The Reluctant Mentor
By:
Morris Henderson
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions
are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chapter 13
Jacob felt a chill down his
spine as the cell door slammed shut, making a loud, metallic sound
that signaled the interruption of his ‘top of the heap’ role as
macho football star. Being locked up with a scrawny little kid only
intensified his frustration and misery.
“Dinner at six, lights out at ten,” the burly guard said curtly as
he walked away.
Tim ignored his new cellmate and yelled, “You call that slop
dinner? It looks and tastes like somebody’s already eaten it.” He
then rolled over in his bunk, turning his back to Jacob. It was not
the sort of deference Jacob was used to getting from his cadre of
subordinate friends. Every mean-spirited fiber of his being demanded
that he establish dominance over the smaller boy whose only manly
characteristic was his loud mouth.
“Tiny Tim! Get your ass up into the top bunk! I’m taking the
bottom.” It really didn’t matter to Jacob which bunk he took; it
would only be one night, anyway. But he had to make it clear at the
outset that he was in charge. Tim didn’t move; he didn’t speak,
which infuriated Jacob. “Hey, asshole! I’m talking to you. Get your
skinny ass outta my bunk. NOW!”
“Wrong, Jake-off,” Tim said without turning around. “I was here
first and I’m staying where I’m at. You got a problem with that,
file a complaint with the warden.”
The insolence was too much for Jacob. He grabbed an arm and a leg
and yanked him out of the bunk. Tim landed with a thud on the hard
floor but sprang up with fists and feet flying faster than Jacob
could mount a defense. Before he could do anything, he was doubled
up on the floor. A firm kick to his abdomen had knocked the wind out
of him. An expertly aimed punch to the nose caused it to bleed.
There was a sharp pain in his jaw where another of the rapid-fire
punches landed.
When Jacob was finally able to struggle to his feet, he saw Tim
standing there gloating. “You little pile of shit!” Jacob snarled.
“Nobody does that to me and gets away with it!” He lashed out with a
fist at the offending grin on Tim’s face. But the face was not there
when the fist should have made contact. Tim had dodged the blow,
grabbed Jacob’s arm, and used his opponent’s momentum to send him
sprawling of the floor.
Jacob looked up at the figure that now seemed to tower above him.
Confused, embarrassed, and in pain, he tried to think of a way to
get revenge. Before he could plan his attack, however, the guard was
at the cell door demanding, “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” Tim said innocently. “We were just practicing some judo
moves.”
“That right, Jacob?” the jailer asked.
The jock had to choose. He could agree with Tim’s explanation or
admit that a scrawny kid had taken him down ... twice. “That’s
right,” he grumbled.
“Well cut it out!” the guard barked. “And clean up the blood on the
floor before dinner time. I’ll check on you then. If you need
medical attention for that bloody nose, let me know.”
When the guard returned to his post, Tim said, “Thanks for not
snitching on me. It could have meant more time in this hell hole.”
Jacob ignored the appreciation and said, “So tell me. Where’d you
learn how to fight like that?”
“On the street. Had to. Little guys don’t have a chance unless they
can defend themselves. Now, you wanna negotiate for the bottom
bunk?”
“Negotiate?” Jacob asked, quite puzzled.
“Yeah. You do me a favor and I’ll let you have the bottom bunk.”
“What kind of favor?”
Tim flashed a brief grin, the first time since their meeting each
other. “Here’s the deal. Take it or leave it. I’m only doing this
‘cause you’re a hunk, understand? When the lights go out and
everything settles down, we both crawl into the bottom bunk. Okay so
far?”
“I don’t get it,” Jacob replied.
“Don’t suppose you would. Yet. Here’s the rest. We’re naked, see?
And I get to run my hands all over your muscles. Then I see what
kind of equipment you got between your legs and play with it a bit.
Now, you get the picture?”
“Yeah. And I don’t like it,” Jacob growled. “You’re a goddam fag.”
“You’re right about that. And a damn good one. That’s why I’m here.
Soliciting in the park downtown. Ever had a blow job?”
“Lots,” Jacob said proudly. “But from chicks, not from a queer like
you.”
“I guar-en-damn-tee you. You’ve never had a blow job like I give. It
takes a guy to really satisfy another guy. We know what feels good.
Ain’t no cunt that knows that. Believe me, you’ll be in orbit by the
time I finish with you.”
“Sorry, queer boy,” Jacob said. “I’d rather sleep in the top bunk.
ALONE!”
“You don’t know what you’re missing. I charge a hundred bucks
outside. Guys gladly pay it and come back for more ... even toss in
an extra twenty or fifty just ‘cause I’m so good. Single guys,
married guys, gays, straights, they all know I’m the best.”
“I said no way,” Jacob said indignantly. “Not with a fag and I
certainly wouldn’t pay for it.”
“I’m not asking you to pay. I’m offering just ‘cause you’re a hunk.
My other customers are old and some are fat. You’re different. You
got a body to admire. I’m guessing that you’ve got a cock to admire,
too. I’m offering just ‘cause I want to but you’d get a helluva lot
of pleasure, too. Think about it. Nobody will ever know. You’ll get
satisfaction you’ve never had before.”
Jacob frowned and climbed up into the top bunk. He lay down
alternately astonished at Tim’s fighting skills and his brazen
offer. Tim lay down in the bottom bunk scheming over ways to win his
cell mate’s agreement. They didn’t speak to each other until supper
was delivered to their cell. It was so bad neither boy did more than
taste it. Only then did they say anything.
“Gawd, that’s awful,” Jacob moaned.
“Yup,” Tim grunted. “Desert will be better, though.”
“Desert?” Jacob asked.
“Tonight when the lights go out.”
It took Jacob a while to figure out the meaning and then said, “I
told you! No way are you gonna suck me off!”
“Let me know if you change your mind,” Tim said blandly.
They returned to their bunks and were soon lost in their own
thoughts. Tim was convinced that Jacob was a gay-hater and there was
little to no chance of bedding him. Jacob was depressed over being
stuck overnight in a smelly jail ... with a fag! He was haunted by
the most unpleasant thought of letting a fag have his way with him.
His mind turned to his outside world where he was king of the hill.
All the guys respected his athletic ability (‘all’ in his mind,
anyway). All the girls (in his mind) dreamed of being seen with him,
of being special to him, of giving themselves -- even their
virginity -- to him. He’d fucked most of the good looking girls that
fawned over him. A few were granted the privilege of a second
encounter. One, Maria, was the embodiment of the sexy Latino
stereotype and had always taken a subordinate yet active role in
their sex play.
Ten o’clock. A buzzer sounded. Lights went out. Except for a bit of
stray light from the dim bulb in the hallway, the cell block was
quite dark. Less than ten minutes later, the cell block was quiet.
Jacob returned to thinking of Maria. His thoughts lingered on the
many times they had had sex. Soon, his arousal increased. His cock
began to inflate. Unconsciously, he fondled himself until he was
steel hard. Then, only half aware that Tim was in the bunk below
him, he started slowly stroking his cock with the image of a naked,
beautiful, and horny Maria lodged in his mind, which made him
extremely horny. He had just begun to stroke more vigorously when a
quiet whisper startled him. “Can I help you with that?” He looked
over to see Tim peering at him.
“What the hell,” Jacob thought. “He’s a goddamn fag but I need to
get my rocks off bad and nobody will ever know.”
“Get up here, whore boy,” Jacob commanded (as it was not in his
nature to request).
Tim eagerly climbed into the top bunk, salivating at the thought of
enjoying Jacob’s muscular body. Tim was naked and hard. He had heard
the unmistakable sounds of rhythmic noises above him and delayed his
intervention until he was reasonably certain Jacob was at his point
of least resistance. He complimented himself on his timing as he
straddled Jacob’s hips. He gently pushed Jacob’s hand away from the
throbbing cock and said, “Relax, big boy. I’m going to give you the
time of your life.”
Tim pulled Jacob’s tee shirt up to his arm pits and his boxers down
to his knees. The fervently homophobic jock almost protested but he
had built himself up to a level of sexual tension and he urgently
needed to cum.
Tim gasped when he saw the rigid cock beneath him and wanted it in
his mouth right away but, with the discipline of an experienced
cocksucker, he resisted the urge. There were other pleasures to
enjoy first. He turned his attention to the admirably muscled torso
and began to massage the jock’s slightly hairy, bulging pecs. He
knew he had to bring Jacob along at just the right pace to allow
maximum time to relish his body without unnecessarily prolonging his
prey’s urge to ejaculate. He toyed with the firm nipples until they
were erect and then licked and sucked them with the skills he had
honed during years of servicing men and boys. Jacob was surprised at
how erotic that was; previously, he had thought that everything
erotic and sexual was centered in his cock.
As Tim worked his magic on Jacob’s chest and nipples, he would
periodically grind his hard-on against Jacob’s to maintain and
heighten both of their arousals. Jacob began to moan with pleasure.
Tim demanded (for he was now in complete control) but in a hushed
tone, “Quiet! The guard will hear you and come to make us stop.
That’ll leave you high and dry. You don’t want that, big boy.”
Moments later, Tim slowly moved his roaming hands down toward the
ultimate objective. Eventually, he shifted his body down over
Jacob’s knees, just the right position to bend over and put his
mouth to the leaking cock below him. But not yet. He had to tease
some more. While he rubbed the inside of those firm thighs, he
feasted his eyes of the massive rod of meat that rose from a thick
pubic bush. He had to restrain himself from immediately deep
throating it but he had promised a fantastic blow job and that would
take a little more time.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Jacob hissed in a husky
whisper.
“Patience!” Tim scolded. “Give me time to do it right.”
But Tim recognized that patience was not one of Jacob’s virtues. He
began to toy with those beautiful gonads that dangled in a wrinkled,
hairy sack. Periodically, he would flick his tongue across the
swollen helmet to lap up the precum that was now oozing profusely.
Each contact would cause Jacob to jerk and would boost his arousal
to another plateau. Eventually, Tim turned his attention to Jacob’s
balls. First he licked. Then he took one at a time into his mouth to
fondle it with his lips and tongue. Jacob was writhing and trying to
stifle his moans.
“Shut up!” Tim commanded, now fully confident that his control over
Jacob was irreversible.
Tim felt he could have spent hours relishing the access to a
muscular teen’s body and cock. But he knew he couldn’t. Jacob’s urge
to cum would mount to unbearable strength. Just as significantly,
his own lust was heightened by the sight, the feel, the taste, and
the aroma of Jacob’s crotch. He therefore launched into the final
phase. He licked his way slowly from the base of the cock to the tip
and wrapped his lips around the engorged head.
Jacob wanted to scream in delight but he obediently conformed to
Tim’s demand of silence.
Gradually, more and more of Jacob’s cock disappeared into Tim’s
warm, moist mouth. Then he began what Jacob had so impatiently
awaited; first slowly and with increasing pace, Tim slid his
proficient lips up and down the spit-slickened shaft. Jacob began to
buck his hips to fuck Tim’s mouth. But Tim would have none of that.
He raised his head and snarled, “Stop it! We’re doing it my way or
no way!”
Nobody had told Jacob what to do or not to do for years, which
explains the rift with his father. Except, of course, the football
coach but he obeyed the coach only because it secured his position
on the team. Now, however, he was a puppet handled by a boy who was
younger, much smaller, and a fag. None of that mattered at the
moment; the only thing that consumed his mind was the intense
pleasure he was experiencing and his impending ejaculation.
Tim knew Jacob couldn’t last very long and he had to achieve his own
climax quickly so he vigorously jerked himself as he continued to
suck on Jacob’s cock. He skillfully delayed Jacob’s orgasm by
strategic pauses in sucking until he felt himself on the brink. He
noticed that Jacob’s boxers were still around his knees and a
malicious thought entered his mind. He deposited several blasts of
his own cum on Jacob’s boxers as he continued to piston the
gay-hater’s cock in and out of his mouth.
Jacob couldn’t control himself. He moaned again. Tim immediately
stopped, moved up to put his face within inches of Jacob’s and
growled menacingly, “For the last time. Shut up! One more sound out
of you and I quit. Understand?”
Jacob grabbed his pillow and bit down on a corner to muffle any
further moans. Tim grinned with satisfaction and returned to
complete the job he had started.
Not long after, both boys got their reward. Jacob had the most
intense orgasm of his life as several volleys of hot cum erupted
from his cock. Tim happily got a mouthful of creamy nectar that he
thoroughly savored before swallowing.
When Jacob recovered from his orgiastic high, Tim was gone. He lay
there reflecting on what had just happened. Being sucked off by a
fag was not so bad, after all. In fact, it was, he hated to admit,
the best orgasm he had ever had. Tim was right. A guy knows what to
do. He lay awake for a long time pondering a dilemma. He still hated
fags but he gradually came to realize that they could give more
pleasure that any girl he had fucked or that had gone down on him.
“FUCK!” echoed throughout the cell block. Jacob had pulled up his
boxers and found the front was cold, wet, and sticky. Tim knew the
reason for the outburst and chuckled silently to himself.
To be continued...
Posted:02/19/10