those tall skinny black guys you see all over the NBA, but shorter an’ stockier.  Like what you’d see on a local court.  Like what’s-his-face -- John Stockton, who used to be on the Jazz.  Yeah, that’s it; he looked a little like John Stockton, just not as scrawny.

He stuck pictures of his girlfriend an’ a kid he had by some other chick up over his bunk, like he was advertisin’ how straight he is.  Like it’d mean anything.  An’ he wouldn’t go near anyplace where he could get taken, if he could help it.  I heard a couple of guys tried to take him down in the shower an’ found out he knew how to fight.  Seems that’s what landed him in there -- beatin’ the shit out of some other punk who pulled some crap on him or stole his pot stash or some shit like that; I never did get the story straight.  Didn’t care if I did, either.

Anyway, I already knew he was gonna be my next mouth.  That’s all I’d wanted from these punks up till then -- just somebody else to do the job instead of my right hand.  I figured I’d get him to trust me then make him give me a blow job, an’ I’d make him happy to be givin’ it ‘cause I’d protect his other end.  I’d tried fuckin’ a guy after a year inside an’ didn’t really get off on it, but blowjobs?  Hey like I said, a mouth’s a mouth.  So I put out the word.  Didn’t take long for it to get around that this fresh meat was Curt’s so stay the fuck away.  Maybe the guys thought he was already lettin’ me have at him, even though I wasn’t plannin’ anything till he’d got to feelin’ nice an’ safe.  Makes it easier.  An’ nicer.

So we’d been bunkin’ for about four weeks an’ I was figurin’ another week before it was time to break him in, but this one night he felt safe enough to undress where I could see him.  An’ I finally saw that he had this round smooth bubble of an ass.  Like something a fag photographer’d take a picture of an’ put in a dick magazine.  An’ it got me to thinkin’ about Connie.

Her hair was the same color as this punk, but I didn’t notice it till that night.  Her skin was as smooth as his.  Nice tight perky little butt an’ round tits that were real as real could get.  Not big, just right.  Shit, I loved suckin’ on her tits for an hour before I fucked her.  Made her crazy, all set to go before I began pumpin’, an’ then she’d wrap her pussy around me so tight, it made me gasp an’ groan an’ pump even harder an’ flat out roar when I fired.  Shit.

Well...that thought got me goin’.  Got me th’ meanest fuckin’ wood I’d had since I arrived.  I couldn’t get her out of my mind, an’ it was the first time since I’d been in that I couldn’t.  Shit, my balls were so blue I didn’t want to move.  But I couldn’t lie still, either.  Just the feel of my boxers against my skin brought me close to lettin’ loose.  But no way was I gonna let that happen while this kid was still awake; it might spook him an’ make breakin’ him in too tough.

So I lay there, as still as I could, waitin’ while he did his bedtime thing -- piss an’ brush his teeth an’ comb his hair.  He wore this ratty tee shirt an’ high school gym shorts to bed, like always.  He never said nothin’ -- shit, I think we said a total of ten words to each other up to that point -- just plopped on his bunk an’ went to sleep about two seconds after lights out, like he always did.  I already had a sock stashed under my pillow, an’ it took me about two seconds of pullin’ in it to get myself off, all without a sound.

But it didn’t work.  Not a bit.

Man, this picture of Connie was so hot in my mind that night.  I mean, I could just see her.  Feel her legs wrappin’ ‘round me.  Feel her hands on my ass pullin’ me harder against her.  Smell her perfume as I sucked on her tits while I pounded away.  Hear her sayin’ “Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah,” as she used muscles I’d never known chicks had ‘fore I met her.  I wanted -- no, needed to pump my dick into somebody just like I had her, so fuckin’ bad, right then.  An’ I knew jumpin’ the gun an’ grabbin’ a half-assed virgin’s blow-job wasn’t gonna hack it this time.  But like I said, I only fucked a guy once, before, y’know, an’ it wasn’t all that great.  So that’s why I’d been okay with blow jobs the two years since that, ‘cause they didn’t mean anything.  Same for my right hand.  So really that’s all I’d needed.  Till I saw that kid’s ass.  I couldn’t kill the image in my brain.  An’ I wound up with another ragin’ boner.

Christ, I’d of killed to have a go with Connie, right then.  My hands itched to touch her skin.  An’ her kisses, just like sex without sex involved -- if that makes any sense.  Our bodies crushin’ like we were tryin’ to melt inside each other.  Oh, God.  I started rubbin’ my hands together, soft all over each other like she’d do to get me started, sometimes.  Tickle the hair on my wrists.  Then the tender spot under the palm of my hand.  Then trail her fingernails up along the inside of my fingers.  Fuckin’ shit, I needed way more’n a memory, right then.

I finally gave in.  What the fuck, I knew what to do an’ if I closed my eyes real tight, maybe it’d

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