Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008 00:17:44 +0100
From: Gary Cutter <gcutter66@gmail.com>
Subject: WORMWOOD SCRUBS SCRUBBER

WARNING: This story is homoerotic in content. This means that it may and
probably will involve male on male sex of various ages. If this sort of
thing offends you then what the hell are you doing reading Nifty/Gay. Also
note that my characters do not wear condoms and that is because they are
FICTIONAL. You must be above the Age of Consent in your particular area of
the planet to read this sort of stuff or allow minors access but you knew
that anyway.

These are stories of youth and boys and once again they are FICTIONAL.

Crap title but I hope the story comes out better. Sorry if it's a bit
lengthy, it's a bit of a trip down memory lane. But never fear, it does get
around to sex.

Finally: Enjoy. If you have spare please donate a little cash to NIFTY.
Keep Nifty free and keep NIFTY alive.



WORMWOOD SCRUBS SCRUBBER



by



G. Cutter



Before I kick off I've got to expain the title to the non English readers.
Wormwood Scrubs is a prison in West London and a 'scrubber' is a young lady
of loose morals, the term can also be used for a young man... that's that
and here we go.

I spent three years in HMP (Her Majesty's Prison) Wormwood Scrubs in 1971
when I was obviously much younger. I'd turned eighteen at the time of my
trial so I got sent there rather than to a Young Offenders Institute which
may or may not have been a lot jollier but I never got to find out. I was
jailed for love (dramatic or what?). When I was seventeen I worked in a
Millets Store which was a camping, workwear, and outdoor suppliers and I
fell in love with the part time boy who used to help out. OK, so the kid
was only fifteen but he was a sweety, he was bitch rather than butch I
desired him and he seemed to like me, so far so good. Over a period of time
that liking turned to affection and eventually we went to bed, after that
we kept going to bed and joined or shagged on a regular basis, just doing
what healthy red blooded youngsters do in bed. What started with a hurried
kiss and then a crafty wank turned into a full blown affair. He used to
come around and stay at my flat now and then as his family didn't seem to
see too much wrong in our relationship, the age differential wasn't all
that large. That was until his mother found the polaroids and a couple of
rather silly notes I'd written him and he, like a fool kept them. I expect
he had them tied up with a pink ribbon but I never did find out.

Any normal parent would have gone apeshit and sorted out the relationship
there and then but she, the cow, went around to the local police and that
was when the shit hit the fan. Although only seventeen at the time of the
so called offences and he was fifteen which isn't a huge age difference I
finished up in Court on a series of offences the main one being the old
charge of buggery followed by indecent this and indecent that. I never knew
a bit of loving could sound that horrendous. This case would never have
come to court nowadays but that was the seventies and the Establishment was
fighting a war against the promiscuous society as they saw it and the
rising tide of homosexuality... this was long before the age of consent
became sixteen by the way. I wasn't even too sure at the time if it was
eighteen or still twenty one, as they say, love is blind.

To my everlasting disgust my little lover (and he wasn't all that little)
claimed that I'd seduced him, threatened to tell his mum, yaddah, yaddah
and the Old Bill (our pet name for the filth) took it all in or perhaps it
suited them to. Basically, I got hung out to dry. Then one bright and sunny
morning I sat in the Old Bailey which by the way isn't reserved for mass
murderers and received two sentences of three years and one of nine. To say
I was in a state of shock as I went down the stone stairs was the
understatement of the year. It wasn't until a quite friendly warder told me
that the sentences were concurrent rather than consecutive and that the
three year sentences were only window dressing (some window). He told me
that I would serve three years at Her Majesty's pleasure provided I kept my
nose clean. Well, that was better and I suppose I was quite fatalistic
about it really, I just sat in the holding cell wishing I was fucking well
dead.

After the cases were finished the day's collection of new lads were
handcuffed and stuck in a bus of all things and taken to Wormwood Scrubs
which was the main allocation prison in West London. For the purists who
know all about hard times in London, second offenders went to HMP
Wandsworth which was over the river and a far harsher place. In fact, if
you came in from Wandsworth nick you were automatically graded as a 'hard
man' amongs the admiring throng. Is that sad or what?

I think there were about a dozen of us and we trooped through into the
Joining Section where we were reduced to third class citizens, we had our
fingerpints and photographs taken for the umpteenth time and got issued the
drab grey prison clothing and then into the horrors of the Induction Wing
as they charmingly called it and to make matters worse we were crammed four
to a cell. I was like a cat on a hot tin roof, buggery isn't the sort of
offence you want to talk about so if anyone asked what I was in for I
quoted pornography and that was my story for the next three years. After a
hot and sweaty night (with a couple of homesick weepies) we were trucked
around the wing where we were to find out where or what our final
destination would be. Thank Christ for that, the thought of three years in
a cell with three others beggared belief. I found out that I was destined
for C Wing which was the London area holding block and I stayed there for
nine months. Even C Wing 'lodgers' were accomodated two to a cell and Sod's
Law dictated that I was stuck in with a lovelorn lout who drooled over
pictures of his girlfriend all night long. It was a tribulation but I was a
cleaner and had stacks of time out of my cell so time passed. My parents
visited once a month and eventually forgave me for being gay... well
accepted is more the word I think.

My father was an odd one. Like in the American Oscar speeches, he was a
'rock', he had a totally different attitude to my mother. He couldn't
really see what all the fuss was about, to him seventeens fucked fifteens
and the sex was incidental. Strange man but he's gone now, bless his
understanding soul. My mother was more upset about me being caught than the
actual offence, apparently she'd told all the family friends I'd joined the
French Foreign Legion or something totally ludicrous.

Prison itself was the biggest eye opener in the world. Forget all you've
seen at the pictures, British prisons are nothing like the American
versions, even in the seventies they were what I'd call a doddle. Screws
are screws (and sometimes called warders), some good, some indifferent and
some little Hitlers. They were split between those who wanted to make you
better people and those who just wanted to play guards, no surprises
there. The prison population in C Wing at least was pretty much the
same. Those getting on with it and those who wanted to cause trouble and
I've got to say most of the latter were youngsters around my own age. I
just kept a low profile, I'd been allocated to D Wing which would be my
last stop. D Wing was the official long term block and any sentence of
three years or over was classed as long term. Being scheduled for D Wing
gained me a certain standing amongst the hoi poloi some of whom were only
doing twelve months and even less. I was one of the dreaded long termers,
rah, rah.

The great day dawned and at lunchtime I was ready for transfer, this was a
big deal insofar D Wing was treated very officially as the London Area Long
Term Prison, a sort of prison within a prison to flog the 'p' word to
death. Over I went and was allocated a cell (also known as a peter for some
unknown reason), this was up on Landing B which was the first floor as the
ground floor was called Landing A. I saw a few familiar faces as some of
the guys had preceded me from C Wing and I found out we were one to a cell
at long last, some privacy. I was intent on having a full blown totally
belly exposed wank around midnight and that was only for starters.

I soon settled in and was allocated work in the Tailor's Shop which was an
adventure all on it's own, sewing machines and I just don't get on too
well. However, I did meet my first prison shag there and that was Tony
Benton a rather skinny and totally weird character. He brushed up against
me in the course of a tea break and I popped one, I managed to hide it but
not from him and the next thing I knew he burst into my cell in a free
period and proceeded to rape me. Well, he stuck his mouth around my hardon
and then insisted that I shag him so I suppose it was a rape in a manner of
speaking. After that he wandered in and out when he got the urge and that
could be at any time. We had lots of association over in D Wing and by that
I mean the cells were open from around five in the evening until eight at
night and you could wander around and do what you liked. It was the same
over the weekend although they used to lock you away for meal breaks (don't
ask why).

D Wing was a curious place, some of the Great Train Robbers were in there
but they were the elite. There were also some other hardened criminals who
seemed to gravitate to Landing D which was up in the gods, I suppose they
used to do whatever people like that do well away from the antlike swarm
below. Of course, it's a lot easier to spy and keep an eye on everything
when you're on the top floor looking down than the other way around.

There were some attractive youngish men around as well but I wasn't about
to brandish my gay credentials around, I continued to keep myself to myself
and young Mr Benton looked after the entertainment factor for me. One would
think that mano-a-mano sex was difficult in prison but not so, we did it
behind the cell door, we did it under the bed, we even did it on the bed
when everyone was watching Top of the Pops. Tony loved being fucked and was
equiped with a huge dick himself, fortunately he used to wank like mad
whilst being fucked and that was it. I was quite happy with that, when he
was at full stretch the bloody thing must have come in around eight inches
and that is not Nifty exageration. I don't mind doing my bit when duty
calls but that thing between his leg was a joke and not the ha ha type.

One would think that being in a place like Wormwood Scubs was the pits, the
end of the world, even 'abandon all hope, ye who enter here' sort of thing
but life goes on and you have to make the best out of a bad deal
sometimes. The routine in D Wing was routine, deadly boring and regimented
but once you had your job, your little circle of firends and even a bit of
a sex life things began to look up. There was even dope available,
cannabis, the soft stuff and my friends and I used to get hold of some of
that for a Saturday afternoon session. It never bothered me and I've never
used it since, I must be immune. I even began to look forward to being
banged up (locked up) some evenings so that I could get stuck into a book
and have a bit of peace and quiet... weird or what but then again I've
always been a bit of a loner.

We had stacks of hobby materials to keep us happy and I took up writing and
what would I write except filth. Of course most of my friends were either
gay or free thinkers and I used to pass my handwritten little brown books
around. I wrote both gay and straight at that time which just goes to show
the power of the mind, I'd like to think I provided some wanking material
at least as fanny mags weren't allowed. I got some fun out of it anyway,
one of the gifts of having a sick mind I suppose. Benton was OK but I had
other lusts if not partners, there were at least three I used to fixate on,
on a regular basis but D Wing wasn't the place it was wise to make waves
and chatting up a young man who could be inside for anything from murder to
rape wasn't the wisest move in the world.

By the way, it's a misconception to think that high risk prisoners are
actually high risk to their fellow inmates. Most are serving their time and
want to get to their earliest release date without too many lumps along the
way. We even had a guy who had raped his young daughter on the ground floor
very next to the control box I might add and he seemed to survive without
any problems. Mainly nonces as they call them, the child abusers or even
the child killers like Brady were kept in strict segregation and never came
into contact with the more mundane prisoners. The old police hassle
regarding how people 'like me' got treated in prison was nonsense although
I wouldn't have been too confident if my lover (or victim) had been nine or
ten instead of fifteen. Most of the prisoners in there were working class
to be snobbish and most knew perfectly well what a Rent Boy was and what
'flogging your arse' meant. Homosexuality was condoned in prison if not
approved of, it was a classic example of live and let live and as far as I
was concerned that suited me fine.

Anyway, finally to the lust of my life. I used to spend quite a bit of time
in the evening hanging around for the occasional Benton visit and looking
over the landing railings. It was another hobby, you'd always see half a
dozen inmates draped over the railings noseying about as they called
it. There was this kid on the As, the ground floor who I used to perv, he
started off originally with shoulder length hair and I found him very
attractive so I ogled. He must have noticed but never gave any
indication. I even spoke to him on a couple of occasions like in the
canteen queue and in passing, hello, grunt, grunt sort of thing. He
eventually had a haircut which must have been done by a blind man and I
fell in love, it took years off him and he looked no more than a sixteen
years old. I must admit I've always had a hankering for the scruffy youth
types and he fitted the bill. I found out through subtle questioning that
his name was Chris Durnsford which was very easy to remember as Durnsford
Road was the road that ran down by the old Wimbledon Football Club's
ground... just around the corner from where I used to live.

Chris worked with Works Department, the plumbers, decorators and whatnot
who were all prison officers but had inmates as helpers, sort of semi
trusties, anyway, Chris was one of these.  The one worry was that he had
two quite big pals, they were like the Three Musketeers but not all the
time. They were also around the eighteen to twenty mark and I wondered lots
of things, were they from the same gang, had they come up from Young
Offenders together, what was their connection to one another?

That year there was a lot going on in the wing, they were modernising after
a fashion. The barren cells were being fitted with a small enclosed toilet
which may not seem much in this day and age but was a giant step
forward. then. The Prisons Inspectorate had done The Scubs and dound it
sadly lacking.  The problem was that the place was topped up and for the
one week it took to do the job and do other small jobs cell by cell people
were being forced to share. This wasn't going down very well at all and
volunteers were being requested in the first instant, it's a fact of life
that some people get on OK with others but some time servers like their
solitude, at the time I wasn't volunteering for anything.

The night of the big breakthrough was like any other. We had a set of
showers down on the As and I used to occasionally perv who went in and out,
I also used them which was a bit brave of me but I had confidence in the
old live and let live routine. I felt safe enough although some of my more
nervous Nellie mates wouldn't go within a hundred yards of the place on
their own.

I think it was midweek and there was something good on the television so
most of the lads were racked up watching whatever it was. I was also
watching it on and off from my vantage point up on Landing B also keeping a
casual eye on the showers. I saw Chris go in with his towel around his
waist as his cell was quite close to the centre of the Block. It was a will
I, won't I caper and in the end I plucked up my courage and grabbed my
towel and soap. With a bit of luck I'd get to see the tasty Chris in the
nude and that would keep me in wanks for a month or so. My dick was leading
the way so to speak and there were enough screws (wardens) around in case I
ran into trouble. I was bored, that was my excuse and the thought of
oggling my idol in the buff was too much. I also think I'd decided that his
two pals weren't lovers just associates or friends and God knows where I'd
got that from, probably all in my sex starved mind.

I galloped down the staircase and skirting the building materials entered
the shower area and apart from a couple of screws giving me didinterested
looks that was about it. The fun was about to begin... big time. I know
that it was only about twenty or so minutes before the bell went to clear
everyone away but I hadn't expected Chris to be so quick. As I walked in he
was in the small passageway totally naked and beaded with water towelling
himself off. I barely had a chance to take in his deliciously slender and
water sheened body before I dropped my soap and it shot across the tiled
floor skidding between his legs.

He looked up in suprise and dropped his towel the same time I shot forward
to grab my soap and our heads met with an audible clunk. Talk about seeing
stars, I didn't know if I was on my arse or my tit, I felt wobbly, I must
have been blushing like a tomato and as Chris span around I got a glorious
closeup of his soft penis, in fact, it nearly smacked me in the face.

'Tasty,' I muttered before I could stop myself.

'Fuckin' lunatic,' he snarled and grabbing his towel around his hips did a
swift runner. I was alone in the showers, I had a lump on my forehead like
and egg and I was so embarassed I could have slithered down a drain with
shame. I picked up my soap and got into a shower jetting myself with
scalding water just to make the night complete.

Once we were locked in for the night I spent the rest of the evening
thinking about all the smart moves I could have done, well, in cases like
this you always do. At the very least I could have said sorry but 'tasty',
God knows what he was going to make of that even if he heard it. All the
same, he was nice. He was nice clothed, he was even nicer naked and his
sweet little cock... yumsville. I say little as he was fresh from the
ashower but it was a nice softy of around three or four inches and I was
sure it would expand given some tender loving and affection. His dark red
glans was even peeping from it's hoody, the damn thing was photographically
engraved on my mind. I could feel it, I could taste it. I could even feel
it hardening in my mouth for God's sake... I needed a lobotomy or
something. Anyway, I thought as I clambered into my bed, that was the
romance to end them all well and truly out of the window. He'd probably set
his big mates on me tomorrow. Gawd, he was so cuddly, Benton was just white
trash compared to Chris.

I had the wank of the century over night, I remember it as one of my best
ever, I was denched in my own cum and as I licked some up and tasted it I
imagined it was sweet Chris' juice, I was getting sadder by the damn hour.

The next morning was Friday and it was pretty much the same as the previous
Friday and all the Fridays for the last two years or so, the one difference
being that this was going to be extra low profile day. I didn't know who
Chris was mates with apart from his two big pals, I didn't know what
contacts he had in the block and to be blunt I was scared shitless, he may
have even seen my clumsy slip and slide as an assault. Anyway, the morning
went well and lunchtime I got my food and scurried to my cell and sat to
eat. We had around half an hour before lockup and rather a long lunch
break, we were then unlocked and went back to work.

'Hi, Mick.' I froze with my fork halfway to my mouth. I recognised the
voice behind me immediately, it was Chris.

'Bloody sorry about last night,' I turned on my seat to face him. 'The soap
got away,' I said lamely.

'No matter,' he grinned and I felt my spirits lift. 'Mind if I come up
around half five for a chat?'

'No.'

'I'll bring a couple of teas,' he smiled again and turned to
leave. 'Tasty,' he chuckled as he walked away.

A few minutes later I was locked up and settled back down to dinner, my
mind was in a turmoil. What the hell did he want, he was coming in peace I
would imagine with two mugs of tea and what was the 'tasty' remark about as
he left. I really thought he hadn't picked up on it and he obviously
had. Was I in trouble or wasn't I? I dismissed the affair from my mind. One
thing your learn in prison that when shit happens there is very little you
can do to infuence events, just take things as they happen. He might come
up with his two heavies or he may come along, I'd soon find out.

The one good thing about Friday evening was that I knew perfectly well
Benton had a regular assignation with some old timer up on Landing C so
that was him out of the way, not that he'd be much use in any sort of
fracas.

We finished work and collected our teas which were a misnomer, the meal was
a sort of high tea, loads of bread and usually some salad or something
fried and I use the word 'something' out of choice, prison fryups were
eternal mysteries, to come back to the present, The Da Vinci Code has got
bugger all on a prison fryup. We were normally left unlocked after tea and
went straight onto free association which was prison speak for do your own
thing. Telvsion, group natters, evening classes, we were spoilt for choice.

I was sitting there all tensed up and a bag of nerves when the door opened
fully and Chris backed in with two mugs of tea and I was delighted to see
that he was on his own. I noticed that he left the door wide open so that
no one would be tempted to think we were upto anything untoward.

'Got any sugar?'

'Yeah,' I grabbed the bag an plastic spoon.

'Good man,' he grinned cheerfully but I sensed a certain nervousness,
perhaps he wasn't as self confident as he appeard to be.

He sat on my bed alongside me which was pretty standard practice with
visitors and stirred his tea handing the spoon to me.

'Where's your two mates?' I asked more for something to say than anything
else.

'Evening classes,' he stared at the wall opposite. 'They're not actually
mates, it's a bit of a funny story...'

'Go on.'

'We were at school together and then four years later we all meet up in
here. They tend to feel sorta brotherly seeing I'm the smallest.'

'I thought you might be in the same gang,' I rather tactlessly
offered. Getting into crimes or pumping anyone was certainly not good
manners in D Wing.

'Nah,' he dismissed the subject swiftly and moved on. 'What did you mean
when you said tasty last night?' There it was. The question in all it's
simplicitym no getting around this one but I did think about it.

I dunno.' I wittered and then I took my life in my hands and don't forget I
had exactly no idea where Chris was coming from as they say
nowadays. 'Sorta thing you say when you see something you like.'

That brought a deathly hush.

'And you like me?'

'Yeah.' My voice was nearly a whisper.

'A bit more than that I reckon,' he too spoke very quietly. 'I think you
fancy me.'

It's at times like that sitting in a shitty cell with a young criminal
surrouded by another couple of hundred villains you tend to get tongue
tied. If I denied any sort of feeling that would be the end of it for
evermore, I'd never see him in my cell again, we'd probably never ever
speak again. He'd said all he was going to, it was upto me now.

'Perhaps I do.'

'Yeah, you do.  I have noticed you eyeballing me over the railings, ' he
gazed at me with his grey eyes and the slightest of smiles tugged at the
corner of his mouth and I knew I was safe.

'Yeah, I do,' I grinned.

'Thak fuck that's out of the way,' he laughed and I joined in. 'I knew that
you've been ogling me for a while but I wasn't too sure,' he spoke after a
while. 'You have that Benton slapper in and out so I knew you were a
shagging man.'

'Spying on the spyer?'

'Does to keep on top in a place like this,' he remarked.

'Can't be on top all the time,' I went totally mad and gave his knee a
little squeeze.

'Swings and roundabouts,' he laughed.

'As you say,' I replied wondering where we went from here but I was about
to find out. Serendipity rules or maybe even losers have to get lucky
sometimes.

'Have you read the screed on the notice boards about the cell
refurbishments?'

'Skimmed through it.'

'Have you read the latest one,' he glanced at me. The voluntary aspect is
going out of it. They're beginning to take blocks of guys and making them
double up. The Works Department are the first on the list, maybe another
five in a week or so.'

'You're Works Department.'

'I know,' he laughed.' I volunteered for you and me to double up for a
month this morning.'

'You what,' I almost yelled.

'I thought you'd be pleased,' he moved away from me in shock and I thought
he was going to burst into tears.

'I am, I am.' Without thinking about it I sprang over and closed the door
to and grabbed him and planted a kiss on his warm lips. His eyes widened in
shock and then he smiled and his lips and mouth returned the kiss eagerly
and willingly. When it was open we fell back into our seats on the bed and
gazed at each other red faced and embarassed. 'I'd better open the door a
bit,' I went to stand.

'Leave it,' he ordered in a husky voice. 'I should have grabbed you last
night in the showers.'

'You should have,' I agreed. 'What are the other guys saying about this
forced pairing up?'

'Some are moaning but the smart ones are selecting their partners right
now. You're better off being banged up with someone you can get on with
than a complete stranger.'

'You reckon we can get on then?'

'Especially once the lights go off,' he grinned. 'Moves happening Monday
morning by the way.'

'Monday night should be fun.'

'I hope so,' he cackled and reaching out squeezed my groin capturing my
rock hard erection first time. 'Yeah, we'll do alright,' he looked at me
and opened his legs. I reached out for a feel, I didn't need a script. It
was a cracker, nicely hard and even gave a little twitch as I fondled
it. This kid, who happened to be older than I was as I found out later, was
most certainly up for an adventure. I didn't ask for references, I didn't
ask who or what he'd been involved in over the last couple of years. I
didn't care, I had him now and it looked like we would have each other for
a month.

It was a bit later in the evening when one of the screws came around, he
was a regular guy and was holding a clipboard in his hand.

'Thomas... just a quicky.'

'Yep.' We were supposed to call them sir but we never did.

'Just checking that you're happy with this cell sharing with Durnsford?'

'Yeah, no probs.'

'Excellent,' he actually smiled but as I said, he was one of the regular
guys. 'Be ready to move tomorrow morning around ten o'clock. You'll be
going into one of the refurbished cells... A17.'

'H'OK, Boss.' So much for it all happening Monday, things were happening a
bit earlier than that.

'Good lad.' That was it, away he went. I stretched myself and thought about
it. A17 was more or less directly below me and I'd heard the builders in
there during the week. I suppose you had to clean the toilet
yourself. Stupid things you think about when you're stressed, I should be
thinking of the best and safest way to have full blown sex with my new pal
Chris not about bog cleaning. Still, the one consolation was that I didn't
have too much to move, I just hoped Chris wasn't one of these that had
photos and junk all over the place as some had, I tended to be a bit on the
Spartan side, clutter wasn't my scene. I also wondered if he had a record
player or radio both of which were legitimate at that time, we hadn't
worked around to in cell electricity so everything had to be battery
powered which we could buy with our meagre earnings or from incoming
money. About the only thing you couldn't buy with outside money was tobacco
and if you wanted the other kind of puff you needed to make special
arrangements.

Well. we had about an hour of free association left and I did my regular
evening promenade. I wandered down to a pal's cell, another gay and told
him that I was moving cell without making too much of it, I ponced a tea
from him and wandered down to my usual noseying station outside my own cell
and proceded to perv. Spot on seven thirty Chris appeared at his door and
this time glanced up and I swore I saw him wink, a second later he was on
his way to the showers.

This time I was a bit quicker, stipped and towelled up I was down that iron
staircase in a flash. I couldn't imagine a lot would happen but at least
I'd get to oggle his nude and soapy body, enough for a night's good
wanking.

I walked into the place making as much noise as possible, that was
traditional by the way and if you can't work out why then you haven't
really been getting into the spirit of the place.

For a place that was supposed to be maximum security the shower was a
letdown, there were two stalls that were fully visible from the door then
another four that weren't and there was the sound of running water coming
from one of these. I wasn't really concerned about anyone wandering in as
funnily enough Chris was the only one who seemed to use the place at that
time of night... and now there was me. I removed my towel and walked around
the corner and there was Chris doing his vision bit. Running water, soapy
water, slick body, the works.

'Tasty,' I muttered as I occupied the stall facing him and began to
luxuriate in the warm water.

'Ain't to bad yourself.' he grinned. 'Did Randall see you?'

'Yeah. All systems go for ten tomorrow.'

'Good film on tomorrow afternoon. Wanna go?'

'Yah, why not,' I laughed. 'I like my films.' We got to see one old film
once a week although our Block's allocated time was Saturday afternoon
which made it a bit of a non event with most of the inmates glued to the TV
and Saturday sports.

'I had a look at the peter, it's all finished and the loo works OK.' Joy,
we didn't have to piss in a pot anymore.

'We don't need to use it for crapping too much, the place'll stink.'

'True,' he laughed.

As far as romantic conversations go it left a lot to be desired but I was
happy especially when he turned around and gave me a full session of soapy
bottom even sensually rubbing his foan covered hands between his tight
cheeks. He laughed when he turned around and saw me.

'What's up?'

'Gonna call you Stalky Man,' he giggled but I did notice that his sweet
cock was filling out and he was up for it.

'Ten minutes,' one of the screws bellowed in the door.

'Shit,' I grasped my erection in a firm fist and slowly wanked it before
turning the water down to cool rather than hot. 'All yours, baby.'

'Gawd,' he moaned as his own reached it's full stretch. 'I'm gonna wank all
night,' he muttered red faced and turned away to rinse off.

I moved across the small tiled floor area and grabbed his hips and planted
a sloppy kiss on his neck quickly prodding between his slippery cheeks with
my hardness. 'Sleep tight, I'll be dreaming of you.' I stepped back and
grabbed my towel and fled before things got out of hand. I'd got this far
and it would be criminal to go and fuck up now. I had a boyfriend and a
double cell for a month or so, chances like that are once in a blue moon
scenarios in a place like Wormwood Scrubs.

I knew in spite of all the so called security and vigilance by the staff
that a lot of blind eyes were turned and that a lot of romancing and sex
happened. But apart from the sex mad Benton this was my first opportunity
and most likely my last. Caution and super caution were the watchwords. I
had found out sometime in the past that if you were caught in the act as it
were you finished up in solitary, after that the partnership was split and
you could finish up anywhere. I didn't finish up going back to C Block this
close to my release. I know I had eight months to go but I was happy or
reasonably so in D Block and I'd made a fair number of pals. It would do,
well, it would have to do, it wasn't as if I had much choice.

The next morning I was up like a lark on one of the new drugs that had just
started to circulate. I was buzzing. A change of cell was an event by
itself sad as it sounds and being on the As would save all that trudging up
and down those bloody stairs. The thought just crossed my mind writing
this; I wonder if anyone ever had a heart attack climbing upto the Ds, it
was a hell of a way up in the air. Forget any impressions you may have from
'Porridge' about small cell blocks, these blocks were absolutely
huge. Anyway, I digress.

Promptly at ten I was at the new or refurbished cell, I think Chris and I
standing there must have amused the friendly screw, we must have looked
like a pair of honeymooners on reflection, even Chris' normally surly face
wore a smile. 'Sorry I can't give you the keys,' the officer who clearly
had a bent sense of humour smiled. 'But it's all yours, move in when you
like. Of course we did an inspection and it was going to be cramped. I fair
chunk had been taken off the end for a toilet and partition, it lost you
around a yard off the cell's length I estimated. The bed was no problem,
they'd just put one bunk on top of the other as in C Wing. The only other
difference that I could spot was that the ceiling light now had in inside
switch that had never been fitted in the old cells.

'What bunk do you want?' I asked Chris.

'Top?'

'Fine.' That was it, that was the only thing to negotiate. Oh, yeah, the
other thing that had put in an appearance was a triangular cupboard in the
corner of the cell where the pointy table and steel chamber pot used to
live. No big deal there but it did mean that the infamous slopping out was
a thing of the past. No more stinky pots in the cell overnight and all I
needed to get used to was living or sharing with another after quite some
time solo. Could shaggers or lovers become friends? I don't know, we both
had our own circle of friends already and time would tell. No advertising,
no silly slips, they were the Golden Rules we needed to observe. People
could think what they liked but they wouldn't know for sure unless either
of us spilled the beans.

By lunchtime we were settled in and after lunch it was film time. We didn't
get on like a house on fire mind you, Chris was quite a morose person, even
when his two big mates rolled up he did a very offhand introduction and I
probably chatted more to the one called Paul more than Chris. In the end we
all trooped off to the pictures and sat right at the back, I was beginning
to feel quite laddish with this lot of meat around me. Even Benton gave me
a funny look in passing but he was another one that would have to go on
hold for the duration. The place we used for a cinema was also used as a
makeshift gym so it wasn't actually darkened out just shaded. The film was
one of those awful Carry On things and everyone just took the mickey and
chatted through it, I was delighted when it was finished. I was just
counting down the hours and minutes until the eight o'clock bang up and the
end of the communal day, after that it was just Chris and myself in our
bridal suite.

I thought Paul took took to me, he seemed to make a point of dragging me
into their conversation not that Chris had a lot to say. The other 'biggy',
Peter was less forthcoming but towards the end of the afternoon he was
including me in the chat, the odd one out was Chris which was weird. We had
our tea, supper, call it what you will in our cell and Chris seemed to
brighten up a little.

'You seemed a bit down at the film,' I remarked being rather careful what I
said.

'Well, it's Peter and Paul.'

'The two apostles.'

'Yeah, right,' he laughed at last. 'They're probably having evil thoughts
right now.'

'Why should they?'

'Come on,' he snapped. 'I volunteer to share a cell with someone who isn't
in our little circle. What the hell do you think they're thinking.' He
looked at me over his meal. 'They have clocked you draped over that balcony
spying you know.'

'Everyone does it.'

'I know but you were always ogling me and they knew that.'

'So... what's your point.'

'My point is, Slutface. They probably think I volunteered to shack up with
you for the sex... the love that dare not speak it's name and all that
crap.'

'Well...' I sat back and looked at him. 'You have the two options. You've
either put it across that I do a great blow job or... you've got to play it
cool and deny anything and everything. Your choice.'

'Mmmmm...' He suddenly laughed. 'We'll let it run as it is, you can always
give Paul a treat, you seemed to be getting on OK.'

'You seemed to be getting on Ok with Peter,' I countered.

'Always had a bit of a thing on him,' he grinned. 'Anyway, what we doing
tonight?'

'Staying in I think.'

'Yeah, who wants to walk down the pub on a night like this.'

'I was beginning to think you'd gone off me, having second thoughts sort of
thing.'

'Nah,' he laughed and dove back into his food. 'I'll still shag you
tonight.'

'Goes both ways, pal,' I gave him a mock snarl.

'Hope so,' he gave a surprisingly boyish giggle. 'Banking on it, in fact.'

Well, that was that. All back on track and the afternoon's little moody a
thing of the past. I could see his point, he had his two big tough mates
and as he was being protected by them he was also a bit concerned of what
they might think of him.  You can hardly act like the thugs from hell one
minute and then casually jump inside a fellow inmates knickers the
next. Mind you, the Krays set a good precedent. Well, the dust would settle
eventually I was sure and it wouldn't surprise me if Paul didn't make some
sort of approach in the near future. I didn't know about the other, Peter
but time would tell. it could be the beginning of another little 'sex club'
of which I was convinced there were a couple around being kept well under
wraps.

It was a point that when you were landing lurking you always noticed the
odd cell which you knew was occupied by two guys and there was a third
draped over the railings outside. Anti social or guard dogging, who knew
but one could hazard a guess. The situation may have had nothing to do with
sex, they may have been dealing dope or tobacco trading but I had a dirty
mind and always assumed the worst (or the best). The more the merrier as
far as I was concerned. People who live in glass houses aren't supposed to
throw stones.

The evening rolled on and Peter and Paul (right pair of Christian's these
two) rolled up and spent half an hour or so and they had a brew up of foul
tea, I rather gathered that this was a ritual of some sort and set out to
blend in. A couple of my pals popped by to survey the scene but didn't
linger when they saw the company I had, even the dreaded Benton showed his
face and was quite chatty with Chris... I would be asking some questions on
that front a bit later. But at long last eight o'clcock came and we went
through the evening routine of lockdown. This went on for a long time on a
weekday but on a Saturday it seemed to go on forever.

I was always surprised that the screws took it so well, there were bodies
all over the place and it turned into some sort of cat and mouse
game... 'find that prisoner' sort of thing, a bit like the English Sheepdog
Trials on the box.

Last shouts, last bit of number calling by the screws and once they were
happy that everyone was where they should be that was the end of it. The
grand finally came when the night staff came on just after eight and
counted us all again only this time through the peephole. We'd both been in
there long enough to know that the night staff wore slippers and cruised
around in reasonable silence but no way could they get rid of the sound of
that bloody great bunch of keys and that enormous chain. When it was really
quiet you could hear them coming by the sound of the snick of the peephole
cover, anyway, after a bit of time you knew their schedule.

The did a lights out run around ten thirty and then a final one at
eleven... with the new cell's coming into being the lighting would become
the inmates concern, you could have the thing on or off I don't think the
screws would mind either way. To the best of my knowledge they didn't do
another check until around five in the morning when they roused out the
kitchen hands and that was it. They opened up at seven and then the whole
dreary routine started again.

'Do you think they'll give us an extra check being doubled up?' I looked at
Chris as he flopped on my lower bunk making himself at home.

'Nah, it's Burton. He'll be in the control box with the others watching
their little tele.'

'Burton, the one with the big hooter and bald head?'

'That's him,' Chris grinned. 'He's kosher, not a bad guy.'

'Good,' I looked at him and smiled. 'I didn't know you knew young Mr
Benton.'

'Everyone knows young Mr Benton. I've the funny feeling that Peter and Paul
might have shared him at one time.'

'Really,' I was astonished. 'Didn't they say anything?'

'Don't be a prat,' he laughed. 'They wouldn't would they. Same as I
wouldn't say anything about what we get upto.'

'Good,' I stretched out on the bed head to toes making sure he could see my
semi stiffy outline in my blue denims.

'Yummy,' he smirked. 'Pity you've got to wait another three hours,' he
grinned and buried his head in a cowboy book. So much for love.

An hour later I put my Den Koontz down, he was a bloody good author and I
would normaly been stuck in one of his plots to the exclusion to the world
around me but Chris' leg pressing against mine ruled that out. My mind
wandered looking at what i could see of his face past his own
paperback. Line of sight, ostrich with it's head in the sand... anyone
looking through the peephole couldn't actually see onto the bottom bunk,
the could see everything in the cell other than where we were laying. The
reason was quite simple, our damp towels were hung over the bed's end, the
metalwork was festooned with damp towels masking the actual bed and quite
obviousy who was on it.

A full scale naked sex scene wasn't very realistic but something a little
less adventurous could be achieved. I moved up on the bed and Chris glanced
at me, smiled and returned to his book.

He nearly took off like a nervous or over timid animal as my hand ran up
his denim clad leg and fondled his groin.

'Jeez, Mick,' his head shot around to the door and naturally enough all he
could see was towel. I could hear the gears and cogs rattling in his
brainbox as he slolwy relaxed. 'Sex maniac,' he muttered fondly as my hand
rubbed his lump and I felt the fleshy snake within start to solidify. He
moved down the bed a bit closer to me and allowing me better access.

'Fancy a matine,' I smirked and outlined his hardness in his blue denims
with my hand, smoothing the material and feeling the warmth seeping through
the cloth.

'Keep this up and I'll cum in my knickers,' he whispered.

'Can't have that,' I shuffled up and started to undo the waistband and the
fly buttons.

'Aaah,' he groaned and pushed up into my hand and shuuffled down a little
more so that he was comfortably in the cente of the bed, from a casual peep
we could even be playing cards or having a natter. Of course it was
Saturday night and we knew perfectly well we had decent (or lazy) screws on
and they were in the Main Control watching their portable television.

'Nice,' I delved into his trousers and felt the warmth and hardness
shrouded by his prison briefs. Hot, hard and inviting. He made gentle
mewing sounds as I softly squeezed it and traced it's outline as it
achieved it's full stretch laying up his body pointing to his hip.

He wasn't a big boy physically, in fact, technically he was a man not a boy
but he was shorter than I was and all the more cuddly because of that. His
erection didn't measure upto the so called 'national average' but it was a
healthy growth of around five and a bit inches (that's an estimate not a
precise measurement for the purists). It was big enough and from the damp
spot by his waistband juicy enough.

'No, no,' he tried to push me away but I was lost, I hooked my finger in
his elastic waitband and pulled it out, his gleaming cockhead slid free
right into my mouth. 'Aaaaah...' Chris moaned and thrust up into my mouth,
he'd given up the struggle. I could taste his slippery cum and took more
and more of his fleshy hardness into my mouth as I pulled down the front of
his briefs, firstly his small pubic bush came into sight and then I cleared
his heavy scrotum so it had space to breathe. He ruffled my hair and slowly
pumped into my wet and salivating mouth.

'Hope the screw doesn't decide to do a spot check,' he smiled down at me
nervously as I looked up at him slowly and sensually slipping my lips up
and down his hot flesh. I could see his blue veins outlined quite clearly
and his twitching penis seemed about to burst from it's skin. His foreskin
had now totally disappeared and his blood engorged glans was weeping into
my mouth. I swallowed and slurped tasting his sweet essence. 'I can't hold
it,' he croaked and started to move my head up and down on his slippery
pole. I just slipped my hands inside his trousers and under his warm body
clasping his soft yet muscular bottom. Jeez, he had the arse of a sixteen
year old kid not a twenty year old man. I took one firm cheek in each hand
and took his slippery flesh in as far as I could, I could taste and feel
his swollen glans in the back of my throat when he came.

I nearly drown in cum. His thick white juices slipped and splattered into
the back of my throat and I felt his spunk sodden knob glide right into my
gullet spewing a massive cum which had me choking and spluttering as I
swallowed and gulped, I had to draw clear before I drown in his cum.

'Jeez,' I held his swollen manmeat as it gave another two long squirts up
over my eyes and lips and then two lesser spurts onto his navel and brown
haired pubics. As he tried to fend me off and lay in peace I lapped the
puddle from his belly button and licked his curly hairs clean. Satisfied at
last I sat back and allowed him to replace his limpo back into his clothing
and get himself sorted out.

'You drained me,' he grinned cheerfully and threw his cowboy book across
the cell. 'For that you get to go first tonight,' his eyes dropped.

'First what?' I asked stupidly.

'Don't be a dummy,' he reddened. 'You get what you want... first. Then me.'

That was it, all cut and dried, all we had to do was survive another hour
until the lights finally got turned off. Of course under the new setup we
could have turned our own lights off but that wouldn't stop the eleven
o'clock check. It would be better if we were in bed by then pretending to
be trying to sleep.

That's exactly what we did, we were laying in our beds, he up in the air
and me down below when the final check of the night arrived. After that we
heard the footfalls of the screws and the distinctive clicks of the
peephole covers as each inmate was checked. After that the less than quite
voices calling out the landing numbers to control and that was the end of
another day. If you listened closely at the door you could hear the screws
sorting out tea and congregating at the main Control Box in the centre of
the Wing and the muted sound of their televison.

I lay in the near dark and gently moved in the bed, thank Christ it was a
non squeaker otherwise we'd be doing what we planned on doing on the floor.

I heard him move and then his legs came over the edge of the bed followed
by his naked body and he was in on top of me. 'Hi, lover boy,' I saw his
teeth flash in a grin and his lips were on me. I clasped his warm boyish
body and we rolled around until we were spooned up on our sides and my
hardness was between his legs with my belly nestling against his soft
bottom. 'Hope you've got stacks of spit,' he said nervously.

'Gallons,' I nibbled at his ear and dry humped between his tightly clamped
legs.

Last check on the silence factor outside and it was as quiet as a grave. I
started to kiss down his smooth back and as he wriggled himself into more
comfort I started to kiss his smooth tighly clenched cheeks first one and
then the other. Finally, the ultimate. Spreading his tight little arse I
lapped and salivated between his cheeks delving into his crack finally
locating his pucker with my tongue. As he squirmed and wriggled I lapped
and sucked at his pulsating ring until it was slippery and sodden.

'Go on, hurry,' he gasped pushing his middle towards me. I rubbed my
hardness between his slippery mounds and pushed. 'Jeez,' he flinched and
groaning clutched the bedding as I achieved entry and started to move in
and out relaxing and opening him up. 'Yeah... go on,' he urged pushing back
and absorbing more of my raging hardon. That was all the encouragement I
needed. Holding his hips I started to move in and out of his delicious
tightness forcing my way into his silken skinned passage until he gave a
final moan and relaxed totally allowing me to glide into my root. 'We got
there,' he muttered and then gave a short laugh. 'Excellent,' he wriggled
on my fleshy spike and his sweet bottom slowly pushed back onto my
movements.

We moved around on the bed until we were both laying full length with me
doing him in the traditional way, my belly nestling in the small of his
back and my hips moving up and down shafting him deep and hard. He was a
beautiful fuck to be perfectly honest and just as crude, he was tight and
he flexed his bottom as I slid in and relaxed as I slid out. I gloried in
his heat and his tightness and I could have served the rest of my sentence
inside his sweet little thuggish body. Well, thuggish isn't the right word
but you know what I mean, he was barely more than a street kid and he knew
a bloody site more about life 'inside' than I did. I ploughed his sweet
arse slowly and with feeling until he began to push onto me really hard
demanding more without any words being spoken.  Once we'd got into our
stride and determined that the bunkbed was a non creaker we went to town. I
don't know if it was the nervous suspense or what but I was so hard it was
aching and when I came it was a super cum. I felt myself drain into him in
long, hot squirts and spurts and finally subsided onto his sweat soaked
back glued together in sexual effort and lust.

'Gawd, that was something else,' he gasped as I gently withdrew from his
tenderised and flooded hole. 'I am such a mess.'

'Lovely mess,' I kissed him and he returned it with passion.

'Better get back in my bed,' he cocked his head and we heard the soft
jingle of keys. 'Just made it.'  He hurriedly clambered back onto his bed
and we heard the soft footfalls of the duty screw but suprisingly they
passed us by.

Another hour went by and it must have been around two in the morning. I
couldn't sleep, I couldn't stop thinking about sex with Chris, how good and
surprisingly how sweet. I had to do it again and hopefully every night
until we returned to single cells. We'd have to be so careful but the sex
and the loving was worth the risk, there was little enough sex and a damn
sight less loving to be had at that stage of my life. I was just dozing off
finally when I felt movement, I felt my mattress go down at the edge and
knew it was his foot, he was getting from his bunk and coming down.

'You awake?' His breath was warm against the side of my face.

'Yeah,' I whispered.

I heard him laugh softly and then the touch of something on my face, a rub
and a smear. He was working his erection across my cheek as I lay there if
that wasn't a hint I didn't know what was. I reached out and grabbed it
bringing it to my lips and licked the swollen glans feeling the bland taste
of his precum. I tossed my bedding clear with one hand and with the other
virtually dragged him on on top of me as I spread myself out as much as I
could.

Was he man or mouse?

Man or man-boy obviously. He crouched on the low ceilinged bunk and managed
to get between my legs raising my knees to my chest, he clearly knew what
he wanted and although not what you'd call a natural bottom I was open to
offers. His slippery knob slipping up and down my crack was such an
offer. Pretty right for a prison, it was an offer I wasn't going to refuse.

He mashed his lips onto mine and pushed in slowly but firmly. I felt myself
open up, this was my first time bottoming for over a year so it was a bit
of an experience. His entry hurt a bit but I wasn't going to wimp out and
as he got himself comfortable he started to fuck. I rested my legs on his
smooth back and he rumped away kissing almost all the time. If he wasn't
kissing he was nuzzling at my sweaty neck and he dug away like a hampster
on steroids. He was good, I'll give him that. I even wondered if he'd had
the Benson experience but for now his hot cock slipping in and out of my
gut was enough.

'Micky, Micky... aaaah,' he rammed in tightly and stayed in and then it
came. I felt his hardness seem to swell and then the blessed pumping as he
offloaded what seemed to be a super cum. I felt the warm splashes inside me
and then the wetness at my pucker, he'd filled me. He lay on me as his
deflating penis softened and then slipped free. Onf final kiss on the nose
and he was back up into his bunk. 'That was a blinder,' he whispered over
the side of his bed.

'A soggy one,' I giggled stuffing a towel between my legs. 'Good job we've
got a toilet,' I slipped from my bed and voided the babies. The noise
didn't matter as he was busy up on his bunk having a case of hysterics.

Just before I got back into my bunk I stood my him in the dark my face just
about level with his on the top bunk. He turned to face me and I saw his
eyes gleam. 'That was fun,' he spoke softly and I saw the flash of his
teeth as he grinned.

'It'll be better tomorrow night,' I promised and kissed him goodnight. It
was over for the night and it had been good. The sort of kid (or man) I'd
like to do it with on a nice big bed in private. I'd have to check his
relase date and, of course, there were Peter and Paul to investigate. Time
would tell.


				  THE END


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'J.E.H.'    Nifty/Beginnings    25 July 2004

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