Date: Mon, 28 Feb 2011 17:40:02 -0500 (EST)
From: johngalaor@aol.com
Subject: Memories of a Night in Jail 2

Written by: John Galaor
<johngalaor@aol.com>

Category: adult gay interracial sex, anal intercourse.

Warning:

This story contains Adult Material and is a fictional story of consensual
sex between a white young man and some Moroccans.  It is a male gay story.

If it is illegal where you live to read adult material, leave now!

If you find Adult material offensive, then you may also leave now.

If you have not left, it is assumed you are either not an illegal reader,
and your think you will not be offended.  Then, sit back and enjoy the
reading.


Some words from the first part.

A Spanish soldier is held in a jail in Casablanca.  That city is in Morocco
if anyone does not know.  A lot of people was thrown into the jail on
Fridays, due to some minor offenses; like drinking beer in a bar, or
carrying a bottle of wine hidden in a basket.  They had freedom to drink
when the French were ruling the nation, but now Morocco was an independent
nation, and this much freedom, was prohibited.  The narrator was very
impressed buy the beauty of a young black male.  Then, this very night, in
a very crowded jail, the narrator was deeply stabbed by the mighty dick of
the black beauty.  It was quite a stunning achievement to enter such a
powerful dick in such a tight... inexperienced ass.

The last lines of the previous part.

My black boy was gone.  But, in a way, I felt we were together in more ways
than one. During the whole day, I felt swelled my insides. That remind me
of him. I thought his dick was still inside of me.  For a few days, the
cavity of my ass was feeling the memory of his enormous dick.  It was very
difficult to forget. All the stretching he did on my ass was a constant
remind of my thrilling experience.

On the other side, I was feeling his powerful seed running in my veins.  I
felt like I had... hundreds of millions of microscopic black babies
swimming freely in my blood.  It could be a placebo effect.  But for
several days I felt more energetic and more stronger.  I attributed this
energy to the strong manliness stuff the black boy spurt in my bowels.  He
injected me... like a fourth of a pint of cream.  I had its taste in my
mouth.  I was like... smelling it for days.  It seems my skin was oozing
his stuff for several days.

I never had the chance of meeting my black man again.  But I had treasured
the memory of his huge black dick stabbed in my ass for years.  Whenever I
felt down, or a little depressed... I recall the memories of this moment;
my ass skewered by his... enormous... hard piece of flesh.  It was an
unbelievable event.  Sometimes I think it never occurred.



Memories from a night in jail

Second Part.

I was a little sad when the young black left.  All the detainees were freed
and the jail remained now almost empty, with only seven persons in.  The
Spanish people went back to sing and one of them, the most short and
slender was doing some dances wearing only his underwear.

Some of the Spanish soldiers there, were watching him with mild leering
eyes.  I am not sure if any of them was lusty enough to use him during the
nights.  I felt not any attraction for the slender boy.  I was mostly
hooked by a male showing a lot of power and manly stuff.  They have a
special shine on their skin and eyes when they are full of lust and need
badly a pussy or something.

Nevertheless, I was in peace with myself.  I had an inner strength in my
blood that was not common.  So, I thought it was the result of the
injection I had from the black young man.  I began to think that I needed
more of this stuff.

Among the Spanish people jailed there, nobody was aware of my adventure
with the black stud.  I am not sure if they were smelling the scent of the
black man in my skin.  It was very strong and was oozing through my skin
and my breath.  I had a faint idea the guy laying next to me, had smelled
this powerful scent.  But he did not comment.  It seemed to me that he also
loved this scent.

After a five days, everybody was washing.  They asked the guard for the can
of water and we were like showering.  I showered myself also, and most of
the scent from the black man evaporated.

Later in the morning a group of us were sent to the judge in Casablanca.
We declared before the judge why we were in Morocco.  And what we were
going to do there.

Some days later, they passed me to another small cell where was another
young male that was in the jail with me.  The cell had a small tap with
water, and the guy had made a ball with his trousers drenched in water and
was tapping on the floor like this, plash, plash, plash.  Plash, plash,
plash.  He turned again to pour more water on his trousers and continued
tapping it on the floor.  Plash, plash, plash.

"What are you doing?"  I asked him.

"Washing Moorish style?"

"Washing?"

"Yeah.  If you have not soap, this is the only way to do it."

"Ah!  I did not know that."

"One is always learning something."

As he was tapping the ball of clothes of the floor you can see the water
was going out of the ball carrying some dirt.  After twenty minutes he
said,

"I finished with this."

I helped him to wring the trousers and he hanged it somewhat from a hook on
the wall.

"I going to undress.  I suppose you won't mind to see naked."

"What?"

"I going to wash my shirt and underwear."

"Oh, no.  I don't mind at all.  We are all made of the same stuff."  I told
him.

He stripped of his clothes and began to pour water on them.  Then he
started to wash the clothes tapping the ball repeatedly on the floor.
Plash, plash, plash.

I watched him crouched over his heels while he washed.  I felt not any lust
for him.  He did not look as he had an excess of... his balls full of stuff
or something.  Then he was not a giver but a receiver, like me.

After he finished, I started doing the same with my clothes.  I was naked
but guy did not showed any appreciative glance for my body.  I was a little
disappointed.  I would like him to tell some leery comments on my body or
my ass.  But he do not felt any lust for me.  Anyway, he had an equipment
that showed... well, I think he was not much equipped.  Both his dick and
balls were small.  But he had not sissy manners or whatever.  He simple was
not full.  I mean... he lacked... stamina... whatever that means.  I don't
know, size, power, drive...  he do not have any sign of lust in his eyes.
He was mostly hungry.

After a while, we were both naked and waiting for our cloths to dry.

"I think we soon are going to be left free."

"Left free?"

"Yeah.  They could not have us here forever.  They had to feed us, you
know?  That costs money."

"I see.  I do not know where to go."

"Well, they are going to ask you, where you are going to stay?"

"Yeah.  I do not know what to tell."

"Well, but you shall give the police an address."

"An address like what?"

"You can tell, I am going to stay with my uncle.  And you give them his
name.  So, you have to think of a name just now."

"A name?"

"Yeah.  They must see you not hesitate trying to invent a name.  You tell
the name of your uncle easily.  As it were real.  You can say your uncle is
a republican living here.  And the address is... Valencia Street, number
85.  Just like this."

"In Valencia Street, 85?"

"Yeah.  You have to give the police an address.  It's supposed they don't
want to have any bums loitering in the city."

"I see."

After a while in silence I asked,

"What am I going to eat?"

"You've never been... alone in life?"

"No.  Never."

"Then you had a family and a dish of food at the table every day?"

"Yeah."

"Then, you fucked it up, man."

"Yeah.  That's true."

"Well, now you have to fend for yourself."

"I don't know how to."

"Well, you have to do a little snick, and a little beg.  You wouldn't find
a work here."

"I wouldn't find a work here?"

"No.  And you are a little old for a rent."

"What it means a rent?"

"To rent?  To hustler... If you were... younger you would be a great
business in renting."

"Renting what?"

"What you think is for rent.  Your ass."

"My ass?"

"The trouble is that there is not any shortage of boys to fuck."

"Not any shortage?"

"No.  It's an old tradition here.  But as you are blond... and your skin is
so white...  Well, but you would need a patron for that."

"A patron?  What is a patron?"

"I've heard a saying.  It is like a... like boss or a master.  He feeds you
and take care of you.  For you are... an asset.  He rents your ass, or any
part of your body.  The master knows a lot of men that would pay well to
rent a boy like you."

"You mean... renting my ass?"

"Yeah.  You've never been fucked?"

"Er... ah... no."

"I thought you... and that black man..."

"What black man?"

"You know well what I am saying.  He was sleeping by your side last week."

"A black man?"  I asked feigning ignorance.

"Well, Pedro told me all about it.  You were reeking of... you know.  You
were smelling of jizz from the black man for nearly a week."

"Was I smelling?"

"Yeah.  I got a whiff of you myself.  Pedro told me you were interested in
the black man.  He said, the black fucked him very well."

"Oh, my!!  What a shame!"

I was now blushing.

"It's not big deal."

"What?"

"This is life, dude.  We have to do anything to fend for ourselves."

"So, you think..."

"Did you like it?  If you like it... then it was right."

"You mean...  it's not big deal?"

"Do you liked the black inside you?"

"Er... well...  yeah."

"How was it?"

"It was... it was huge.  I never... had seen anything like this."

"Then..."

"I do not understand... how I dared so much."

"So much as what?"

"I got it all in.  I was like... I got it stabbed in my ass."

"You got it all?"

I was a little scared to tell, then in a whisper I said,

"Yeah."

"Then?"

"I was shitless scared.  For a couple of minutes... I thought, I was
busted.  This dick has killed me.  I was really scared."

"It was so big?"

"No.  It was an unbelievable dick."

"Then, why you did it?"

"I don't know.  A cousin had fucked me when I was younger.  I thought this
all was history.  But... sometimes I had fantasies with strong but sweet
men.  I had friend that I liked, for he was very strong.  I craved for him,
but he was not interested in anything of my ass.  It was like he had not
lust at all.  But he looked hot.  Then, sometimes, I wanted to feel... to
know how it was to have a man's dick inside me."

"Well, now you know.  You has had this experience."

"What about you?"

"Me?  What do you want to know?"

"Have you... ever... done something like this?"

"I should not... tell anything about this."

"Why not?  You said it was not big deal."

"Well, when I was a little younger I earned some pretty money with my ass."

"You did?"

"Yeah.  I was raised in an orphanage.  The older boys were fucking all the
younger ones, and all those weak enough that could not fight off any intent
to top them.  Then, I had been a bottom many times in a row."

"What you mean... a bottom?"

"A bottom.  It's easy.  One is on top, the other is the bottom."

"Oh!  I see."

"There is some way we could have some food?"

"You mean outside this jail?  Well... let me see.  In the port.  There in
Spain I visited the port countless of times, to beg some food in the
fishing trawlers.  Those that fish sardines."

"Then..."

"Then... I jumped on board, and asked the man on guard on the ship.  I
chatted for a while with him and asked for some sardines to eat.  Then he
said, yeah.  How are you given a head?  Or he grabbed my rear and said, you
got here a nice tight ass.  I bet it's very sweet.  Then he fucked me and I
got some sardines."

"He gave you sardines?"

"Yeah.  That's life.  One gives over and you take it.  Of you grab it, when
nobody gives a shit to you."

"Then, here in Casablanca...  Can I beg for some fish?"

"I think you can.  The world is the same shit everywhere.  Why not?"·

"So, you think I can beg some food this way?"

"Of course.  There's more.  If the skipper likes your mug..."

"What if he likes it?"

"Well, you are a beauty.  You have an age...  How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Good.  You look much younger."

"Do I?"

"Yeah.  Perhaps the skipper... got a fancy for your ass and take you on
board."

"You think he might do it?"

"Of course.  He is the skipper.  Any man would like to fuck your ass."

"You mean..."

"Yeah.  I heard tell... that in ships of old, there was always a cabin boy
for that."

"For what?"

"To fuck."

"A cabin boy?  I had read some novels about ships and I had never read any
of this stuff."

"They couldn't write about this.  Then only way to know about is by
thinking.  Young lads are being fucked on dry land, where there is a lot
women.  Then, it follows that the same thing has to happen in a ship.  This
is a question that never was put in written form.  The censure do not
permitted this.  In novels, all sailors and even pirates are painted like a
chaste gang.  Their only known sin was that they got drunk from time to
time and loved fight each other."

"Have you also read novels?"

"Yeah.  I've read a handful of them, some years ago.  That was when I was
living with a foster father.  He had a house full of books."

"Then..."

"Then, it is life, man.  It swallows everything.  All good times have to
have an end.  It's like this."

"How I do enter into the port?  I've seen a port in Spain and had guards on
the gate."

"It is very easy.  You are blond and look like a foreign guy.  Then, you
have to wait for a bunch of sailors coming back to their ship.  As you see
them, you walk by their side a little on the rear.  The guards would not
ask them for the passports, then you passed with them into the port."

"You are very clever.  How do you know that much?"

"It's life, dude.  Life teaches a lot of stuff."

"I see."

"Sometimes life is sweet, sometimes is very hard.  Sometimes you think that
huge is going to bust you.  But it don't.  Sometimes it hurts, but
sometimes fills you with half a pint of pleasure."

I loved to heard this dude talking.  He was like a... a dude full of
wisdom.  Then, one of my dreams was to write stories.  Then I thought `this
dude would figure one day in one of my stories.  I was so happy with him
that I asked,

"What's you name, dude?"

"Manuel."  He said.

"Manuel, what more?"

"Manuel the son of a whore.  Never mind names."

"Never mind?"

"They mean nothing.  If you got not a family, you got not a name."

"I see.  My name is John."

"Why John?  You are not Spanish?"

"Yeah.  But I like more to be called John.  Like in the novels, you see?"

"Like in the novels?"

"Yeah.  I'm living like in a novel.  This thing isn't real.  It's a fucking
novel."

"You are a little crazy."

"Why?"

"You dared to get that huge dick up your ass."

"Well... er..."

"Was it very big?"

"To tell you the truth... it was... too big.  I cannot yet believe it."

We both were silent for a while.

It was getting dark.  The light from a small barred window, was not giving
any more light.  A dim electric lamp was switched on and gave off a faint
light over the gray walls of the cell.  Our cloths were already dry and we
clothed back.

Tomorrow, it would be another day, I said to my self.  I have to hurry up
and start the next part, guys.

End of the Second Part

I hope many of my readers would like me to follow up this story.

Do you?  Please, tell me if this story is worthy of being continued or not.

Email me to, johngalor@aol.com

To be continued.