Scared Curious


After waiting a few minutes in the infirmary, Monty did in fact reappear, took me by the arm again, and moved me down the main hallway. We came to an intersection: there was one hallway to the right that was obviously well worn and I could hear lots of voices and noises coming from around that corner. We turned left, into a smaller and almost totally quiet hallway, with ten cell doors on each side. They had solid front walls with a door in them, with only one little window in the door, rather than the open iron bars I had envisioned. He stopped in front of one, took out his keys and opened it, and then pushed me in, loudly locking the door behind him. My pulse began to pound in my ears again, and my cheeks felt red. I knew I was at another kind of intersection.

He stood me up against the wall and said "I am Monty, and you call me Sir! Not guard, not "CO" and definitely not Boss! I am in charge of this place and in charge of you. If you make me happy, your stay here will be good. If you don't make me happy, it will be hell. You just have to follow the rules, and I make all the rules. Someone will put a tray of food though that bean slot in the door in a little while for your supper, and then you can bunk in and get some sleep tonight. I am going to come see you bright and early in the morning, and we'll see if you can make me happy! I have high expectations for you, so don't disappoint me!"

The door clanged loudly shut on me, and I had that moment that every prison picture I had ever seen tried to depict, but I now realized that none of them had even come close to conveying the enormity of the feelings I had, and I wasn't even a real prisoner! I knew I was going to get out at noon Sunday. Still I shivered involuntarily, and grabbed the thin and rough blanket on the little bunk and put it around me. It didn't help. I heard a few bumps and noises from neighboring cells, and about 6 PM a plastic tray of food was pushed through the little slot in the door. A steam heated burger, a scoop of mashed potatoes, some green beans, a cookie, and a bottle of Ozarka water. At least I wasn't on the all liquid diet. Sleep was late, and fitful.

I was sound asleep when the door clanged open loudly and Monty walked in, pulling it loudly shut behind him. That wasn't the only thing that was loud.

"Rise and shine, inmate! I have good news and better news! You passed all your medical tests so you are ready for some action. The better news is that I am going to give you some extremely personal attention and very valuable training time. Don't waste this opportunity to make me happy, inmate!"

I felt like a little kid rubbing the sleep out of my eyes while standing in footie pajamas, but I was really a 28 year old assistant professor in a maroon jump suit. But that was about to change.

"Skin out of that jumpsuit on the double, inmate, and turn around!"

I took the suit off in a trance, and soon found my hands loosely handcuffed behind me.

"Time to kneel down for some extended training, inmate!"

His hands on my shoulders pushed me down effortlessly. He took out his nightstick and used the end of it to push my chin up so I was looking right at him.

"I am going to show you something I think you are really goin' to like, boy, and then you are going to show me something that I am really going to like, too. I can always spot talent, and I think you are going to be a real fine performer!"

With that, he took off his boots, socks, khaki pants, and underwear, leaving on his uniform shirt. My mouth dropped open, and I could only stare, slack jawed. If you had been casually leafing through a picture catalog of cocks, you would stop turning the pages and just stare at this one. You would probably turn down the corner of the page for easy reference next time. Viewed live and from about a foot away, it almost stopped my breathing. He put his feet about a shoulder's width apart, put his hands behind him in a stance like a parade rest, expanded his chest and threw his shoulders back, which had the effect of pushing his hips forward, so that that deadly dick was now even closer to me.

My first thought was best described as penis envy, not that he had one and I didn't, like Freud once said women thought, but why did he have that incredible thing and I just had a relatively normal one. I knew statistically that mine was actually just about average, but that my perceptions had been skewed by watching too many porn films starring guys that were way, way above average. This thing was at least two inches longer than mine, and not yet fully erect. It looked amazingly thick and substantial. It seemed to have perfect proportions, in that the ratio of length to girth must approximate the 'golden mean' I remembered from math class as an undergraduate. Having read overstated stories about cocks as big around as beer cans with heads like billiard balls, I tried my best to be objective about this one. It was not as thick as the proverbial beer can, and it was not even as big around as one of those little cans of grapefruit juice that you see in the morning, but it wasn't very far off, and the head wasn't as big as even a tennis ball, but it was certainly bigger than a golf ball, and very impressive. It was also an amazing shade of pink, throbbing and filled with hot blood, and with some deep blue and prominent veins that almost seemed to pulse with energy. It was radiating infrared heat that I could feel on my cheeks, or at least my cheeks were turning very red, whatever the reason. He was circumcised, and the thing was so perfect it looked more like an artist's drawing in an anatomy book than a photo, much less a real cock a few inches from my mouth. All this took about three seconds to run through my head.

The next three seconds were more philosophical. I knew I wasn't really angry about the fact that he had that kind of cock. It wasn't as if I had it first and then he took it away from me, or that he could trade with me, or even that he asked for it in the first place. He just had it. And I wasn't really disappointed with my cock, as I had always enjoyed it, and I knew it was the best and only one I was ever going to have. I really shouldn't resent him having this fantastic one. I didn't hate it, I liked it, I glibly rationalized; and he seemed more than willing to share it with me! As a matter of fact, with my hands cuffed behind my back and him inexorably leaning closer, he seemed positively insistent that I share it. My own cock was suddenly doing its best to salute his, standing up as proudly as it could, and being the best that it could be.

He chuckled. "I knew you would like it, inmate! Just open that talented mouth and take a little time to get acquainted."

I was a guest, so it would be impolite to refuse, wouldn't it? Or was I the host, who couldn't refuse a guest? My pulse pounded through my head again as it touched my lips, the heat of it radiating onto my face even more strongly. My tongue touched the hot velvet surface, and I felt my nostrils flare, both at the strong aroma, and the need to stop the mouth breathing routine I had been using for the last minute or so. Every little parcel of its surface that I touched felt a little different, a little more magical, and I knew I could take my time and try to learn the landscape. I went on autopilot, and just explored. I heard my own breath whistling strongly through my nostrils, and I heard his breathing get louder too. Suddenly he moved forward about an inch, and I realized my mouth was full of its head, hot and throbbing. My heart pounded even louder as I felt the blood rushing in my ears. I sucked it gently, and ran my tongue around it, over it, under it, and on either side of it. Part of my brain said to think of it as a really big and highly engorged clitoris, but I knew this was a whole different animal. And animal was the operative word.

He moved forward another inch, and suddenly my mouth felt stuffed full and even hotter. I instinctively sucked a little harder, and he whistled softly, and then said "Take your time, inmate. Enjoy it the way you want. Then when you get your bearings, I'll teach you a little more."

I was not sure I could take any more of it down into my mouth, as my jaws were straining on it. I began to move back and forth, bending slightly at the waist, closer to him and then farther from him, swirling my tongue at random. I was in a trance. I began to channel all the blowjob porn I had ever watched in the past, which was a lot. I just had a very different point of view right now. I paused and licked his balls, and they twitched. I sucked on them and he sighed. I was fascinated by the idea that I could make him respond to my actions. I renewed my efforts.

I had surely reached the limit of how much of him I could take into my mouth. I was little disappointed. He sighed. "That's all right boy; you are a bit of a small mouthed bass, aren't you? But there are other things you can do for me."

I took great pains to stimulate the head of him using my tongue creatively, by varying the suction and pace, and by turning and twisting my head from side to side while it was vacuum clamped to him. I increased the pace of my in and out motions, and soon tasted a trickle of fluid. It was surprisingly thin and watery, and faintly alkaline.

"Oh, yeah, you are making some things happen there, boy. Go with the flow!"

He put the two longest fingers of his left hand on the back of head, gently discouraging the twisting motion. I responded with more suction, frequency, and tongue speed. He sighed. "You catch on fast boy!"

I kept up that pace for a while. I was enjoying it so much I didn't see any need to change a thing, and I lost track of time. But then I felt the head of his cock swell a little, and the shaft sort of snapped to attention a little bit more, like a jackknife being locked in place. A moment later a small amount of thick and salty fluid leaked into my mouth. Dilute but salty Roquefort salad dressing was my first impression, but with a few unknown flavors mixed in. Somehow this greatly stimulated my production of saliva, and suddenly I was drooling profusely.

He chuckled softly. "I knew you were a natural, boy!"

The two fingers became three, pushing a little more insistently against the back of my head. His legs began to twitch, like his knees were wobbling a bit. He put his hips forward and began a low groan, barely audible. The head of his cock twitched again, and a little more of that thick and sticky fluid leaked out, the taste stronger but not unpleasant. Now I was sure I knew what his come tasted like, and I felt pretty sure I was about to get some more. I just didn't know when. "You've got the scent now, don't you hound dog?" he murmured. "Follow that trail to the end and get it all!"

The three fingers became a whole hand, pushing against the back of my head more insistently. The low groans became a clearly audible growl. I continued my strong suction and tongue motion, but dispensed with the back and forth motion, just locking on to him and waiting for it. The leg shaking became a repetitive little micro dance move, ending in a strong thrust into my mouth. Suddenly the temperature of his cock seemed to spike, and I heard my own heartbeat pounding again. He made a noise like a rough cough, grabbed the back of my head with both hands and said "Oh, yeah, take it, boy!" and then a wild gush of the same fluid, but much hotter and stronger, filled my mouth and covered my tongue. I was assaulted by the heat and taste. It was so much more significant than those first two little dribbles. My tongue felt almost scalded with the heat and the saltiness of it. My throat burned and my eyes watered, and I realized that I needed to think about breathing sometime soon.

I finally swallowed out of reflex, and took a big breath through my nose. I realized I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, and took another quick breath. I then noticed that roof of my mouth was smarting and my throat was burning like I had just swallowed some really hot food without blowing on it to cool it off. Even I got the irony. But then the second big blast of come arrived, and took up all my attention. It was bigger than the first one, hotter, stronger, and ... better. Its arrival was no longer a shock. I savored it a moment, and then swallowed, anticipating another. I was not disappointed. The third was just like the second, but I think I enjoyed it a little more. I realized this was the response I was looking for; I had made it happen, and I was glad that it did.

My heartbeat pounded again, and again I felt very light headed. I must remember to breathe. The fourth blast was a little less voluminous, but also denser and stickier. Was this going to be the last? I hoped not. I drastically increased my suction, hoping to encourage more production.

Monty chuckled again. "That's it boy, suck it all right out of me!"

He didn't have to tell me twice. I think it there were three more eruptions, but I was so intent on sucking, tasting, and swallowing that I wasn't sure. I know I sucked until there was nothing left, and I still wanted more. I then realized that I had shot my wad, too, all over the concrete floor.

Finally he said. "You got it all and a damn fine job, too. You just can't coach talent like that, I always say! Now the key thing to learn is not to stop your work when I come. Use that special mouth to get me hard again. Ideally, you should keep me hard and never let me go soft. We are going to give you another lesson."

I was willing. He reached down and took off my handcuffs. "I'm going to teach you how to use your hands, but don't you ever touch my dick or balls with them."

I put my hands on the outside of his thighs, which felt like tree trunks, and then licked the underside of his cock, going back and forth on the little cord that ran along the bottom of it. I flicked from the top all the way down to the bottom, then reversed and went back up, ending by taking the tip of him back into my mouth and sucking hard. "You've got good instincts, boy, you sure enough do."

Soon I was lost in the texture and taste of his responses to my work, and he was getting hard again. Not quite as hard as he was before, and not quite as big either, but soon the blood pounded in my ears just as loud as the first time. This time he was going to control things, not me. He put one hand on top of my head, and the other around my neck, thus completely controlling my head.

"Concentrate on relaxing. I am not going to try to go all the way down your throat, you're not ready for that, but don't tense up. I'll make sure you can always breathe through your nose."

He didn't choke me, or even bruise me, but his big hands on my head and throat made it patently obvious that he was totally in control. He took it slow, and I felt my jaw relax a little, and soon he was into my mouth further than I had ever accomplished. Feeling the pressure and friction, I realized it must be much more stimulating for him. It must have been for me too, because that feeling of light headedness and a pounding heart returned, as did my erection.

"I'm glad you like it, too." He whispered. Then he pushed my head down a few inches and held it at a funny angle, and then stood up on his tiptoes a little and stepped up the pace. It seemed to be working. My breathing became a little steadier, and my jaw and throat relaxed even more. I began to breathe through my nose as fast and deep as I could, making whistling noises through my nostrils.

"Very good", he side softly. "Now put your hands on my ass, one on each buttock, and use them to control how far into your mouth I go. When you know I am just about to come, squeeze my butt cheeks with each hand. When I actually begin to shoot, use them to spread my buttocks apart, left from right, while still squeezing them."

He put one hand on my face, just lightly touching it, and reached down with the other had and began to twist my nipple. It sent a jolt right down to my dick, and I began to move with the rhythm as he moved in out of my mouth. I found it even easier breathe now; easily, automatically, and then I began adding some suction as he pulled up and stopped just short of pulling all the way out of my mouth. I used my hands to pull him in a little deeper than before, and I added some tongue as he started back in, and soon felt and tasted a steady and sticky trickle of thick soup. I knew exactly what that meant, and I was ready for it.

He paused at the top of one of his arcs, grunted, and then slammed into me and held it, pumping a surprising volume of come into my ready mouth. It didn't feel as scalding hot or aggressively salty, and it was less bitter and sweeter than the last time, but it was still exciting as hell. I swallowed and sucked like a madman, and I realized his legs were about to cramp. Finally he stood completely still and I milked him like a hungry puppy. He finally broke the seal and stepped back. I took a huge breath in through my mouth and realized I needed more oxygen. I panted like a dog for a moment, my light headedness abating slightly.

He was all business again, putting his underwear and then uniform back on. "Outstanding for a first timer, inmate! I don't know for sure if it was beginner's luck or raw talent, but we'll find out. You'll get breakfast through the bean slot in a while, and then I'll bring a couple more playmates to see you. Tonight after supper, I'll come back with a few other inmates. I want them to observe your technique, and then you will get to see one of them have his dream come true. You will be watching him up close and personal, yes sir!"

He hitched up his belt, went out the door and locked it, and walked down the hallway, whistling a tune I did not recognize. I put my maroon jump suit back on. Suddenly I was very thirsty. I finished off the remains of my bottle of Ozarka water, then refilled it from the sink twice and drank both swiftly. I sat on the bunk and burped. It tasted like Monty's come.

A breakfast tray appeared in the slot in the door, and I found I was hungry. It had scrambled eggs, a sausage patty with an almost overpowering sage smell and taste, a biscuit, an orange, and another bottle of Ozarka water. I practically inhaled it, refilled the water bottle and drank again. Then, suddenly fastidious, I brushed my teeth, washed my face with some soap and water, and lay back on the bunk and drifted off to sleep.

I was awakened again by the loud clanging of my cell door. Monty opened it, stood outside, smiled, and motioned as two tall black guys walked into the room. I checked their inmate numbers. They were both 'paying trusties'. Monty said 'You fellows have some fun!" and locked the door.

They stood over me menacingly, hands on hips. "Get outta that suit and get on your knees, white boy!"

They then proceeded to berate me with ghetto argot like they had just caught a rerun of the movie 'Shaft' on late night TV. I couldn't tell a crip from a blood, but I was pretty sure they couldn't either. I had looked over their files in my preparation for this trip. One was an orthodontist from Atlanta, and the other a mid level insurance company executive from Philadelphia. But what the heck, if they were into role playing, I could try to enjoy that too. In fact, I was going to make them beg me for more. It was novel to be able to switch back from one cock to the other, and whenever one was about to pop, I switched over to the other one. Both of them had long cocks, but much thinner than Monty's, and they didn't get as hard, either. Using them for practice, I discovered that deep throat was not as difficult as I thought. I guess watching all that blowjob porn had some benefits I didn't count on. I am not sure that either of them had ever had it like that before, based on the noises they made and the looks I got. I kept them on the edge for a long time, enjoying being in control, and when I finally let them come, they both just about passed out. They didn't produce anything like the volume Monty did either, but I enjoyed it anyway. They headed out the door, no longer acting angry. I had a sore jaw, a raw throat, and a hard on, so I rested my jaw while I exercised my right hand, for stress relief.

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