Jail Time


Story by  Nikki


Illustrations by

Michael Kirwan





























— originally published in Honcho Magazine - November, 1991 issue —

On nights like these, Michael felt like he was truly in heaven. Michael Thompson, twenty two years old and the cutest con in the joint, patiently waited for count to clear. It was Monday night, and although it was a typical evening in the penitentiary, Michael knew this night was different. Monday evening was totally reserved for Joe. Though Michael lent his services to a lot of the supposed straight men on the yard — and had enjoyed all of them at one time or another — Joe was his favorite.

Of course, having sex with another inmate was definitely against the rules. But Michael's attitude was that if he got caught, what are they gonna do? Throw 'im in jail? Michael had been gay for as long as he could remember, and after two and a half years in prison, he wasn't about to let a silly rule inhibit his sex life. Especially with nothing but strong, hard bodied studs around twenty four hours a day. Michael chuckled to himself as he continued getting ready for Joe's visit.

"Count clear," the guard announced over the P.A. system.

Michael was lying on top of his bunk when Joe showed his ruggedly handsome face in the door's small window. Using a master key he'd snitched from a guard, Joe opened the door and stepped inside.

"Looks a little dark in here — are you expecting someone?" Joe teased as he shut the door. Then he put up the window cover and wrapped his arms around Michael's slender waist.

As was his custom, Joe was wearing nothing but a T shirt, jeans, and shower thongs — enough to appear like he was dressed, but little enough to take off without too much trouble. Joe was thirty eight years old and had held a job as a construction worker. After working all day in the prison maintenance department, he put in a good workout at the weight room, keeping his body as hard as tempered steel. His eyes were the color of refined emeralds, but they burned with an impish glow.

Joe pushed down Michael's silk shorts, allowing his hands to glide down and cup the small, firm cheeks of Michael's ass. The feel of Joe's powerful arms and hands sent shivers of excitement ripping through Michael's body like lightning from a hot summer storm, Michael's cock began to throb as he pressed it against Joe's thigh and lifted Joe's T shirt over his head and off his muscular body. Then Michael ran his hands over the pelt of blond fur covering Joe's chest.

Joe pulled away and quickly removed his jeans. While his cock burst free from its confinement, Michael dropped to his knees. He began by slowly running his tongue over the beautifully shaped head. Although not a huge cock, it was slightly more than average in length and definitely thicker than most. He let his tongue tease the anxious crown, making it moist and ready, but not yet going down on it.

"Lie down on the bunk," Michael said in a sultry voice.

Joe stretched his tall muscular frame across the bed and spread his legs. Michael slid his smooth firm body between Joe's beefy thighs. Then his hands glided up through the thick hair on Joe's chest as he gently rolled the con's nipples between his fingers.

Michael had learned to stimulate Joe's erogenous zones to insure complete pleasure for both parties involved. At first, Joe showed no sensitivity in his nipples. But Michael had figured if he associated the tit stimulation with getting his prick sucked by a hot mouth, the feeling would become intensified. Sure enough, Michael's gamble paid off. And now Joe admitted he enjoyed having his nipples played with.

Slowly, Michael engulfed Joe's rod with his mouth, savoring the smell of his clean flesh. Michael took all of Joe's throbbing cock in his mouth and buried his nose deep in his pubic hairs. Joe thrust his pelvis upward, driving his rock hard shaft deep into Michael's eager mouth. He pounded frantically; his fingers dug deeply into Michael's shoulders. Then Michael let his left hand glide away from the erect nipple and gently slide down the length of Joe's firm body.

After his hand had moved further down Joe's stomach and came to rest on Joe's soft nut sac, Michael gripped the thrusting tube of steel and forced Joe to stop fucking his face. Joe relaxed and allowed Michael's talented mouth and tongue to do all the work. Sensuously, Michael ran his tongue over the sensitive flesh and probed the slit with his tongue, driving Joe crazy. Then Michael's hand loosened its grip and his stealthy fingers made their way to Joe's ass.

During the early days of their relationship, Joe had been defensive about anything getting too close to his asshole. He was a man, all man, and the way he saw it, real men didn't take anything up the ass. It was a common macho man belief in the penitentiary and it had taken Michael a long time to get Joe past that old fashioned concept of masculinity. But when he had finally lost his inhibitions, Joe had to admit that anal stimulation was extremely pleasurable.

While Joe enjoyed the thorough treatment his cock was receiving, Michael took that moment to insert his index finger into Joe's tight bunghole. Joe moaned as his fingers ran through Michael's long, soft hair.

The sound of keys startled both men. They froze. Michael's heart, already pounding from the sexual excitement, began to race furiously. The keys sounded very close!

"Oh, shit!" Michael cried, pulling his finger out of Joe's asshole. He searched frantically for his blue shorts. Joe jumped from the bed with lightning speed and started to pull on his jeans when all of a sudden the door flew open and filled the cell with light from the tier. Two officers came into the small cell.

"Busted!" Officer Smith exclaimed with an undertone of disgust. "Busted bigger than shit. Both of you buck ass naked and sporting hard ons!"

"What's wrong, Smith?" Michael asked sarcastically. "Are you jealous because nobody wants your pig in a blanket lookin' body?"

"That's enough, Thompson. You're invited to a come as you are party. Nothing but blue jeans. Get dressed," Officer Wesson ordered, glaring at the two men.

After putting on their jeans, Joe and Michael were escorted in handcuffs to Lt. Magnum's office. A report was made and both men were handed write ups.

"You're both going to the hole," Lt. Magnum said. "Because you were caught in the act, you'll both have to stay there pending the outcome of the Disciplinary Committee. Take them to the hole, Smith!"

Office Smith escorted both of them to the Punitive Segregation Unit, where he delivered them to the Unit Officer, Floyd Miller. "Got a couple of fags for ya'," Smith snarled.

Miller took the paperwork and told Smith he could leave When Smith left, Miller looked up at the two men and asked, "Okay, which one of you started all of this?"

"I did," Michael quickly answered.

Miller looked like your typical backwoods redneck that drove a pickup truck and listened to Country & Western music while getting drunk with the boys. Miller's body looked like it was in good shape though, except for the small beer belly that hung over his belt just a little. He was fairly tall with short blond hair, styled in a military fashion haircut. His eyes were a clear shade of ice blue that sent shivers of fear down Michael's spine. But he had to admit that, overall, the officer was a pretty good looking man.

"Okay. Sit over there," he said to Michael, pointing to a bench against the far wall. "I'll take your pal to a cell. Stay put and don't give me any shit, and I might let you have a blanket."

Michael was shivering from both the embarrassment of being caught and the cold, but he obeyed the officer's instructions and sat on the bench while Miller locked Joe in a cell. When Miller returned, he sat down at his desk and looked at the slender, boyishly handsome young man in silence for a minute. Then he asked, "You like suckin' dicks, huh?"

Michael sat there glaring at the prison guard, but said nothing. Just as Miller was about to ask again, Michael said, "I'm gay. And I'm very proud of what I am, but what I like to do in bed is none of your business."

"Now hold on, boy. This is prison, not boys' camp. I can make life difficult for you while you're here. On the other hand, I can make your time here in the hole real easy. The rule book says I can put trouble makers into strip cells. You a trouble maker, boy?"

"No, sir," Michael croaked, trembling with fear.

"You like suckin' dick? Or do you like to take it up the ass? Or do you like it both ways?"

Michael knew that Miller wasn't playing. If he didn't cooperate, he would find himself stripped naked and thrown into a special air conditioned cell where he would freeze his balls off. "I go both ways," Michael finally answered, decided that he would swallow his pride and cooperate with the guard.

"Hey, take it easy. I ain't gonna bite you. You like men, right? And I'm a man, and I'm not that ugly, am I?" Officer Miller asked in a kinder, more gentle voice. Michael looked at the officer and actually had to admit that he did have a nice body.

"I'll see to it that you get a T shirt and two blankets. You'll be cozy and comfy, kid. What do you think about that?"

Michael thought about it for a moment, then slowly nodded his head.

"Come with me, kid," the Unit Officer said, leading the prisoner in a different direction. Then Miller unlocked the door and showed Michael the room. "See, not just some mattress on the floor, but a real bed. Go ahead and take off your jeans and get comfortable," Miller said with a smug grin.

Michael took off his state issued jeans and sat on the bed while watching the officer slowly remove his clothing one article at a time. He took everything off in a meticulous fashion, being sure to fold each piece of clothing nice and neat, placing it all on a chair inside the small prison cell.

Wearing nothing but his socks, Officer Miller walked over to the bed and stood in front of Michael. Abruptly, he grabbed his own cock — semi-erect already from anticipation — and started stroking it. Before long, Michael took the hint and replaced the cock's hand with his own. Then the prisoner placed the officer's fiery dickhead between his lips and slowly swallowed several inches of copper-pole.

A soft moan escaped from the officer's throat as Michael slowly manipulated his shaft to a full erection. The next thing Michael did was to run his tongue down the underside of the guard's shaft. Then he carefully took one of the officer's nuts into his mouth.

Officer Miller ran his fingers through Michael's hair. "Oh, yeah. Ooh, that feels so good!" the guard said in a husky whisper. "Lie down on your stomach and spread them sexy legs of yours, boy. You ain't never been fucked 'til you been fucked by me," he boasted, stroking his fully hard prick.

Michael did as he was told, determined to get the ordeal over with as soon as possible. Spitting on his hand he ran it across his ass — just in case the guard failed to bother to grease him up. Then, all at once, Michael felt the weight of the guard land on top of him, then the frantic probing of the cop's cock trying to find Michael's asshole. To make things go smoothly, the prisoner lifted his hips and spread his ass cheeks to provide an easier target.

At first, the officer's rigid tool thrust in roughly. Michael knew that his boast had been an idle one. In fact, the guard had probably fucked very few assholes in his life. But Michael decided to grit his teeth and bear the rough fucking to the best of his ability.

Despite Officer Miller's lack of skill, Michael began to enjoy the man's warm body humping against his own, the officer's swollen dick now moving in and out of his hole with a steady rhythm. As he got into the swing of it, the prison guard slowed down and made his strokes longer and less jabbing. Then Michael discovered he was really getting turned on!

As his body began to move in sync with Officer Miller's increasing speed, Michael noticed that the guard was passionately massaging his shoulders, neck, and arms. Then, just when Michael was getting to the point of being swept up in the tide of hormonal ecstasy, he felt the guard's hands tighten around his arms. The deep-thrusting tool erupted in an orgasm, filling Michael’s ass with the officer's hot nut cream.

As soon as he had cum, the tired guard collapsed on top of Michael's sweaty body. It had taken less than five minutes for him to shoot his wad, so Michael was still fully erect and ready for more action. Without warning, Miller pulled out, causing Michael to wince in pain. The guard scrambled to his feet. "Turn over and sit up," he commanded.

Obediently, Michael rolled over and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. To his amazement, Officer Miller dropped to his knees in front of him, pushed Michael's knees wide apart with his hands, and lowered his head to Michael's crotch. Then Miller took the prisoner's throbbing tool into his mouth!

The guard's teeth scraped against Michael's rod as it plunged deeper into the moist wet interior of Miller's mouth. It was plain that the officer had had very little experience sucking dick. So Michael began thrusting his hips in time with the up-and-down motion of Miller's mouth. Then the prisoner closed his eyes and ran his hand over his own smooth, tight chest, playing with his own nipples and arousing other erogenous areas of his body.

When Michael finally shot his load, his body writhed with uncomfortable spasms. Now he leaned back on the bunk as his cock shot the last of his pent-up cum into Officer Miller's mouth. Surprisingly, Miller took it all. He even swallowed. But as his cock grew limp, the prisoner felt Miller's mouth hurriedly pull away.

Michael watched as the officer got dressed, obviously starting to worry about what would happen if the other inmates found out what had taken place. If that happened, he would be branded as an ass-kisser or — worse — ostracized from the general population which would mean only one thing: Protective Custody.

P.C., as it was referred to on the yard, was the worst place in the pen to do time. It was reserved for snitches, child molesters — all the worst pieces of shit of all time. And Michael knew without a doubt that he didn't want to do the rest of his time that way. "Uh, Officer Miller, I can be assured that this will stay between you and me, right?" Michael cautiously asked.

"Hey kid, what do you think? I got a wife and three kids. You think I want it going around that I had sex with another man? Much less an inmate of the State Penitentiary?" Officer Miller groused, buttoning his shirt.

Michael felt a flood of relief wash through his entire body as the cop tied his shoes and headed for the door. "That was real good, kid. Too bad the Disciplinary Committee don't meet until Friday morning, so you got three more nights in here. But I'll be back tomorrow night and the night after. Sleep tight!"

With that, he was gone, and the cell door snapped shut and locked.

Michael lay back on the bunk, staring at the ceiling. How fucking outrageous, he thought. It's against the rules to have sex in the clinker, but even the guards do it! "Fuck the rules," Michael said aloud. "What are they going to do? Throw me in jail?"


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They may not be: redistributed; sold; altered; enhanced; modified by artificial, digital or computer imaging;
used on another website or blog; posted to any internet or computer newsgroup, forum or media sharing site;
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