Date: Mon, 17 Sep 2007 19:23:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mike Torres <miketorrez@yahoo.com>
Subject: Are you Kidding me?  Chapter 1: Smells like teen Spirit.

All rights reserved. Please do not reproduce without written permission of
the author. Comments about this story are welcome and appreciated. Please
contact me at miketorrez@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between Males. The
content is homoerotic and for the entertainment of adults of legal age.
This is a work of fiction and all characters are fictional.


Chapter 1: Smells like Teen Spirit


As the guard lead me through the cell block, all faces turned my
direction. This must be what a hooker with huge tits feels like. Men were
leering at me, moaning like they just tasted something sweet. They were
giving me looks that said 'I'm gonna know you intimately'. Those looks made
me feel cheap, invaded, and already used. I kept my eyes on my feet, which
only increased the moaning and hissing. The door to my new home
opened. Sitting on the bottom bunk was a giant latino man. If I were gay I
would probably say he was gorgeous. My brain wouldn't let that register
though, it wasn't important. I got a little excited thinking this guy
surely must be straight, maybe I'll be safe. Right before that thought, my
brain did some calculations: He must be 6'5"... his shoulders and arms were
enormous, however, not the type from hard work but the sort you see on a
model, an underwear model. His waist must have been only 32" which seemed
even smaller when you compare his height and shoulder mass to it. He was
sitting there on the bunk, leaned up against the wall, legs spread out;
legs of a bicyclist. His boxers were loose, even so there was a hint of a
testicle hanging out the side. Christ they must be huge I thought as my
brain took in all these calculations in less than a second.

My brain wasn't too happy. The data it just received wasn't good. I am
5'10... which never seemed short, but then again I was never in a situation
where I had to confront a hulking 6'5"; I knew better. I put my clothes and
blanket on my new bed and jumped up. I lay there, silent, for hours,
wondering how I had gotten myself into this mess. I went home for the
summer and stayed with my parents.. there weren't many jobs available for a
college freshmen with no work experience. I ended up working the graveyard
Dennys shift downtown. They told me I had to start as a host/cashier and I
could work my way up to waiter, where the real money was. The first day, I
knew I was in the right place. As all the loud drunk people filed in
looking for food, this place became a party. My boyish good looks
complimented my slightly vintage, slightly mod look. Everyone flirted with
me. I felt special. One of the waiters told me I could make a little money
on the side by swiping peoples credit cards in a special reader first
before I ran their card through the visa machine. I could get $10/card. So
far I had made a small fortune. Fate really smiled down on me. I was
getting blown in the bathroom by cute drunk girls, I was making close to
$1000/week in cash swiping credit cards. Life was good. So good I didn't
think to moderate my behavior when the cops came through. Everyone else
believed that my special swiper was a `card cleaner' why wouldn't they?

And now here I am, in prison, day one of One thousand eight hundred and
twenty five. I was shaken from my trance by the sound of piss hitting the
metal toilet basin. It sounded like a fire hose letting loose. That also
explains the faint smell of urine in the cell, it must splatter
everywhere. Christ, five years smelling someone elses urine and from what I
could tell from up in my bunk, some hefty BO. I wondered if they give us
deodorant.

A buzzer sounded and shortly after the lights went out. So far so good. I
curled up under my blanket. And cried myself to sleep. Well, not quite,
right before I nodded off I felt the bed shaking. Rocking really... and it
didn't stop. I realized he must be jerking off and I felt safe. He is
definitely straight, I am safe in here. I started to get happy, thinking
that maybe this wouldn't be so bad, the stories of prison abuse were really
just to scare people. I found myself getting turned on my the rocking of
the bed and slight high pitched slapping noise I could hear. He must be
uncut, like that Russian guy on the swim team in high school, Marek. Every
once in a while when we won a meet we'd celebrate with a jo session in the
showers. Everyone had their eyes closed tight as Rich would talk about the
juicy pussy of the cheerleader he was banging. I would peek mine open to
look at Mareks cock. It wasn't especially big like Richs, but I found
myself fascinated by the foreskin and watching the tip of the head peak out
from the fold on the down stroke. I always made sure I was showering next
to Marek when we won. The sounds coming from the guy in the bunk below me
were similar. In this mildly erotic state I thought about beating off
myself. Then the stench hit me. Shit, what was that? My mind try to deny
it, but eventually relented. That must be the smell of cock cheese, rank
smegma. Fuck, it filled the whole cell. I totally lost my hard on. I almost
wanted to retch. I put my head in my pillow and wondered if this was a
smell I would have to get used to. I hated it.

Then my cellmate let out a big yawn, or something kind of like that. He
must be coming. The bed shook with a couple violent jolts and then all was
calm. I watched him get up, his cock sticking out in front of him... in the
shadows I couldn't really tell just how big it was, my head was still in
under the pillow, but it seemed really really big. That fucker used my hand
towel to wipe his stomach, chest and cock with. I was getting mad, actually
pretending to myself like I might say something, when he turned around and
looked right at me. I froze. There was only a millimeter of a crack between
the pillow and mattress from which I was sneaking a look. No way he could
see me watching. He just kept staring though, almost right into my
eyeball. No way, it was so dark in the cell... all you can really see are
shadows... no chance he can tell I was watching his every move. He crawled
back in bed and every muscle in my body relaxed. Minutes later came the
loudest snoring I have ever heard, punctuated by some crazy farting. All I
could think of was "Are you kidding me? This is my life now?"

-----------------------
miketorrez@yahoo.com
all creative/constructive feedback appreciated.