clothes." He pointed to a small pile of fresh denim jeans and shirt on the desk. "You may begin," he said sitting down behind his desk and leaning back in the chair. A smirk came across his lips as he watched Myron standing not knowing exactly what he was to do.
"Go ahead," Johnson said, "Take off your clothes," he smiled a little more, "We have to make sure you didn't bring in any contraband."
Myron quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He folded it and set it on the desk next to the new outfit. Then he undid his jeans and slipped them off after kicking off his shoes.
"Wait!" Johnson ordered, as Myron reached for the new shirt. "Everything!"
Myron looked shocked, he only had on his shorts and socks, where did he think I'd be carrying anything, he wondered.
Myron bent down and took off his socks. He set them on top of the jeans. He was beginning to get nervous as he looked once again at Johnson, who was starring intently at his crotch and rubbing his own. The mere sight of the bulge in Johnson's tight fitting uniform caused an immediate reaction within his own shorts, a stiffening that he was at a loss to control.
"Don't be embarrassed," Johnson leered, "I've seen 'em all, the big and the small!" he laughed loudly and began coughing, making an almost gurgling sound.
What the hell, Myron thought, let him see if he wants to. He slipped out of his underwear and laid them also on the desk. Johnson gasped, as he tried to control his coughing.
"Well," he said at last, "I see they grow 'em big out where you come from."
Myron had never thought of himself as being particularly big.
Johnson stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. He looked down at Myron's bobbing cock that now stood fully erect and straight out from his body.
"Okay, Olson," he said as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. "Turn around so I can examine you."
Myron did as he was told, turning slowly so that he was facing away from Johnson. "Now bend over and spread your cheeks." Again Myron did as he was told.
Myron felt the gloved hands on his butt as his head began to spin. Panicky, he tightened the muscles in his butt. His trepidation increased as a finger began probing his anal opening.
"Relax. Relax!" came the stern voice from behind him. "I gotta check you out." He tried to relax, but the position was not conducive to relaxing very much. He'd always had trouble with that position, even when he was with someone he knew and trusted.
"I said relax!" The voice was not gentle and the finger pushed even harder at his clench ass. He felt the finger go away momentarily, and return. This time it was different, and slowly it went inside.
He moaned softly was the probing finger touched his prostrate. The pleasure was surely there, even if he wasn't enjoying it.
"Oh, you like that?" The Johnson asked. He didn't answer. "You'd better, you're going to get a lot of it. You've got a cute white ass, and I know some of your new friends are really gonna like to get a hold of it!" Johnson laughed sadistically. The finger came out, and he relaxed, and started to straighten up.
"I didn't tell you to move!" Johnson said sharply, "I might as well take my turn first, before you get all worn out!" Myron felt the rough hand on his back, pushing him back into position. This time there was no chance that he was wrong about what was going to happen next. From what he'd seen, Johnson was no small-dicked man. He quickly found out that what he'd suspected was true, as Johnson roughly shoved his hard cock into the slightly lubricated opening. He groaned as the long hard shaft of the guard penetrated him.
"Ohhh!" Johnson moaned, "Oh, you're nice and tight!"
Johnson pumped hard, shoving him up against the wall where he could brace himself with his head. Johnson was one of those quickie types, and shot his load with only a few more thrusts. He held tightly onto Myron's hips as he finished emptying himself into Myron's tender behind. The roughness of the intrusion had shocked his body so that he had lost his own erection, which hung limply in front of his body. The stimulation was sufficient to cause a minor ejaculation that now dripped slowly from his cock.
Johnson withdrew quickly, "You'd better get dressed now before someone comes in."
Myron breathed a small sigh of relief and turned around to get his new clothes.
"Here," Johnson said tossing him a rag, "Clean yourself up a bit." Myron took the rag and wiped his behind and then after folding the rag wiped the bit of cum from his cock. He quickly pulled on his heavily starched denim jeans and shirt. He stuffed his underwear into a pocket and then sat down to put on the heavy socks and work shoes that had been sitting on the floor in front of the desk.
Johnson meanwhile had cleaned himself off and re-buttoned his uniform and adjusted his still full cock within the shorts he wore.
"You're a good fuck," he laughed, "Real good!" Myron tried not to show his hatred for the man as he finished dressing.
"You'll get over it," Johnson said. "It probably won't be me the next time, but there'll be a next time, that's for sure.
"Now, follow me, I'll show you where you'll be bunking for the next six months or so."
That's when it hit him. How long he was going to be here! His sentence was six months, with time off for good behavior. With what he'd just experienced, he wondered if that it is what the phrase meant.
It was just the beginning. He'd just gotten relaxed and was sitting on his bunk when he heard the footsteps of someone coming down the corridor. He stood up peered down the hallway and watched as a guard, a different one, brought a group of men back from somewhere. They stopped at the various cells in the row, and gradually the group dwindled until there was just one remaining. The man who stood in front of his cell was a huge Black man, tall and muscular, with an evil looking countenance. His hair was cut very short, just a heavy stubble remained. There was a nasty looking scar across one cheek.
"You've a new roomie," the guard said, laughing. "Just the kind you like!"
Myron watched in horror as the guard opened the heavy steel door and the man sauntered in, and the door clanged shut behind him. Even though Myron couldn't see them, he heard the laughter of the others in the cellblock. His eyes were glued on the man.
"Hello, Kid," the man said in a dry raspy voice, "My name's Jenks, what's yours?" Jenks stood six feet 9 inches tall and weighed almost two hundred fifty pounds. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned to nearly his waist showing his hairy chest. Normally the uniform was loose fitting, but on Jenks if was far from baggy. His trousers were pulled taut across his crotch and his butt. It was easy to see that he wore boxers or no underwear at all, his massive cock hung down his right pant leg, and formed a tube-like shadow a third of the way to his knee. Even the outline of his cock head could be seen.
"Olson, Myron Olson," he swallowed hard, his voice nearly failed him, but he had remembered what Giles had told him about speaking up and sounding confident.
"Good to meet you, Myron," Jenks said roughly.
"Nice to meet you too, Jenks," Myron responded warmly, trying his best to sound relaxed.
The two men studied each other for a long while before either spoke. Myron couldn't think of anything he dared asked Jenks. Giles had told him of the unwritten rule about asking what the other person was in for, usually one didn't want to know.
"Don't worry, Kid," Jenks said finally, "I ain't no murderer. At least, not yet," he broke into laughter.
Myron didn't think it was particularly funny, but he laughed anyway. He turned as he heard a guard walking back toward their cell. It was funny, he thought, how quickly he was able to tell the sound of a guard walking, as opposed to a prisoner.
The door clanged open.
"Jenks," came the command, "You take Olson here down to the showers and see to it that he gets clean." There was a certain mirth in the guard's voice.
Jenks didn't respond, he just nodded. Myron got up and followed Jenks out of the cell.
"I'll be down to get you in thirty minutes, Jenks. See to it that he's done by the time I come to get you." Again Jenks just nodded.
Myron wasn't sure whether it was better with or without a guard being around, after his experience with the first one.
"Come on, Kid, let's go," Jenks said almost softly.
Myron walked just slightly back of and to one side of the large man looking almost like a little boy next to him. His heart beat rapidly as he tried to imagine what was going to happen next. Giles had told him some of what he might experience in the showers.
They walked the length of the cellblock and through the open doorway to the stairs. The showers were downstairs, and two flights at that. Myron had ample time to become panicky. Jenks didn't seem to notice.
There was another guard at the entrance to the shower room, he handed each of them a towel, which they took in silence. Myron thought he saw the guard wink at Jenks, though he said nothing. Jenks just nodded and they went inside. The door slammed shut behind them. It was another heavy steel door, with just a small barred window with a solid sliding window in it. The small window was closed.
There were toilets in the shower room along with a large area with showerheads and controls along two walls.
"If you got to, you'd better take a shit, before you shower," Jenks said softly.
Myron pondered the suggestion a moment, and then thinking of what was ahead decided to try. He selected one of the three stools and sat down. Jenks sat down on the one furthest from him and starred straight ahead. He was so nervous it took him a long time to get the relief he needed. A short time later Jenks finished and pulled up his pants. Myron noticed out of the corner of his eye how big Jenks was. He'd never seen a cock that large before, and it didn't look hard, just full.
When he finished, Myron stood up and pulled his pants up. Jenks was standing with his back to him. As the sound of the toilet flushed filled the room, Jenks turned around.
"I guess I'd might was well take a shower too, as long as I have the chance." He started undressing. Myron almost afraid of what could happen next, slowly undressed. His eyes were glued to Jenks' body as the large man stripped. Just the sight of it stimulated Myron, and he was embarrassed by the fact that he was getting a hardon.
Jenks noticed and smiled, not a big smile, just sort of a grin that turned up the corner of his mouth opposite the side of his face that was unsacred.
"Hey," he said, "Don't be ashamed of it, you got a nice piece. We'll get along just fine." He groped himself slightly as if to fluff himself up a bit.
Myron's eyes widened as the heavy black dick began to stiffen.
"Oh," Jenks said softly, "Don't worry. I ain't gonna fuck you, that's what they all expect me to do. I never do," he explained. "But, you gotta do what I say, you understand?"
"No," Myron answered haltingly.
"Well, let me 'splain it to you," he said, "I don't like fucking someone that don't want to git fucked. If'n I fuck you, it'll be 'cus you wanna, see?"
"But," Jenks paused, "I don't want the rest to know that. It'd ruin my image." He grinned his slight grin again.
Myron nodded he was beginning to understand.
"And," Jenks said, "You gotta act like I did, even if I didn't, understand?
"Cus if you don't, I can, ya know," Jenks smiled again.
"I'm sure," Myron said softly.
"Damn right, I can," Jenks smiled a big smile this time and stroked his weighty cock, which now was fully hard and stuck out from under his large hand more than a length equal to what Myron had fully exposed. It was a satiny black color and Myron longed to touch it. He could imagine what it felt like and this thought strengthened his own erection causing it to pulse wildly, almost to the point of orgasm.
A shiver went up his spine they stood opposite each other in that moment before Jenks turned away and turned on the water of the shower beside him. Myron turned away also and adjusted the water in his shower. He tried not to think about what Jenks had told him, about what could happen if he didn't go along with the man, the man he was likely to have to share a room with for the duration of his stay in this awful place.
He concentrated on showering, rubbing soap into his longish light colored hair and rinsing it out again. He lathered his body with the same soap, feeling refreshed by the tingling effects of the strong soap. He had about forgotten the implied threat in Jenks' words.
Myron jumped when he felt a massive hand on his back.
"It's just me," Jenks said, "I'll wash your back if you do mine."
Myron tried to relax as Jenks massaged the soap up and down his back. At the same time he was stimulated by the touch of the hands on his body, and the occasional bump of the enormous semi-hard cock against his butt.
"Okay," Jenks said softly, "it's my turn."
Myron turned around to begin.
"Oh, ya like that, huh?" Jenks touched Myron's hard cock with the back of his hand.
Myron nodded, as he looked down at the big black shaft protruding from the front of his companion.
"Me too," Jenks smiled. Slowly he turned away from Myron's gaze.
Myron took the bar of soap and began soaping up the broad, well-muscled back of the man in front of him. In all his days, he'd never touched a Black man, much less washed his back. He rubbed the soap well into the skin creating a lather of slippery foam. He massaged the wide shoulders and arms often bumping Jenks's butt with his own hard cock. Jenks didn't seem take notice. Once Myron felt Jenks's cheeks grab at his dick. Then he worked his way down the long torso. He was reluctant at first to go lower than the waist, but gradually continued on down.
He could tell that what he was doing pleased Jenks by the moans he heard coming from his throat.
Myron was startled by the sound of metal on metal as the window in the door moved aside.
"Ten minutes!" came a voice from the other side, and the window slammed shut again.
"Damn!" Jenks said softly. Myron backed a little ways away as the black giant turned around to face him. The enormous cock struck him in the mouth. It pulsed and rose to nearly touch his navel in front of him before dropping to stand straight out again. Myron stood up quickly and their cocks touched momentarily. Jenks's hand reached out and clasp Myron's pulsing organ. Involuntarily he thrust his hips against the pressure and released his pent-up tension and sprayed Jenks with his semen. His knees started to give way and he put his hands out on Jenks to steady himself.
"God!" Jenks hissed. "You were really loaded."
"I guess," Myron sighed as he felt his cock start to soften still dripping with cum. He surprised himself since he had cum with Giles not long ago, and a little with the first guard who had fucked him.
Jenks took Myron's hand and gently put it on his own throbbing cock. Myron's hand moved instinctively stroking it slowly. Jenks thrust his hip against the pressure of Myron's hand and quickly climaxed. Myron felt the hot spurts against his body as the huge cock spewed forth the fruit of his large hairy balls. Myron stopped his stroking motion when the pulsing stopped. He moved his fingers to the hot purple colored head and rubbed the last cum across its glossy silk like surface. Jenks moaned in pleasure filled release.
Myron smiled. "You were full too."
"Yeah. Your hand is sure smooth feeling on my dick. You know how to do that well."
"Thanks," he grinned, "Lots of practice on my own."
"Five minutes!" once again came a voice from the other side, and the window slammed shut again.
Jenks put his face into the water and vigorously rinsed off the soap and the slime.
Myron did the same, hurrying to get the soap off his body. He wished that he could taste the cum from this man. He smiled to himself as he thought, I'm sure I'll get a chance for that later.
Jenks turned off his water and grabbed his towel, as Myron was already reaching for the knob on his shower.
"Come here!" Jenks ordered sharply.
Myron froze in his mind, but his body obeyed and he stood trembling in front of Jenks.
"I gotta do this," Jenks said and with the back of his hand he slapped Myron across the face, nearly knocking him to the floor, and before Myron could raise a hand to defend himself, he was struck on the other side of his face, this time he did drop to the floor from the force of the blow.
Myron felt something warm trickling down his chin, instinctively his tongue licked at it. He knew at once that it was blood.
"Sorry, Kid," Jenks said, "But you gotta look like you resisted me. Otherwise they might get the wrong idea, understand?"
Myron nodded moping the blood from his face with the towel.
Both of the cheeks were red from the blows, and stinging. Tears of pain flooded his eyes.
"It won't happen again," Jenks said extending his hand to pull Myron from the floor and then he put his arms around him suddenly.
Myron felt the soft dark lips press gently onto his own. And he opened his eyes to see the tears in the big man's eyes.
"I like you, Kid," he said as he backed away.
Sheer exhaustion, thankfully, and he finished the night with a somewhat fitful sleep. Dawn brought his first full day in prison. The clanging of batons on the bars nearly caused him to jump up from his bunk. Jenks, who apparently had already been up, put his hand on his shoulder.
"It's just our alarm clock," he said softly. Myron wiped the sleep from his eyes with the backs of his hands and stretched before climbing out of his bunk.
"My, my," Jenks said chuckling quietly, "We're up early today."
Myron had forgotten he was sleeping in the nude, and his usual morning erection had nothing to hold it back. It swung before him as he made his way to the toilet in the corner of the room. He tried not to notice how Jenks watched him as he stood pissing into the stool.
Likewise, Jenks tried not to notice that Myron saw that the sight of his bare behind was turning him on. He looked away as the guard passed directly in front of their cell.
"Got yourself another cute wife, heh, Jenks?" The guard snickered loudly.
"Fuck off," Jenks spat back at him contemptuously, added loud enough to let the others hear, "You only wish it was you in here with him."
"That'll be enough of that," the guard retorted angrily as the chuckles of the neighboring inmates rose to laughter.
Myron looked sheepishly at Jenks as he started to pull on his clothes.
"Time for a shower," the guard hollered down the aisle.
"Take just your towel and shorts," Jenks told Myron quietly, "And stick close to me."
Ten men at a time were passed down to the shower room, while the remainder stood in line waiting their turn. As one group would come out, another would take his place.
Whether it was an honest mistake, or a deliberate miscount on the part of the guard, but eleven men went in the next time separating Myron from Jenks. Myron who was standing in front of Jenks had no recourse but to go on ahead of him, following behind the first ten men.
He tried not to show that he was frightened by the turn of events, and went quickly to the shower and began soaping up. Since he'd shampooed the night before, he decided to skip it this morning.
"Don't forget your hair, Kid," he heard someone call out to him. The next thing he realized, someone was soaping up his hair while someone else was holding him, tightly from behind. He had to close his eyes to keep the soap from running into them. Even so, enough did get in to cause the involuntary tightening of them closed. With his arms closely pinned to his sides, he could do nothing to get the soap out except to try to run water into them. But he was being held away from the water, it was no use to struggle.
He was led away from the water and held in a bent-over position. He grew panicky as he realized what was coming next. He somehow remembered what Giles had told him about that kind of situation. He relaxed totally, nearly falling from the arms of his captor. The first one was the worst, after that it was more pleasurable than painful. He lost count after the sixth one finished; he guessed that nearly all ten of them had a turn at him. He was thankful that none of them was as hefty as Jenks; he doubted that he could have taken that.
When they were finished, he was led back to the water and left standing in the full force of the shower, to try to get the soap from his stinging eyes. By the time he was able to see again, Jenks was beside him.
"You okay, Kid?" he asked trying to comfort the shaking body before him.
"Yeah," he managed to answer, "I'll be okay once I get the soap all out of my eyes."
"That was a mean trick the guard pulled, separating us like that. I should have known he would do something like that."
"I'm okay, Jenks," Myron said, "Honest I am." In reality, his behind was still stinging too, as much from the soap as from the penetrations.
The other men around them, giggled to themselves, but didn't dare to say anything while Jenks was around. They knew that he would have done to them, what the others had done to Myron, only worse. Despite the pain it inflicted on himself, Jenks was noted for drying his rock hard cock before trying to enter someone he really wanted to hurt. That was something no one wanted to experience. With lubrication, and lots of it, nearly everyone who was into it, would have been glad if he would do it, but without it, a hospital was the only place one could go afterward.
"What took you so long, Kid," he smirked, "Get delayed?"
Even though the ones who had attacked Myron were a little afraid of what Jenks might do, they were not that frightened of him. There was little he could do if they stayed in a group.
Jenks realized the situation he was in, and only glared at them as he passed, though he swore under his breath.
Although Jenks was careful to see to it that he and Myron were together the rest of the day, Myron was sure that it was just a matter of time before it would happen again. Myron stood looking out at the gray sky through the small window high on the wall of his cell. He thought about his first day of his confinement. It sent a shiver through his slim body as if a cold wind had brush his back. Although it was over, he could still feel the trauma his first experience with the criminal element of society. He had yet to come to grips with the fact that he was now part of that community. The humiliation that they engendered in him was beyond his wildest nightmares about it.
Darkness settled upon the prison, and the long night began. With Jenks as he protector and cellmate, he felt secure while they were locked in their cells. It was those brief periods when the cells were unlocked, and when the inmates were allowed to roam freely through the cellblocks that he was frightened. And there were several times during each day when that situation occurred. He was thankful when the lights went out and the now familiar clanging of the electric locks indicated that all the cells were locked. He and Jenks were safe within their cell.
He sat down on his bunk and lay back. Only the soft glow from the security lights high above in the cellblock aisles gave light to the cell. He could see Jenks still standing, smoking a last cigarette. He was like an angry bull elephant plotting an attack, pacing slowly back and forth across the room.
"Jenks?" Myron whispered.
"Yeah, Kid," came the answer, and the hulk moved his direction.
"Forget about it," Myron said, "I'll be okay."
Jenks sat down on the bunk beside him. "I hope so," he said brushing aside the long hair from his cheek, "I hate to see them get at you like that."
Myron was surprised at how gentle he was. The huge hands could have crushed his face in a single blow, yet now the large fingers caressed his face. He reached up with his own hand and touched Jenks black face tenderly.
"Kiss me, Jenks," Myron said almost silently, "Kiss me." He pulled the giant man's head toward his own, and felt the thick, full lips pressing gently against his. His blood raced as he felt the warmth and affection grow between them.
He could still feel the hurt of the morning's intrusions, but he whispered, "Take me, Jenks. I want you to." He let his fingers grope in the darkness for the massive sex that he knew was there. Dressed for bed as they were, only the thin underwear separated them from each other. He felt the hardening cock nearly bursting forth from the skimpy material, the warmth and moistness of the massive glans still covered by its ample foreskin. His fingers wrapped around the dark shaft and stroked it slowly.
"Wait," Jenks said softly, and he got up and walked to his side of the room. In the drawer for his clothes and personal things, he located a large jar of Vaseline. He returned to find Myron on his bunk nude upon the rough blanket. He could see the smooth white skin gleaming in the near darkness.
"It's not going to be easy," Jenks whispered.
"I know," Myron trembled, "I know."
Later Myron lay quietly on his bunk, now covered by the blanket and still tingling from the massive tool that had explored and exploded deep inside him. His own sex had issued forth its rich load into the rough hand of his lover. Even now, hours later, he was nearly as hard as he had been then. He had nearly fainted from the initial pain, but he had bitten his lips to keep from crying out. Jenks had been a gentle as he could be, and had wept at the pain he inflicted on his soft body.
But now, Myron felt, they were one, nothing could ever hurt him again, or come between them. Jenks kissed him one more time, and went to his own bunk to sleep and to dream. He too was safe at last, with someone to love, and someone to love him.
To be continuedIf you have any comments or suggestions, please send them to Richard firstname.lastname@example.org Please include the story title and part # in the subject line of your e-mail.