Leavenworth

I still couldn’t believe it: sentenced to life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit.  Actually, the guy had tried to kill me!

It all began a few months ago, while I was traveling through Kansas.  I had stopped for the night at a fleabag hotel, just to have a place to rest my head.  At a local bar, I had struck up a conversation with a handsome, well-built man who had similar sexual tastes as I do.  One thing led to another, and we ended up back in my room and naked on top of the bed. The sex was great, and we went on late into the night.  Eventually, both of us exhausted, we dropped off to sleep, our muscular, sweaty bodies still entangled.

The next morning, I came awake as he sat up and got out of bed.

“Time for you to leave already?” I asked groggily, enjoying the view of his morning wood.

“Yeah,” he responded as he dressed quickly, even pulling on his gloves.  “I really hate to do this, but I have to.”  He took my gun off the chest of drawers, aimed it at me, and tried to fire, but the safety was on, so he couldn’t.

I was wide awake now and lunged desperately at him.  As we grappled for control of the gun, somehow the safety released and a shot rang out.  The guy looked at me funny and then fell to the floor, dead, a bullet through his heart.

What can I say?  I panicked, grabbing the gun and getting dressed as fast as I could. Unfortunately, the arm of the law was faster.  I was arrested as I walked out of the hotel.  Because the dead man had been wearing gloves, only my prints were on the weapon, and with no witnesses, I was quickly tried and convicted.

So here I was, in a cell at Leavenworth.  It could have been worse.  I had the cell to myself, which was unusual.  I got three square meals every day.  There was lots of recreation time with the weights in the yard, so I was able to keep my body in tip-top shape, muscular and cut and ripped.  At five-foot-ten-inches tall, I wore my 290 pounds well.  I have managed to maintain my well-muscled body into my mid-30s, thank goodness.  I’ve been told I’m handsome in an Italian sort of way.  My ethnic heritage accounts for my hirsute body, and my cock, at nine hard inches, and low-hanging balls are nothing to sneeze at.  Oh, and did I mention that I’m exclusively a man-lover?  Always have been, ever since I was old enough to know what I liked.

Today marked the beginning of my fifth year here.  It started like any other: awake at 6am, get dressed, breakfast, bathroom, out into the prison yard to work out.  But when I returned to my cell before hitting the showers, one of the guards was waiting for me.

“Hey, Borelli, the new warden wants to see you,” he said.

“Any idea why?” I asked.

“Nope.  Just told me to get you and bring you to his office.”

I hadn’t met the new warden yet.  He had arrived several weeks ago and, I had learned, had spent his time reviewing prisoner files.  Still, I hadn’t heard of anyone else being summoned to his office.  I went over in my mind any possible infraction I might have made, but I came up empty.  Worried, I meekly followed the guard from my cell down the long hallway and through a set of double doors.

“In here,” the guard indicated, motioning to a windowless door.  I stepped into an also-windowless room, and instantly the door slammed shut behind me.  It also sounded like it locked.  I was getting really nervous.

The new warden (I assumed it was him) stood with his back to me, illuminated by an overhead light.  He was, in a word, huge - a good ten to twelve inches taller than I – and must have outweighed me by close to one hundred pounds.  He held a file – mine, I presumed – in one beefy mitt.  Slowly he turned to face me, a smile on his broad, handsome face.

“So you’re William Borelli,” he said, his blue eyes raking my body from head to toe appraisingly.

“Yes, sir,” I replied respectfully, matching his stare with one of my own.

“I’m the new warden, Mike Pratt.”  He reached out and shook my hand warmly.  “I’ve been looking over your file, Bill.  If you ask me, it looks like you got a raw deal.”

“Why do you say that, sir?”

“The official account in here …” he indicated the file he was holding, “… says that you lured the victim up to your room and shot him in cold blood because he was a government agent about to arrest you for drug dealing.  Did you know he was a government agent?”

“No, sir, not until it came out at my trial.”

“I didn’t think so,” he snorted.  “Employees in the bureau where he worked take a vow that if they ever get involved with anyone who might blow their cover, they have to eliminate the person.  He must have seen you as a threat.”

Now it was my turn to snort.  Before I could speak, he held up a hand to silence me.

“Let me see if I can reconstruct what probably happened,” he went on.  “And don’t interrupt until I’m done.”  He proceeded to narrated the events leading up to my arrest as if he actually had been there.  It was uncanny.  When he had finished, from the astonished look on my face, he could tell that he had hit the nail on the head.  He chuckled, “Well, am I close?”

“That’s exactly how it happened,” I said.  “But how did you …?”

“When you’ve been in law enforcement as long as I have, you get hunches about people.  I knew the dead man vaguely, and he always seemed a little ‘off,’ like a loose cannon.  Besides, I’ve been watching you every day since I arrived here.  You don’t seem like a killer to me.”

“Gee, thanks,” I snickered.

“Now, I’m going to ask you two questions, and I want you to promise to be absolutely honest with me.”

“I promise, sir.”

“Good.  First question: do you prefer sex with men or with women”

I was taken aback by the question, but still I answered unhesitatingly.  “With men, sir, exclusively.  It’s not a matter of preference.  I always have.”

“An excellent answer.  Second question: what do you think of me?”

This one was easy.  “I find you extremely attractive, sir.  And that’s even with your clothes on.”

That rattled his composure for a split-second. His steel-grey eyebrows shot up, and his mouth puckered into a wry smile at my boldness.

“I find you extremely attractive also, Bill.  I get hard as a rock when I see you working out alone in the prison yard, wearing either your prison jumpsuit or, even better, those skimpy black briefs you sometimes exercise in.  But I’ve never seen you naked.”  Pulling his shirttails out from his trousers, he began unbuttoning his shirt from the collar down, his blue eyes never leaving mine.  “Why don’t we rectify that right now?  Let’s get naked together, eh?”

I needed no additional urging.  I tore my eyes from his to concentrate on unbuttoning the front of my jumpsuit and shrugging it off my shoulders.  It fell to the ground in a heap, leaving me naked but for my shoes and socks, which I quickly toed off also.  My muscles, still somewhat pumped from my recent workout, gleamed with sweat, and my nine-inch boner pointed straight out from my crotch.

An appreciative whistle from the warden as he perused my nude body redirected my attention to him.  He too was completely naked.  His handsome face was topped with a steel-gray military crewcut, but other than that and the hair under his arms and at his crotch, he appeared to be almost hairless.  Unlike my gym-sculpted physique, his muscles lay in huge broad plates on his body, emanating power.  His beer-can-thick, twelve-inch sex-tool jutted out and down from his crotch, hard and drooling pre-cum.  Although I was sure that he must be at least twenty years my senior, he had the body of a much younger man.

“Oh, Daddy!” I breathed softly.

He cocked an eyebrow and chuckled.  Opening his arms wide, he urged in a low, sexy voice, “Come here, Boy.  Come to Daddy.”  As if in a trance, I leaned into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him.  He pulled me tight against his hard body, my face nestled in the cleft separating his beefy, solid pectoral muscles.  I felt his meaty hands rubbing up and down over my back, massaging and kneading me from my pumped lats to my tight glutes.  I was in heaven.

Eventually he reached for my chin and turned my face up to his.  His mouth descended over mine, and our lips locked in a tongue-dueling, spit-swapping kiss, the likes of which I had never experienced before.  As we kissed, I moved my hands to his pecs and found his quarter-sized nipples.  As my fingers began to pinch and twist them, a loud moan rumbled in his throat.

He broke our kiss long enough to groan, “Ooh, that’s right, Son.  Work Daddy’s tits. Make them hurt.”  What could I do but comply with his request as he continued to moan his pleasure?  I felt a thrill of happiness hearing this magnificent man call me “Son.”  He was my Daddy and I was his Son, and all was right with the world.

Something the size of a log began rubbing up and down along my muscle-laddered midriff, wetting my abs with moisture.  I quickly realized that it was his gigantic boner weeping pre-cum, working it into my body hair.  Breaking free of his embrace, I dropped to my knees in front of him.

Leaning forward, I licked the enormous mushroom-head of his boner, making him moan even more as I lapped up his essence.  His cock swelled even larger, and it looked like he was about to cum.  Quickly I grabbed his bull-balls and yanked on them hard.  That usually delays my orgasm, but in Mike’s case, it accelerated it.

He let out a yell, and his brawny mitts seized the sides of my head as he tensed up.  Great gobs of sperm blew from the deep cleft of his cock head and splattered against my face, dripping down to catch in the hairy jungle of my sweaty chest.  I finally was able to wrap my lips around the geysering organ, and a river of cum spewed into my mouth and down my throat.  Grabbing onto his beefy butt cheeks, I pushed a couple of fingers between them to probe the sweaty crease.  I could feel his butt hole spasming, opening and closing during his orgasm, so I shoved one thick finger inside to find his love-nut, resulting in renewed waves of his semen into my mouth.

As the flood abated, he began to fuck my face slowly, almost lovingly, making sure that my tongue and lips milked every last drop from his firehose.  Eventually he pulled out completely, gasping heavily from his exertions.  He pulled me up and eagerly licked his congealed sperm from my chest hair, then kissed me deeply, feeding it to me with his tongue. Finally he straightened up to his full height.  He stared, eyes glazed and chest heaving, at nothing in particular.

Figuring our naked time was over, I bent over and began gathering up my clothes.  That got his attention.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes focusing on me.

“I figured that since you got your rocks off, we were done here,” I responded, somewhat defensively.

“Really?” he said, sounding a bit hurt that I would think that.  “What kind of Daddy do you think I am that would leave his Boy unfulfilled, especially after you drained me so completely?  I’m a better man than that, I hope.”  I dropped my clothes, and he gathered me in his arms once more.

After more making out, sucking and licking all over each other’s sweaty body, he leaned into me and whispered, “How would you like to take your Daddy’s cherry ass, Son?”  I stared at him in disbelief.  “Oh, come on, Boy.  I’m clean, and I know you’re clean.  What’s the problem?”

“Sorry, Sir.  I’m just having a hard time believing that you’re cherry.”

“Son, when you’re built like me, guys just assume that you’re a Top.  They don’t even dare ask if I want to be fucked.  I give you my word of honor that no one has ever been up my butt – until now.  But I want you to be the first – and possibly the only – man to breed me.”

“Okay, Dad,” I acquiesced eagerly, my cock aching in its hardness and desire.  “Where do you want to do it?”

Mike lay down in the floor, spread his legs wide, and raised them up.  “I want to watch you as you fuck me, Son ... watch you take my anal virginity.”

I needed no further urging from him.  I went down on my knees and began to lick his muscle-butt, pushing between the twin globes to probe the tight pucker.  After about ten minutes of this, he began to whimper, so I wetted one of my fingers and began to circle his asshole, pushing in little by little, past the sphincter, until I was in to the third knuckle.  I rotated the finger, stretching the lining of his fuck-chute, before pulling out.  His grunt of disappointment quickly changed to a moan of pleasure as I upped the ante, now using two fingers.

“Damn, you’re tight!” I exclaimed.  “I hope I’ll fit up there.”

“You’ll …do … fine, Son,” he groaned.  “Damn, that feels … so weird … but in a … really good way!”

As we had no lube available, I worked up a wad of spit and spread it all around and into his sweet hole, then repeated the process on my cock, which by now was drooling pre-cum in anticipation.  I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this hard.

“Okay, Daddy, relax and open up.  Your Boy is ready to breed you.”  I slapped both butt cheeks quickly, and he gasped at the unexpected contact.  In the split-second that he relaxed his hole, I plunged in all nine inches of my throbbing tool with one quick thrust.

“Aww, Jesus, shit!” he groaned as he felt himself being impaled.  He rolled his head back and forth, and beads of sweat broke out on his head.  He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. But I’ll give him this: he never once called on me to pull out.  I was so proud of him at that moment.

“Relax, Daddy,” I cooed in his ear.  “I’m all the way in.  You took me like a champ.  I’m going to keep real still until you adjust to my being inside you, no matter how long it takes.  Soon you’re gonna feel real good, I promise.”  He nodded his understanding.  I raised my head so he could see me smiling, and I could sense him slowly start to relax and calm down as he stared at my reassuring face.  “That’s right, Daddy.  How does it feel?”

“It feels… weird … like I have a 2X4 up my butt,” he panted.  “But it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.  I think … I think I’m ready for you … to start fucking me … and don’t … don’t hold back … Son!”

“God, I love you, Dad!” I beamed as I began to fuck him – out, in, out, in, out, in … each time increasing the speed slightly, pummeling his sphincter into mush.  Before long he was fucking me back, meeting my thrusts with those of his own, pistoning his hips in response to mine to ensure maximum penetration.  His hole was tight as a vise … well, a vise lined with soft fine feathers … and insanely hot.  I had forgotten how fantastic a really great fuck could feel.  It had been years … well, actually, since the government agent whose death put me here five years earlier.  Since then, I’d had to make do with my hand exclusively.  But now I was back in the saddle, and did it ever feel wonderful!

For a while I could hear the slap of my balls against the warden’s butt whenever Ithrust into him, but as my speed reached a frenzy, the sound stopped as they pulled up to the base of my boner.  I switched my angle of attack slightly, and suddenly the tip of my cock found his prostate.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening and his cock suddenly back at full mast and drooling.  “What was that you just hit?”  I pulled out and then rammed it again.

“That’s your love-nut.  You’ve probably never had it stimulated before, but there’s always a first time … like being fucked!”  I repeated the procedure.  Soon he was a quivering mass of muscle, begging me to do it again, and every time I did, his cock spurted more pre-cum.  Before long, he was an incoherent mess, cursing and whining and groaning.  I held his arms fast so he couldn’t touch himself, but it wasn’t easy with his sweaty body thrashing about.

At last my imminent orgasm would no longer be denied.  Sperm thundered up my cock-shaft and tumbled out into him, followed by salvos of my cum, cooling the insane heat of his bowels and lubricating his hole.  I gave one final thrust against his prostate, and his cock erupted, hands-free, spraying semen all over his torso.  Some even landed on me.  He howled his release, and I hoped that the room was well insulated so that the guards couldn’t hear our rutting.

At long last I collapsed on top of him, and again he wrapped me in his muscular arms.  I felt so safe … so loved.  I could feel our hearts beating as one, and I hoped he could too.

After a while we disentangled and rose to our feet.

“I want more of that, Son … a lot more,” he said, kissing me tenderly.  “Someday I want to breed you, too, but that’ll take a lot of preparation.  I don’t want to hurt you … ever.”

“So where do we go from here, Mike?” I asked as I gathered my jumpsuit and began to wipe myself clean with it.  “I’m stuck in here for life.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed as he also began to dress again.  “About that … I got a hunch that you might be getting a reprieve soon … maybe even a full pardon.  See, I have connections, Bill … people in high places … that can review your file, and with me as your advocate, I expect they’ll agree with me that your sentence was a gross miscarriage of justice.  The day you walk out of here a free man is the day I retire from the prison system, so I can walk out with you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Mike?  Do you want us to be together as much as I do?”

“That’s what I’m saying, Bill.  And in the meantime, we can still meet here whenever we want.  Don’t worry, the guards are good with it.  I let them have their fun, and they let me have mine.  I can’t have you sleeping with me yet, but I’m sure that day will come.  I’ve searched my whole life to find a man-lover who was also a masculine, handsome muscleman.  Who would have thought I’d find him here?  There’s just one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you handle a life sentence … with me?”  He chuckled as I nodded eagerly.

Fully dressed, we hugged and kissed, and then I was led back to my cell, with a spring in my step and a sparkle in my eye.  Life was looking better all the time!