Gay Erotic Stories

I had the cell all to myself for the first six months but then Weymouth county decided to raise some money by renting out jail space to state prisons. Now, listen, these guys from state? Hey, they were a rough bunch. I was pretty much a legend in the county for stealing three cars before I got caught but that was small time shit to the big boys. I’m sure they were lying, but any of them you asked told you they killed ten men before they reached 21. After a while, you just quit asking ‘em why they were in jail. Mostly, as I saw it, they belonged in lock up. Sheriff Daly looked out for me when he could so I got a real quiet guy for a cellmate. He put the bad cases in together. I got Caseck, a Pollock with sad, hound dog eyes but they fooled you. Casey didn’t really give a fuck about anything. He was just terminally depressed. Maybe because he didn’t give a fuck, right? Way I see it, you gotta care about something or somebody to make life worth living. This Casey, he just looked at the world as a hopeless and empty place and he didn’t have much reason for living, much less for dying. Casey wasn’t much for conversation, and talking was more or less my hobby. He didn’t mind me going on and on as long as I didn’t expect him to reply or actually listen, you know? Hell, I’d been known to talk the ears off a thirty-acre cornfield so talking to an unresponsive guy was no problem. Every once in a while I’d catch his eyes on me, just a blank stare coming out of his down-turned blue saucers, but it wasn’t like he saw me. It was more like his thoughts was elsewhere and his eyes just focused on movement like a drunk. You know? Porch light on but nobody home? At first I took it for attention when his eyes met mine, but then they’d slowly drift to my shoulder and stare just as blankly. After a while I quit looking at him. His eyes gave me the willies. I’d just ramble on like thinking out loud and pretend I wasn’t talking to myself. So he surprised me, see, when he finally spoke. It was about mid morning and still an hour ‘til lunch. I was pacing and I must have said something about checkers, but I don’t remember what. Anyway, Casey was sitting back on his bunk with his feet up and occasionally scratching at the crotch of his shorts for exercise, and he interrupts something I said with, “Yeah, I play checkers. You got any?” Shit! I jumped, whirled around to see who the hell had come into the cell. Casey was staring at me with that dim watt look. Did that growled bass voice come out him? Sounded like a rusty hinge, a likely comparison. “You got any?”, he repeated. That time I saw his jaw move, if not his lips. “Uh, yeah. I got some around here, somewhere!” An actual participating interaction? I wondered if I’d end up moving both our men... times I thought he wasn’t really there at all, just my imaginary cellmate, you know? I found the board and held it up over head while I fished around under my bunk for the cardboard box of checkers. “Damn, I ain’t played in a long time. If you any good at all you’ll stomp me. I never did learn to...” “Put it here”, he slapped a big hand down on the mattress by his hip. “You’ll learn. We got time for learning. I’m red. You open first, then winner opens. Strip checkers. You lose a piece of clothes every time I win. Start.” His flow of growling voice intimidated me. I think I liked him better as a mute. I followed his directions but wondered why he would begin a game of strip checkers when he was wearing only the one piece of clothing, his drawers. His confidence was soon proven when he beat me in a dozen moves. I was totally blocked but still looking for a legal move when he growled, “Shirt.” I unbuttoned my shirt while he raised up enough to rearranged the checkers into a start position and opened with an end piece forward. I sluffed my shirt off and determined to watch the game closer that time but it didn’t help. When the guard brought around our brown bags with a sandwich and an apple, he was just playing with me. He had me down to one man and he had six kings. When the guard tossed in our bags, Casey pinned me to the left side with a shotgun lineup of crowned men. “Tee shirt.”, he announced. Something in his interested attention disturbed me when I lifted my tee shirt over my head. He was actually looking at me, not just blankly staring. It gave me a chill. I’d never been proud of my build. Okay, I was then and still am a skinny guy, alright? Maybe he was counting my ribs, hell, they were there for the counting. I consciously sucked my belly in a bit. It was pretty flat, just soft. I’d sort of let go since I’d been in here, who’s to see me, huh? Okay, now this guy wants to look? I guess it made him feel better about his bulging pecs and fist sized abdominals. What the heck, he beat me fair and square. Let him look. I got over the virginal blushes by the time we’d finished eating. He tossed his sack out into the corridor and bit into his apple, lay back and slapped a checker out into play. “You learning real good, motor mouth. Come on, you wanna play some more?” Gee. He gave me an option, at least. I should’a quit. Should have requested yard time even though it was raining. Only, what did I lose if I conceded? I knelt by his bunk and tried to figure out my best defense against a center opening. His fly was gaping open. Oh, shit! My ass began to clench up. I picked an opening response, guess it was the wrong one. He beat me again, soundly. No messing around, his guys were hardly out of start position, just this one king that marched across my side like Sherman through Atlanta. “Shoes!” “Hey, wait. Shoes go one at a time, right?” “ They count as two!” I was getting a little tense. He grinned. I didn’t like his grin. “Okay. Take your time. Ain’t no hurry”, he growled. I was getting warm and damp. A trickle of sweat ran down my spine. I took off one shoe and it clunked to the floor. He scratched his balls, opened left end. I did better, got a man in for a crown right before he jumped me. Well, at least I got a king. My first. “Other shoe”, he barked. I had to stand up to ease my knees. They were going to sleep. Also, I wanted to get out of that kneeling position right across the board from his open fly and all that sweaty pubic hair and that killer size cock curled up like a snake in his hole. My second shoe hit the floor and I massaged my legs with a groan. “You can sit on my bunk.” He pulled his legs up into a bent vee and grinned. “You mighty quiet, today, motor mouth. Tell me one of them stories about your grandpappy, why don’t cha?” “I, uh, guess I better keep my mind on the board.” I eased onto his bunk, not sure if I was allowed more than a few inches. His widespread legs displayed all his manhood like a warning sign. I couldn’t look up at his face without tracking across that minefield. “Yeah, well. I like you quiet. Quiet and humble. That’s nice! What’s a matter? You ‘fraid you’ll lose your ass?”, that’s when he laughed. Believe me, his laugh was much worse than his grin. Sweat ran down from under my arms and tickled my ribs. I didn’t smile. He whacked down his opening, a new one, second from right side. Deadly. It was over quickly, but I learned something. He was leading me. Every move he made forced me to make a defensive move. He could figure out my reaction so he knew where I’d be in two, three moves. I had to change that pattern. “Left sock”. I peeled, he watched. “You got little narrow feet.” Oh, god! Why did he have to stare? Jesus Christ, my ass hole hurt! I wanted to stop the stupid game, but what else did I have to do? This was the most interesting thing happened in months. I did better that time. I moved in haphazard ways, took advantage of his surprise. Just when he was about to force me to make a jump into hazard, I’d sidestep. I still had no offense at all but my defense got a whole hell of a lot better when I learned to avoid his traps. I wore him down to two men and a king against my single king. He even rose up on his elbow to study the board. I actually made him think about his moves, they didn’t come out fast and automatic. I still lost, of course. “Pants, motor mouth!” Well, at least he had to work for them! I grinned. “Okay, okay ... I lost my pants!” I shed them and stood by his bed, raised my arms and turned slowly for his inspection. He looked. I tossed my pants to my bunk and began picking up the checkers... “But I’m quitting while we’re even!” “Even?” He snarled. I didn’t see why he wanted to stare at my ass and my baggy shorts and I wasn’t about to ask him. “Yeah. Now we down to one pair of shorts each and so we’re even, right? Why go on? You don’t wanna see my dick, do you?” I tried to shame him. “You gonna quit now? Shit! You was just getting to be a little competition! That last game was the best one. You might even beat me next time.” He tried to smile, looked like a hungry wolf. “Naw, I need to take some time, think about what I learned, figure out some strategy. We’ll play again tomorrow, okay?” He grabbed my wrist and gripped it tight. “Here’s the deal, see? You gonna play one more game. Then you’ll have more to think about, more to figure out. Got it?” His eyes stayed just as flat as ever but there was an increased stress in his voice, a tension in his shoulders. I really didn’t want to see him get upset, you know? Hell, it was just a pair of shorts. He’d seen me take a leak, take a crap every day. What’s the difference? Fuck it. “Okay, let’s do it. Get it over with so I can put my pants back on.” I shrugged and he let go. I sat back down. He set up the board. “So, why you like wearing all them clothes, anyway? Make you feel better than me or what?” He opened with a left end. I remembered how that one worked. “Better than you? Shit! Not at all, man. I donno. Most everybody around here gets dressed every day. Just habit, I guess.” I opened right side. He glanced up at me. “At state, we had to do our own laundry. The less you wore, the less washing you got to do, see?” His eyes traveled down my bare chest, bore into my lap and the wrinkled fabric there. “and we kinda got into sex, you know? I like to look at naked skin. It’s nice. Gives me some good feelings.” “Hey, Casey! We don’t do that shit down here. Believe me, it’s not allowed, man! The guards see something like that and they toss you in the basement.” I tried to keep any judgment out of my reaction. Somehow, I couldn’t call him a queer to his face, not and expect to live! Goddamn, I couldn’t believe he’d admit it right out in the open like that! I’d sensed his interest in my body all along, I know. I just didn’t think he’d really try anything. Guys don’t, you know? They might think about shit like that, but we don’t do it, right? “Yeah, I know how you are. You don’t even beat off ‘til you think I’m asleep. Why? You think I never do it or what?” He wasn’t even looking at the board, just shoved a man onto a new square. “Damn, I donno! What am I suppose to do? Whip it out and jerk off in broad daylight?” I moved a man up to meet his, forced him to jump into my back-up and then took an extra. He hardly noticed. Moved another man out. “You talk about everything else under the sun but you never talk about sex. “You never said you fucked a girl, did you?” His eyes came back to my face. There was a flicker in there, something human after all. “Sure, I’ve fucked a girl. I guess everybody has, right? Not worth bragging about or anything.” I studied the board, avoided his suddenly interested eyes. “Not everybody. I never did. I’ve been in jail since I was fifteen. Every time I get out I think I’ll do it but I never do. I just fuck up and land back inside. I wish I did, you know. Feels like I’m a retard or something. Maybe a fag, huh?” His eyes begged. “No, man! You ain’t no fag, I know that.” What the hell was I saying? Well, maybe I could convince him to forget about that fag stuff, you know? Work on his confidence or something. It might keep my ass hole safe, right? “You’d go for a girl if you had the chance, you just ain’t had the chance, that’s all.” “I donno, man. They make me nervous as hell. I can’t even get a word out when I’m around ‘em. I want to say how pretty they are, how soft and stuff, but I just get quiet and freeze up. You wouldn’t understand. But with guys it’s easy. You just do it to feel good, make each other feel good. If that’s faggot, well, fuck it, I’m a faggot. Who gives a shit? You ain’t never fucked a man?” His pale brows rose up, ready to disbelieve. “No, I really ain’t done that, man.” I wanted to empathize with him so I told him, “I let a guy suck me off one time. I was just a kid, you know, curious.But not...” “How was it? Did you like it? Did you cum?” He spoke lower, quieter. I caught some of his excitement, felt a stirring in my shorts that gave me a flush of shame. I laughed, nervously. “Well, yeah. I came. I guess it was okay”, I shrugged. “I just ain’t into that, see?” My shrug attracted his attention back to my chest and down my torso. He looked at my bare skin like I look at a Playboy. It reminded me of the way Denny used to look at me, when I was about sixteen and busting for any kind of sex I could get. “I love getting blowed. Almost as good as a hot fucking. Kind of slow and gentle like, sweet, you know?” His face got a dreamy look, I didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking about. His cock lifted his shorts in a lance thrust. He rubbed at it, distractedly. My own stirrings increased. Just the nearness of his sexuality was more stimulation than I’d had in months. Thinking about Denny sucking on my cock was an added impetus. I had to cover my boner with a hand. He watched me, knew what I was hiding. His touch on his cock pressing against his shorts became more sensual, more obviously a stroking movement. I saw a move that would bring me another trap, shoved a checker into the spot and told him. “Yeah, I donno about fucking a guy, but this one time I got blowed, it was pretty damn good. No girl ever did it like he did. He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure.” I had him! He couldn’t think about the game and sex, both. I let my gaze linger on his slow moving hand. His breathing grew faster. He took the forced jump with no interest at all. “Did you blow him, too?” See? A regular guy, he wouldn’t ask shit like that. “Me? Hell, no. I don’t do that, man! He kept begging for my cock so I let him, no swap out or nothing.” I kept looking at the board, couldn’t believe what I saw. I took a triple jump and left my man in a safe square--one move from home base. Casey reached inside his fly, grasped his meat and squeezed. His shorts were damp and thin. I could see every move. I could see the veins pop out along his shaft. My hand moved in my lap, almost without thought. I gripped the cloth-covered ridge. It was hot to the touch. “I would have blowed him. Sex is best when you both get off. Like sharing the pleasure, you know? Kind of selfish to let him do you and you don’t do nothing for him. I wouldn’t do that.” He didn’t have many moves to consider, didn’t seem to care, he just pushed one forward. “Well, I did jerk him off, okay? I never told nobody, but I guess you understand stuff like that, better’n most guys would.” I put my man in home, Casey crowned him. “That’s good, man, jerking him off. That’s okay. At least you gave him something. You didn’t make him feel like a slave or nothing, did you?” He watched my hand. I let my fingers dance. His own was surging inside his shorts. I felt like a kid, a circle jerk with my cousin. That was pretty hot when I was fourteen. Kinda hot right now, too. I shoved a second man into crowning territory, that gave me two kings and five men. He had only six single guys left. I ate him up in a few jumps. He never even slowed me down. “Okay, sport. You got me. You beat the shorts off me. First time I’ve been whipped in three years.” He shoved his shorts down, kicked them off into my lap. They were warm. His cock stood up at fixed attention, red and purple. He flipped over, shoved his ass up and his cheeks opened on a dark tunnel and I looked. I thought about it, too. He grinned over his shoulder. “I could teach you a few more games. You think about it.” Quite a sight, a big strong man laid out like that, inviting me to top him. Sort of a power ride, you know? I could imagine probing the tight and wet hole, the hot pressure and sudden release. Then he sat up quickly and laughed, reached for his shorts. His huge hand shoved mine aside. He grabbed my dick and pumped it. “Yeah, you’re ready to learn, too. You’re not such a bad guy when you stop talking. Kind of cute, too.” He touched my cheek with warm fingers and a chill shuttered down my whole body. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt tenderness. His smile was a nice one, full of teasing generosity and playfulness. I liked him like this. “But after light’s out, okay?” I whispered, as if somebody might hear. “Okay, after light’s out. Mmmmm, nice”, he moaned, as I curled my palm around his cock, “... better stop or I’ll shoot.”