Inmates of a Kind

Tony, breathing hard on his own, asked in a husky voice if I liked it. With my eyes still closed, I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, feels fuckin' nice, don't it?" he grunted, slowly pushing back into me.

As he plumbed the depths of my ass, I arched my back.

"... awwww fuck that's nice..." I cried softly.

After a short time, Tony quickened his pace and began fucking into me faster. The springs of his bunk started squeaking, and added to our soft cacophony of erotic moans and sighs. Then I felt my balls tighten and my cock twitch.

"Fuck," I exclaimed, gasping for air. "I'm gonna cum!"

Tony leaned forward, resting his rough hands on my chest, and started thrusting faster. I could hear him breathing hard above me, and, even though I never dreamed that having sex with another man could be even slightly pleasurable, he was making me feel incredibly good. It was probably just the novelty of trying something new for the first time, but at that moment, I honestly thought it was the best sex I'd ever had in my life.

Tony laid his body down on mine, and I pulled my legs back as far as they would go. He buried his face in my neck and grunted with each thrust into me. A happy moan slipped across my lips with every stab of his cock. And then, with my cock sandwiched tightly between our stomachs, the stimulation became more than I could take, and I began ejaculating.

I let go of my legs and held them out far and wide, wrapping my arms around him. With each pulse of my cock, my rectum squeezed his and he'd grunt hard. Then he suddenly stopped thrusting into me and began grinding his hips against me. The head of his cock must have been massaging my prostrate and my mouth opened wide and I moaned loudly. And then I felt his cock throbbing inside me. Tony gave a few quick bursts with his hips, growling as he shot his load into the tip of the condom. Then he abruptly stopped, breathing hard and trying to catch his breath.

When his cock was deflated slightly, he slowly withdrew from me. He sat up between my legs and wiped his forearm across his brow. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His hands were on his hips and his chest rising up and down. His cock was arching down slightly. Then I lowered my legs, wincing as my asshole closed with my movement.

"Sit up," he said.

I felt exhausted, but forced myself to sit upright, and when I was sitting on my ass, I winced again.

Tony carefully peeled the condom off and held it out to me.

"Flush it," he said.

It was coated in slime and goo from his cock and my ass, but in my state of mind, I didn't care. I took it from him and slowly stood up from his bunk and walked over to our toilet. When I flushed it, I came back to him and sat down. My cock was now limp and spent and I figured that he'd call it a night. Instead, he told me to get on my hands and knees. I slipped onto the floor and he resumed his blowjob position. Though his cock was as limp as mine, I took it in my mouth and sucked. I ran my tongue all over it, slurping up the residual cum and swallowing. And when he was satisfied he was cleaned up, he said I could get some sleep.

I put my clothes back on and took my blanket down, and then climbed onto my bunk.

The next day, Tony's attitude toward me seemed to have changed slightly. Whereas before he had always been a little distant with me, now he seemed to treat me a bit better. As we stood around the exercise yard, he was talking to his friends and, at one point, mentioned how he had fucked me the night before. I felt embarrassed and his friend, as usual, laughed at my expense, but it really took me by surprise when he clapped his hand to my shoulder and told them I was actually a pretty good fuck. Then he proceeded to tell them how I had a hard on the entire time and even mimicked my moans and cries. I closed my eyes, somewhat humiliated, and slowly shook my head. Tony playfully punched at my shoulder, and I opened my eyes and looked at him. As his friends chuckled, he held a cigarette to his lips and smiled at me. I grinned and looked away. Then they went on to talk about other things.

As time went on, just as with giving him head, I actually came to enjoy having anal sex with him. And the more I seemed to enjoy it, the better he treated me. He'd let me lay on his bunk with him for a while after having sex, whereas before we would simply fuck and he'd tell me to leave. As we laid there, he'd run his hands over my body, pinching my nipples and gently caressing my cock, and I'd do the same for him. I still wasn't attracted to men, and I seriously doubt he was either, but in prison, this is it; this is the only intimacy you know.

After being there for about six months, while having lunch in the cafeteria with him one day, Tony got mad about something. In prison, a lot of inmates have a short fuse. That's not to be unexpected. When you have that many people - that many dumb people - locked up in a confined space, the littlest things can get on your nerves. Fights often broke out over the slightest infraction. And sometimes people were brutally beaten, even stabbed, for what on the outside would be considered trivial, if not even worth the effort to fret over.

Tony was fuming about something, as I sat next to him at our table. Once more, to my surprise, it actually made me feel bad to see him this way, and I carefully reached over under the table and placed my hand on his leg, giving him a gentle squeeze. He quickly turned his eyes to me, and I thought for sure he might haul off and deck me, but instead he gave me a slight grin. I smiled and rubbed his leg and he seemed to calm down.

As he went back to eating, he chuckled, saying, "Eh, fuck it. Ain't worth bustin' a nut over."

I suppose that was the primary reason I never protested, when Tony and I first had oral sex. It wasn't worth being killed over. Having anal sex seemed like the next most obvious step forward. And, like I said, after a while I came to enjoy it. But I also started enjoying the intimacy before, during, and after. Like everyone else there, I would have raped the first woman I saw, had I the chance. I didn't care how ugly she was. Before I came to prison, I had a girlfriend, and even though I wrote to her a few times, she never replied. And that was something else Tony did to surprise me. He knew I had written to her and he knew she never wrote back. When our mail arrived, nothing ever came for me, except maybe a letter from the courts, but the rest was always for him.

One evening, after taking the mail from the guard, I walked over to our bunks, flipping through it. It was no different than mail on the outside: junk mail, advertisements, notices from bill collectors. Dejected, I handed the stack to Tony, as it was all for him, anyway, and hopped up on my bunk. After a few minutes, he stood up and leaned against my bunk. I looked over at him and he gave me a small grin.

"Might as well forget 'er," he said. "She ain't writin' back."

I took a deep breath and sighed, and then felt my eyes begin to water. As tough as Tony was, as hardened by prison as he'd become, he reached his hand over and patted my leg.

"Man, she ain't worth cryin' over," he said. "They never are."

"I know," I whispered.

Then I closed my eyes and felt a tear roll down my cheek.

"I'm just... I'm just lonely," I cried.

Tony chuckled and slapped his hand on my arm, saying, "Well, tough shit! Ain't like you're the only one, ya know."

Then he sank down to his bunk.

When we went to dinner, I sat next to him in silence. His friends seemed to notice a change in my mood, though I rarely said a word to them. They asked Tony what was wrong and he told them. And, as usual, they all chuckled, but just as with Tony, they seemed to treat me a little differently this time. Instead of making fun of me, they tried to cheer me up. They'd tell me about their former girlfriends and ex-wives and what lousy fucks they were in bed or how they were all selfish bitches. Some of their stories were sort of humorous and I chuckled a few times. And when I did they'd all point to me and laugh and clapped their hands on my back. Then one of them called me by name for the first time.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Mark," said one guy whose name I never knew, even though I saw him everyday.

And then another inmate at the table nodded saying, "Yeah, you're better off without 'er. A bitch won't write a guy like you back, then fuck 'er. You don't need 'er, anyway."

I was nearly floored by the way they were suddenly treating me. I turned to look at Tony. He stuck his fork in his mouth and smiled at me as he chewed, and then shrugged and nodded in agreement with his friends.

That night when he and I had sex, it was different. Very different. I pulled my legs back for him, and when he was fully inside my ass, he leaned down across my body. He closed his eyes and started fucking me slowly. Then I closed mine and brought my hands to his face. I gently pulled him down until his lips were lightly brushing against mine. We were breathing hard against each other, his every thrust into my body forcing out a gasp of air from my lungs. My mouth opened, as I breathed heavily. His lips were between mine. And then his cock massaged my prostrate and I moaned, pushing my tongue into his mouth.

Tony suddenly pushed himself up. I opened my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest, thinking I'd gone too far. I gently pressed my hands against his chest.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He looked down between us where his cock slowly pierced into me. My erect cock twitched once, and then his eyes met mine again. A smile slowly crept across his lips and he lowered himself again. And as his mouth came to mine, our tongues came out and we began kissing deeply. I wrapped my arms around him and moaned into his mouth, as he thrust his hips, driving his cock into me.

"Fuck me," I groaned.

After we both came, we laid on his bunk for a long time, gently kissing and fondly each other's cock. When we were both hard again, I asked him to fuck me again. This time, he had me get on my hands and knees. I pressed my chest to the mattress and pushed my ass up high, spreading my knees wide. With a new condom on, he pressed the tip of his cock into me and I groaned happily, as he filled me a second time.

From that time on, Tony and his friends treated me a lot better, often including me in their conversations and calling me by name. They still teased me now and then, and I still blushed, but now it was just friendly ribbing on their part. They weren't making fun of me. If Tony wasn't around, they'd let me sit with them and I'd listen to them talk amongst themselves. I'd keep an eye out for Tony, and when I saw him, I actually became excited. He'd come up and smile at me and I'd give him a broad grin in reply. Then he'd sit down next to me, and start talking with his friends, while I held his hand under the table.

In prison terms, I had become his "Girlfriend", although I didn't know it at the time.

Tony was working out at the weights in the yard one day while I stood off to the side, holding his shirt and watching. Another inmate was standing next to me doing the same.

"You're lucky," he said.

I glanced at him, saying, "Hmm? How's that?"

He nodded toward Tony. "He knows how to treat a girlfriend. You're lucky."

I looked over at Tony as he sat up from doing bench presses. He had large muscular arms and beefy pecs. I really enjoyed feeling them flex when he was on top of me when we had sex. I stood there thinking, you know, he really wasn't a bad looking guy. In that respect, I was lucky, too. I could have done a whole lot worse than him.

Although I hadn't thought about it in those terms, that's how our relationship was playing out. I was, indeed, his girlfriend. In fact, I'd sensed it for a long time, but didn't want to admit it to myself. Whenever I was with him, I felt almost giddy. When he kissed me, I felt lightheaded and a surge of adrenaline would shoot through my heart. And I liked his body. I liked touching him and feeling his muscles. I loved having sex with him. I even enjoyed merely sitting on his bunk kissing him. And I liked doing little things for him. I'd take his laundry to be cleaned with mine and pick it up for him, as well. I'd fold his clothes neatly and set them on his bunk. And I kept his personal belongings in order and our cell nice and tidy for him. In return, Tony made my body and heart feel good.

I'd been there for almost a year, and one evening, after having very passionate sex, we were lying next to each other on his bunk. We were kissing softly, as I caressed his cock and balls. I reached up and stroked his cheek and asked him if he loved me. Tony sat up with a huff and asked me to hand him his cigarettes. Feeling slightly dejected, I leaned over and picked up his pack from the floor and handed it to him. As he lit up, he looked at me and shook his head.

"What the fuck you askin' me that for?" he grunted.

I shrugged and suddenly felt very sad.

He tossed his pack of cigarettes and lighter to the end of the bed, saying, "And don't start your fuckin' cryin', either."

But it was too late. His words hurt and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Aw, Christ," he mumbled.

I quickly wiped my eyes. "Sorry," I said softly.

There's no such thing as "Love" in prison. You don't love someone in prison the same as in the outside world. Out there, love involves an emotional connection and commitment. In prison, it simply means you like fucking someone. Emotional displays behind those walls are a wasted effort and are often mocked, ridiculed, and make you further vulnerable to either verbal or physical attack. But I knew Tony well enough by now to know he wouldn't do any of that to me.

As I laid next to him on his bunk, I tried not to cry, but couldn't help it. He sat next to me for a long time, silently smoking, and then leaned across me and dropped his cigarette into an ashtray on the floor. When he laid back down, he ran his hand over my chest, toying with my nipples. I opened my eyes and he gave me a slight grin.

"Ok," he said, as if reluctant to say as much. "Yeah, I love you."

I whimpered and pressed a hand to his chest. His smile broadened and I asked if he really meant it. He rolled his eyes and smirked, holding up a hand, replying, "I said it, didn't I?" I grinned and leaned up to kiss him. He put his hand to the back of my head and pushed his tongue into my mouth. Then our hands found each other's cocks and we began stroking in unison. I pushed Tony down on his back, slipping my legs over him, and guiding his cock to my asshole. Then I remembered he wasn't wearing a condom. I looked down and asked if he had any more. He shook his head, saying no, he had used the last one on me. I thought for a moment, and then grinned and asked if he wanted to knock me up. In prison lingo, that means fuck me without a condom. Tony's face lit up and he nodded eagerly. I pushed myself off him and reached for his jar of Vaseline. It's not a very good lubricant for sex, but it's all we had at the time. I rubbed some all over his cock, and then reached back and dabbed a little around my asshole. Then I brought my leg over him and reached down for his cock. I slowly sat back onto it and relaxed my asshole. As he entered me, he put his hands on my hips and gently thrust his cock upward.

We both moaned softly.

When he was firmly inside me, I began rocking up and down on him. It felt really different without a condom. And I know he noticed the difference, too. Tony was smiling from ear to ear, as I bounced up and down on his hard cock. He arched his back, pushing deeply into my body, and we both groaned at the same time.

"...aw fuck..." he cried.

After a few more thrusts, his breathing started to come more rapidly. He was going to cum soon. I began bouncing faster, jacking my own cock at the same time. And when I was about to shoot my load, I pushed my ass down hard onto his cock, stabbing it as deep into me as I could get it.

"OH SHIT!" he gasped, and then I felt his cock spasm inside me.

I frantically beat on my cock, gasping and crying out, unconcerned if anyone heard us mating. My balls clenched hard against my body and the tight spring inside my cock was suddenly released. A long, heavy stream of thick white cum sprayed out in front of me, splattering across his heavy chest. With each pulse, my anus squeezed Tony's cock tightly and he moaned in response. I could feel him depositing his cum deep inside my bowels.

I was bouncing up and down on him, smiling, my eyebrows held high, and my lungs gasping for air. Sex had never been so good. Tony opened his eyes, and as my asshole sucked on his cock, he grunted hoarsely, "Aw fuck, yeah, baby. Aw fuck, I love you." I fell forward onto his chest, and our mouths opened. We kissed hard, sucking on each other's tongue.

We laid there for a long time kissing, his cock still very hard and buried inside me. My own cock was now rigid once more and I sat up, kneading his hard pecs with my fingers. We both smiled. I didn't need to say anything, as he knew what I wanted. He began thrusting his hips upward again, and I closed my eyes and sighed happily. A few minutes later, we both ejaculated at the same time.

I accepted my new role as his girlfriend and, to be honest, I enjoyed it. He treated me just like I was a woman and, over time, I found myself acting more effeminate with him. It wasn't a conscious display on my part, however. It was as if my mind and body were acting on instinct. Tony was the dominant male and I was being submissive to him. For a while there, it worried me a little. Even though I enjoyed having sex with him; even though I felt good every time he held me in his arms and kissed me; I knew I wasn't gay. A few times, when Tony wasn't around, I'd try to arouse myself by thinking of women, but it did nothing for me. On the other hand, when I thought of him on top of me, driving into my asshole, my cock would instantly spring to life. I loved feeling him cum inside me. I loved tasting his cum, lapping my tongue all around the engorged head of his cock. But like everything else in prison, there's not much you can do about it, so you might as well accept it and make the best of a bad situation.

After being in prison for a year and a half, although I still hated being there, time seemed to pass more readily, now that I was in a relationship with Tony. It really helps a lot when you have something to keep your mind off where you are. You don't stare at the calendar as much. I suppose that's one more reason I liked being with him: he made my time there more bearable.

Sometimes he'd do little things for me; token gestures that a boyfriend might do for his girlfriend. In the outside world, these things might seem silly, even laughable, but in prison, they actually carried a lot more weight and meaning.

For Christmas, he bought me my own mirror and a tube of KY. He'd been letting me borrow his mirror for the longest time and, like a true boyfriend, he would act like it was a terrible bother when I asked if I could use it. But he'd hand it to me, trying hard to pretend he was very disturbed by my request. I'd giggle and blow him a kiss, and then he'd smile.

Money is hard to come by in prison, so when he bought me those things, it really was a generous act on his part. He could have just as easily spent that money on cigarettes or other items for himself, but instead he spent it on me. And when he handed them to me, as I sat on his bunk with my eyes closed, I almost started crying when I saw them. I threw my arms around him and hugged him, planting kisses all over his face. He acted embarrassed and tried to push me away. I couldn't wait for lights out that night so we could try the KY. And when we did use it, it made sex so much more sensitive and erotic for the both of us. I couldn't thank him enough.