In the wee, small hours of the morning, Clayton Smithers woke up with an urgent need to urinate, so he slipped out of his lower bunk and used the urinal in the back of the cell. After flushing it and washing his hands, he started to return to his bunk. His ass was still a little bit sore, but very pleasantly so, because it reminded him of the great fucking he had gotten on the previous afternoon.
As usual, "Knuckles" O'Malley, who was considered by the convicts to be the boss of the cell block, had the first turn. He had the biggest cock of all, and had given Clayton a better time than anybody else, strictly in a physical sense, but his cellmate, Snake Hanson, had actually helped him receive the most pleasure. Knuckles, like the other convicts, used Clayton's ass about the same as they would use the mouth or cunt of a two-dollar whore, cumming into him and leaving, but Snake was much more considerate than that. He treated his sex partner the way a man should treat a girl friend, and Clayton appreciated the consideration.
Being cellmates, they could take their time and really enjoy their coupling, with no reason to rush it. In order to come into his cell and fuck Clayton, the others in the cell block had to wait for the two hour period when the prisoners could do some socializing. That was one reason for the difference, but Clayton knew that wasn't the only reason that one special man treated him differently from everybody else. Even before they became cell mates Snake, whose nickname arose from his many tattoos, caressed the man he was fucking and kept most of his weight off him. That allowed Clayton room to masturbate so he could enjoy a climax also, and no other man in the train had ever done that.
Like convicts everywhere, the two men had a lot of time to fill, and they did so partly with long conversations. They were both intelligent and well-read, and Clayton had developed and admitted to a genuine affection toward Snake and, he had been told, the feeling was reciprocated. As he walked the few steps back to his thin mattress, Clayton looked at the sleeping face of his cellmate on the upper bunk, and the possibility of doing something extra nice for the man entered his mind. He didn't know what it could be, for he had no money to buy him candy or cigarettes or anything else, and his sexual favors were distributed regularly to every man in the cell block who wanted them.
It was a hot night, and Snake was lying on his side, covered by nothing but his jail-issued boxer-type shorts. Clayton thought he might have been having an erotic dream, because his cock was erect and sticking through the fly. As he looked at it, he thought of how much pleasure it gave him and how much his ass gave it, and a thought occurred to him. He wasn't sure, but he believed that everyone in the cellblock had fucked him, but there was one thing he had never done for any of them, and nobody had ever asked for it.
Clayton was aware of the two main ways men have sex together. He had been fucked in the ass hundreds of times, including by Snake, so there was nothing unique about that. However, the other way, one man taking another's cock into his mouth and sucking him off, was something he had never done for anybody. Clayton was aware of the mechanics, having been given blow jobs many times by female victims of his phony psychiatrist racket, and he had enjoyed it immensely. He resolved that was what he would do for the man whom he was thinking of as his boy friend, and he would do it that night.
