How To Rape A Straight Guy (2 page)

Oh, they’d been cool an’ shit, at first.  They knew somethin’ about baseball an’ followed the Dodgers.  “Though not as much since Mike Piazza was traded to the Yankees,” Wayne let slip.  Lenny piped in with a sigh that sounded like, “Ah, yes,” an’ then paused to see if I was so dumb fuck I’d let slip I got the meanin’ of it.  ‘Course that’s when I knew for sure they were bullshittin’ me, ‘cause it’s been years since Piazza got shipped out.

I didn’t react.  Just told ‘em I liked the Cubs.  I didn’t, really; I’m a Dodger doggie, too, but I knew agreein’ with guys like that’d just make ‘em bolder, an’ they were gettin’ kind of hands-on, already.  No need to rush things; not till I get myself worked up for it.

But somehow they got to bitchin’ back an’ forth about guys an’ sex an’ who’d do it an’ who wouldn’t.  They wanted me to think it was all about some football player they’d heard rumors about an’ whether he’d do it even if he wasn’t into guys if he got drunk enough.  But I still figure they started it as a way to see if they could do a double suck-off on me.  I’d done that for two-hundred once, but they didn’t know that an’ I was takin’ the attitude that “I didn’t do that kind of thing.”  Which I thought’d probably get the price up to two-fifty before they were done.  But all of a sudden it was turnin’ into a real bitchfest.  Not as bad as Connie’d been, but not fun.  Not what I wanted t’ be around.  Like I said, it gets rough thoughts goin’ in your head.

Anyway, Lenny was swearin’ you could get any guy you wanted, in the right place at the right time if you approached him right.  An’ Wayne was sayin’, no way.

“It’s a biological thing,” he sniped in this snotty queer way he had.  “Some men just cannot have sex with men.  At all.  Others may or may not, depending on where you are in the bell curve.”  Which brought a big “Huh?” from me.  “And some men cannot have sex with women, period.  End of story.  It’s not a choice to those on the opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“Bullshit,” said Lenny, snipped, really.  Sniped an’ snipped; the perfect nicknames for those two.  An’ he kept on with, “Sexual function is beyond one’s control.  ‘Period.’  Researchers are just now figuring out that men have no real say over what their dicks will and will not do.  No, seriously!”

I was laughin’ at that one.  These “researchers” are so fuckin’ lame.  Posin’ questions in blind studies an’ expectin’ the answers they get’re true ‘cause the guy doin’ the answerin’ don’t have to tell ‘em who he is.  Which is bull.  Everybody lies, even to himself.  Even in private.  But I’ll tell you one real truth -- show me any guy in prison, give me ten minutes with him an’ I’ll tell you what he can control an’ what he can’t.  I know; I’ve run my own “tests.”

Like there was this one guy -- few years younger than me -- wound up in my cell.  It was his first time in house an’ he was scared shitless some big black fuck’d fuck him.  He had reason -- he was white an’ had a pretty mouth.  I even caught some vatos givin’ him the look.  I figure he played lots of basketball; he had that kind of feel.  Those kind of legs.  Not sticks like all 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 be just like with her.  So I pulled off my boxers, slipped from my bunk an’ stood there with a ragin’ boner, lookin’ at him sleepin’ there.  He looked even more like a kid, lyin’ on his side, mouth open just a little.  An’ it was a pretty mouth.  Curved like a girl’s, but not in a sissy way.  More innocent an’ gentle.  Then I thought about my little brother.  Few years younger than him.  Only family I had left.

I hadn’t seen him in three years.  He’d just about be done with high school.  Probably did good; he was a sharp kid.  But then...I’d seen other sharp kids crash an’ burn an’ wind up in here.  All it takes is one lousy moment when your luck’s lookin’ the other way for you to wind up crushed.  Like this dumb kid lyin’ here.  Just one dumb mistake.  Not like me.  My life’s a series of ‘em, even up to then.  With him, all it took was one...an’ then the fucked up “justice system” sent him here.  It wasn’t right.

Man, I wouldn’t want somebody to do to my brother what I was about to do to this guy.  An’ that kept me from movin’.  I dunno how long I stood there, but I was startin’ to lose the edge.  Startin’ to pull back to where another hand-job’d hold me.  Take a little longer on this one.  A little slower.  More mind to it.  Fact is, I was about to get back up on my bunk to get started on one when he rolled onto his back an’ one of his legs got uncovered.  An’ it was white.  An’ smooth.  An’ almost hairless.  An’ so much like one of Connie’s legs, I dropped on top of him without a thought.

My hand was crushed his mouth before he knew what was happenin’, an’ I had this plastic fork handle I’d ground down to where you could cut paper with it jammed against his neck.  He started to fight me, so I dug it into him.  Cut his skin, a little.  He stayed still, then.

“Be glad it’s just me,” I said, real soft an’ mean.  “I could let a dozen of ‘em in here to have you.  Even make some stash off it.”  Then I took my hand off his mouth an’ pulled his shorts down from his hips -- no, tore ‘em.  I heard ‘em rip an’ felt his dick flop against my hand.  I jerked it away.

“Don’t, man,” he was whisperin’ over an’ over, “please.  This isn’t my way.  I’ve never done that -- .”

“Shut up!  You say one more fuckin’ word, this goes in your brain.  You got me?”

He nodded his head an’ the little pussy started to weep like a girl.  Shit, I didn’t cry when I got it front an’ back from three Mexicans my first time in, an’ I was lots younger than this little faggot.  An’ that pissed me off.

He started to roll onto his belly, but I stopped him.  I hadn’t liked it like that, before, so maybe if I fucked him more like I fucked a girl, it’d be better.

I used my knees to shove his legs apart, then felt around for his hole.  He was shakin’, he was so scared.  An’ somethin’ stirred behind my heart.  I loved it.  Loved the strength it gave me.  The power.  The control.  I used my free hand to put his legs up on my shoulders -- makin’ damn sure the fork was still stuck to his neck -- then I put my dick right up to him.  He began to struggle, again, but I cut him.  Not deep, just enough to let him know I meant it.  Then I said, “Don’t say a fuckin’ word while I’m doin’ it, bitch.  You yell or scream or let anybody know I’m fuckin’ you, you’re fuckin’ dead.”

It was hard pushin’ into him, like his ass was frozen shut.  I used some spit to wet things up an’ still had to work my way in, but once I got the head in, the rest followed easy.  He gasped, then grunted an’ groaned an’ tried to wiggle away the whole time, but I had him too tight.  Man, he had to work at not cryin’ out.  In fact, he wasn’t doin’ too good at it, so I yanked his shirt up an’ rammed it into his mouth an’ he bit on that to keep quiet.  An’ then I got busy pumpin’, ‘cause I wanted it done quick.

Now I ain’t gonna lie to you -- workin’ myself into him like that an’ then fuckin’ him -- it felt good.  A hundred times better’n that first guy.  I finally understood why the guys would tell you that your right hand only goes so far.  There’s somethin’ about bein’ inside somebody else to get off that adds ten times more pleasure to it when it’s what you want to do.  An’ my mind got wrapped up in that, I think.  Took me back to the last time I fucked Connie, just before I was busted.  An’ for a minute, it’s like she was there...if that makes any sense.  Like...I looked down at him, an’ for a second I thought it was her.  Guess it was ‘cause of the darkness an’ shadows an’ the little slits of light comin’ in from the walkway lights, but I could of sworn it was her.  Was her body under me.  You see, I...well, his pecs were round an’ flat an’ solid.  I’d even shown him some exercises in the gym that could fill ‘em out a bit, build him up some; part of the “trust me” bullshit.  But there in the dark they looked a little bit like Connie’s tits, swear t’ God.  I mean, like -- like when she’s lyin’ back an’ they sort of flow to the sides.  Just not as soft an’ -- an’ shit, I dunno how t’ describe it; I just saw her when I saw them.  An’ all of a sudden, I caught myself suckin’ on his tits just like I would’ve done with her.

You see, this is exactly how I fuck my wife -- her legs in the air, me inside her, my tongue on her tits an’ me pumpin’ away.  Slow at first, then faster an’ harder as we got closer to the jolt.  She said I could make her cum more than any guy she knew, an’ I know she wasn’t bullshittin’ me ‘cause she’s a talker when she’s gettin’ fucked.  Maybe that’s why I liked the oral thing with my punks up till then; I don’t want the little fuckers yappin’ or moanin’ or cryin’ or anything like that.  Maybe that’s really why I jammed this pussy’s shirt in his mouth -- so he’d just keep from sayin’ anything.

Didn’t do a hell of a lot of good.  He whimpered the whole time I was doin’ him.  Not that it made any difference, ‘cause I was so lost in it.  I mean, you’ll never know how good it felt.  How much it was like bein’ with Connie, again.

Then I shifted from one tit to the other an’ he lost it, for a second.  He tried to twist away, but I cut him a little more an’ he stopped.  An’ I kept suckin’ on him just to show him who’s boss.

Then I felt somethin’ bump up against my gut that freaked me out.  He was gettin’ a fuckin’ woodie!  I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it.  He couldn’t either.

I stopped an’ pulled back, a little, an’ glared at him.  “What th’ fuck?  You a fag?”

“No,” he whispered.  “I’ve never.  Never.”