After pulling a train on his first day in the cell block, Clayton Smithers settled into a life of being regularly and frequently fucked in his highly available and desirable ass. On that epic first day, the new queen serviced at least twenty of his fellow convicts, as many as had been able to get a turn with him over the two hours that they had available. Although he was sore and tired when the time ran out, he relished every minute of it, thinking of it as one of the best days of his life. Some of the men were really well hung, especially the big man they called Knuckles, who had stretched his ass and the adjacent channel as no other man ever did. All of the men who fucked him that day, even those without much length or hardness, gave his prostate gland a delightful workout before pumping their semen into his bowels. Clayton was able to climax too, cumming twice by stroking himself while the other men were getting themselves off by driving their cocks in and out of his eager ass, and everybody enjoyed themselves.
Following that first, very busy day, the demand declined somewhat, and his soft and succulent ass was only used by six or seven men on any given day. However many he serviced, they all loved how it felt and what it did for them. He loved it too, although sometimes he was a bit perturbed at the way almost all of the other men treated him. Most of them acted as if he were a two dollar whore, to be used and left lying on his belly, his pants down to his ankles and their cum oozing out of his ass. Clayton didn't expect love or gentleness, of course, but he did want and believe he should have been entitled to a certain amount of respect and decent treatment, since everybody was having as good a time as he was. Only one man actually gave him what he wanted.
That one exception was Snake Hanson, so nicknamed because of the many tattoos that covered his arms and chest and back. Besides having one of the biggest cocks in the cell block, second only to Knuckles, Snake treated his temporary partner with what seemed to be genuine affection, more like the way a man would be expected to treat a girl friend. For one thing, Snake always supported his weight on his hands and knees, so Clayton could easily move around under him. This allowed the queen to thrust back to meet the strokes of Snake's cock and derive more pleasure from what they were doing. He could even reach under his body and masturbate, letting Top and Bottom get the most pleasure out of the fucking, because both of them would be able to cum. Snake even stroked and caressed the sides and buttocks of the man under him, while whispering real compliments into his ear, letting Clayton know he was appreciated.
It was not completely an act. An odd part of Snake's psychological makeup was the inability to separate sex and affection, and he had to feel a certain fondness for his sex partner, making him unlike many men, especially his fellow convicts. None of the others actually disliked Clayton. Some of them felt contempt for a man they thought of as a punk, but Snake actually had a warmish affection for the man, especially during their frequent sexual encounters. The queen benefitted from this, and the attitude also resulted in some positive results for the tattooed man. By letting Clayton be more active and receive maximum enjoyment from their couplings, Snake received much more physical pleasure than he otherwise would have. He also hoped for private time with the cell block queen sometime, maybe even getting a blowjob if the opportunity arose.
Several months after Clayton's introduction to the cell block, through a series of coincidences, that opportunity arose. Old Goober, Clayton's cellmate, who was so named for his age and his resemblance to a character on "Mayberry RFD" and some other television shows, started having severe chest pains. At his age, there was a fear of a coronary failure, and the old man was moved to the intensive care unit of the infirmary. After his recovery, it there was one, he would most likely be transferred permanently to other quarters, a large dormitory type room where other aged and infirm convicts were housed. That left Clayton with an empty bunk in his cell.
Bill "Rocky" Rockport, long time cellmate of Snake Hanson was no longer on the cell block either. In his case, he had finished his time and been released, and this happened the same day as Old Goober was hospitalized. In the name of efficiency, the prison administration decided to move the newer convict into the cell occupied by the man who had been there longer, therefore having one empty cell instead of two that were only half filled. That way, the empty one could be left securely locked and be basically ignored, saving a few seconds of inspection on the part of the guards.
Those same guards were well aware that Clayton Smithers was the block queen, but they didn't care about that one way or another. They were also aware that would mean Inmate Hanson would be catching a lucky break, and they weren't so happy about that, but they were also not bothered enough by it to prevent the change. Consequently, under the supervision of two guards, Clayton moved his meager belongings into the cell with the man he wished would fuck him more often. That man had been hoping for the same thing, so the honeymoon began.
"Hi, Clay," Snake greeted his new cellmate after the guards had left. "Do you want the bottom bunk?"
"Are you sure?" Clay was aware that the normal thing would have been for the stronger of two cellmates, Snake in their case, chose who got which bunk, and normally chose the safer and more convenient bottom one.
"Yeah, I'm sure." This was not really being generous, because Snake, like most people, preferred to fuck a queen on her bedding and keep his own clean. His new cellmate was aware of that, but it didn't distress him at all, and was what he also preferred.
Once the move was complete and things had been put where they belonged, and Clayton's bunk had been arranged to his liking, he and his new cellmate were sitting on it. The free period, during which the cell doors would be open and the convicts would be able to mingle, was still hours away, and they were free to get better acquainted, in whatever way they chose. They both knew what that would be, and they turned to face each other. Clayton spoke of it first.
