Me in Prison

When I was young, I constantly fantasized what it would be like to be in prison. I imagined that I would have loved all the young studs around me, probably available. My name is Ed Downs, and this is the story of how I got my wish. It could be subtitled Ed, Ned, and Ted.

In my early 20s, I met a guy who had served time in the pen. I don't recall where we met, but it was probably at a bus station that I frequented, but not to catch a bus. He was about my age, cute, and a bit strange. He had "sweet" tattooed under one nipple, and "sour" under the other. But what was far more interesting was the tattoo on his cock. When I first saw it, I could see some kind of lettering, but I couldn't decipher it.

But when I began sucking him, I saw that he had "love" tattooed on his dick. And as his dick grew, so did his love. He told me that if I were in prison, handsome young studs would beg me to give them a blow job.

Flash ahead quite a few years. I had a very successful accounting business for 20 years. By the time I reached 50, I decided that I was bored, and sold my business for a tidy sum, investing in the stock market. After working 7 days a week for so many years, I decided to take it easy. A year of doing nothing went by. I got restless and felt that I was no longer being useful.

So I phoned a long-time friend, Al, who ran a large parking garage. I asked if he needed a part time accountant, and he replied yes. On the first day I met his bookkeeper Mary, who just happened to be Al’s sister-in-law. And the company's books? They were a total mess. I could not complain to Al, because it was his sister-in-law. But I made it plain to him, "Wow you really need to get things straightened out here." I explained that the books hadn't been balanced for six months, there were many unpaid bills long overdue, and much more confusion. Obviously Mary, didn't know the difference between her anal orifice and an aperture in the terra firma [translation: She didn't know her ass from a hole in the ground]. You might say that she was the winner among the losers.

Al told me that he had suspected this. I offered to be his bookkeeper and accountant for less than half of the $2,500 he was paying Mary, and he accepted, promptly firing her. This would put $1,000 a month into my pocket. I don't know how he explained this to his brother, but it was not my problem. I was happy with this arrangement. It kept me out of T-rooms, where most young guys shun old trolls. Many gays believe they will stay forever young, à la Dorian Gray, and never become trolls themselves (if they live that long). But smarter young guys know that trolls give better blow jobs. That's the nature of the beast.

I plunged myself into my new duties with relish. I soon realized that there were opportunities for me to earn more moneyBat the expense of the company. I explained to Al that because we were so far behind with bookkeeping, I would need some temporary help. I told him that I had found a company on line that would charge only $1,000 per month, to be paid weekly. Since this was the same amount as my salary, both together did not add up to what he was paying his sister-in-law.

Al agreed. I promptly rented a P. O. Box to receive checks. I printed up a letterhead for the company, which I called "Reliable Bookkeeping," to whom I would issue checks. Al had given me check-signing privileges. I put a phony president's name on the letterhead, as well as a non-existent phone number. I quickly discovered that there was indeed a massive amount of work to be done. Al's customers paid to park using either credit cards or cash--no checks accepted. The cash had to be counted every day, and delivered to the bank. I decided not to mess with cash. All parking transactions were recorded by the guy at the entrance, so I took no risk there. There were tons of bills to be paid, as well as the weekly payroll. The garage had a couple of cute attendants, but I decided not to mix business with pleasure, or put another way, not to shit where I eat.

Now I needed to figure what to do with the checks I received from my phony bookkeeping operation. I couldn't open a bank account in the name of the bogus company without proper documentation. I discovered that our bank would allow me to endorse a check by writing, "pay to the order of" which could be any company or individual. Since I was a good customer at my local liquor store, the owner allowed me to do this. I didn't want to drink $250 worth of liquor every week, so I would buy a cheap bottle of wine and receive the balance in cash. Since it was manna from heaven, I used it to hire male escorts.

This scheme served me well for a couple of months. Al was satisfied with my services, not knowing that I was earning double what he thought I was. He didn't pay much attention to the bookkeeping part of his operation. In fact, he went golfing almost every day. But I was not satisfied with what I was earning. I became greedy, and began to scheme other ways to enhance my income.

Since we were in a commercial area that was deserted at night, our garage closed at 7 p.m. But some people left their cars there overnight, and by posting a bond, could receive a key and have access 24 hours per day. I convinced Al that we should hire a night security guard, since potentially someone could break in during the night and rob an expensive car. He thought it was a good idea. So I arranged with one of my regular male escorts, Roger, to come for an interview with me and Al. I told Al that Roger was a friend. He was muscular, so he easily fit the model of a guard. I explained to Al that Roger would need to work off the books, and so it was better to pay him in cash. Al reluctantly accepted.

We agreed on $11 an hour for a ten hour shift. He was to "work" 6 nights a week. Of course Roger wasn't going to show up. I paid Roger $100 each week, and I pocketed the remaining $560. It was a bit of extra cash in his pocket. Besides, he charged me less when we got together. I cut a check to each cash every week and cashed it at the bank. In turn I would pay Roger. So now my monthly income from the garage totaled $2, 560. But this didn't satisfy me. While I really didn't need the money, this amount cut down on my monthly bills and my male escorts’ expenses.

I started scheming other ways I could embezzle. I developed several. While my office didn't require many office supplies, I decided to fake it a bit. I started ordering larger amounts of things like printer paper, cartridges, paper clips, etc. I went to the local stationery store where we bought these supplies and said to the owner, "You know, your prices for merchandise are higher than you competitors. I can easily go somewhere else. If you want to continue to receive my business, then I will need to receive a commission for my purchases.” The store owner replied, "Let me think this over. I'll get back to you." The next day he phoned and said, "Ok, it's a deal. We need to work out the details."

I assured him I was a modest person, and would need only 20% of the costs handed to me in cash. So each week I ordered $200 worth of supplies. And every week, I went to get my “commission.” I figured that I could sell the extra, unnecessary merchandise to friends at a discount. So I was making $40 weekly from the stationery store, and $150 for reselling it. I made money from both sides of the coin.

Almost a year after my embezzlement scheme went into operation, an unexpected thing happened. Somehow I developed a bad hernia, and had to have surgery. My doctor recommended that I remain in the hospital for a week. This didn’t make Al very happy, since he would have to do the unusual and work every day. Needless to say, I was worried that he might discover my misdeeds. And rightfully so. For some reason he decided to look over the invoices for office supplies. He quickly realized that I was purchasing far more heavily than we needed, and he didn’t see any extra supplies anywhere.

The problem was compounded by the fact that he asked one of the customers who had access to the garage at night about the night watchman. The guy told Al that he had never seen a night watchman. Of course, I learned all of these details later, in court. Al decided to call in an accountant, who sure enough, discovered many irregularities. At first Al decided not to prosecute me, but his attorney convinced him to do so.

Al visited me in the hospital to tell me not to return to the garage, and that he was going to prosecute me. I finally woke up to reality. A trial was scheduled for a month after I was released from the hospital. I wasn’t arrested, but had to show up in court or a warrant would be issued for my arrest. I contacted my lawyer, who explained in detail the penalties. I could get a sentence for up to five years.

However, if I were to repay everything I stole, my sentence would probably be reduced considerably. On trial day, my attorney told the judge that I was willing to reimburse Al for what his accountant estimated I had stolen. The accountant knew about the non-existent night watchman. He researched my fake company and discovered that it didn’t exist. But he didn’t have the whole picture. He decided that I had stolen $46,000. So I received 15 months in a minimum security prison, which was a great relief to me. To repay the money, I simply sold some stocks at a great profit. So I made out like a bandit.

I arrived at the prison on the day my sentence began. After signing in and receiving a booklet about prison rules, I was escorted to where I would be “locked up.” It was room 205. My prison “cell” could not be properly called a cell. It had no bars, but a wooden door that we could close at will, but had no lock. My privileged prison lodgings were more like a dorm room, but a bit smaller, about 9 ft by 12 ft, with two beds and a night stand between them with a reading lamp. There were also two lockers for storing valuables and clothes. There was a window with no bars. And I could wear normal street clothes, not a orange prison jump suit.

The bathroom had just a commode and a sink, but no shower. That didn’t bother me. There was a communal shower room just down the hall, which didn’t displease me in the least. Yum, yum. There was no one in the room when I went in, so I wondered who my roommate might be. I unpacked the few clothes I brought and stored them. I also brought a couple of books to read, and left them on the nightstand.

Since it was already early evening, I decided not to explore the prison, but stripped to my shorts, and crawled into bed to read the prison guidelines I had received. I put my full dentures in a glass of water under my bed. At about 8 p. m. the room door opened, and it was good that I was lying down. Otherwise I would have fainted. In walked the perfect stud, in his mid-twenties, handsome, tall and muscular. I couldn’t believe my good luck. I said, “Hello. I’m your new roommate. My name is Ed.”

“Hi, I’m Ted. Ted O’Connor. Pleased to meet you,” offering a warm handshake. “What are you in for?”

“Embezzlement,” I answered. “I’ve been sentenced to 15 months.”

Ted said that he was in for check fraud, writing lots of small checks without money to back them up. “I’m here for a year, but have already served a month,” he offered.

At 9 p.m. he said, “You know, I’m an early sleeper and riser. Besides I’ve just come from the gym, and I’m dead-tired.”

“Hey, that’s no problem,” I replied. “It so happens that I have the same habit.” Then I had the pleasure of watching him undress down to his tiny biquini shorts. What a treat! He turned out the light, but I was dying to try to get into those brief briefs, so I started a conversation.

“So I guess you’ve got a girlfriend out there.”

“Yeah I do. No I did, because I’m sure she’s not gonna wait for me until I’m out,” he said sadly.

“You’re probably right,” I replied. Then I decided to throw caution to the winds. He could simply tell me it’s not my damn business. But I asked, “So, did she let you fuck her?”

“Yes, but not too often. Maybe she was afraid. I never asked her the reason.”

I got bolder. “Did she suck your cock too?”

“No way, she wanted no part of that.”

“That’s a pity,” I said. “There’s nothing like a good blow job.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I haven’t had many though. The high school whore did it, and I met a guy at my gym who lifted weights. I never suspected him until he propositioned me.”

“Did you like it? Men suck better than women,” I remarked.

“Yeah, he was pretty good at it.”

“Could he swallow your entire tool?”

“No, I’m big down there,” he assured me.

“Yes, I noticed,” I told him hoping he would take my hint.

I thought he did, because he said, “All of this sex talk is making me hard. I have to do what I do every night before going to sleep. If it’s OK with you, I’d like to jerk off now.”

“Be my guest. But I have a better plan. Let me give you a blow job. I’m a professional,” I bragged.

Startled, he remarked, “You? I didn’t pick up on that.”

“Come over to my bed and stand beside it, and I’ll sit on my bed. I do it better that way,” I almost commanded.

He flew out of bed and bounded right over in a split second, guided by the faint light coming through the window. I felt his briefs and got a fistful of a hard, monster cock. I pulled off his briefs with his help, and put my hand around a round hot rock, at least 8 inches long. I immediately swallowed it to the pubes.

“How did you do that?” he asked in a shocked voice. “I’ve never experienced anything like it. Your mouth is better than a pussy.”

“Well, I’ve had lots of experience, and besides I took out my dentures before you got to the room. I will give you the best blow jobs you will ever receive,” I bragged.

I went back to work, but he shortly said, “You’re so good, I’m gonna come fast.”

“No, don’t. Let’s make this last,” I said. “Here’s how. Put your hands behind my head and you control the action. You push and pull my head off and onto your dick. When you feel you are getting close, pull out of my mouth and wait a bit.” He did exactly as told, constantly telling me how much he was liking it. He went through this manoeuver, once, twice, trice, and a fourth time. But he couldn’t keep his dick away from my mouth for more than a few seconds, he was so horny. This all lasted no more than five or six minutes. Then Whamo! He shot a mother load down my throat, or should I say a mother lode?

After he caught his breath he remarked, “God, that was fantastic. I’d like to do that every night. I feel so lucky.”

I replied, “You are lucky. I am lucky. We’re both lucky. And we can do it whenever you want.”

After he got back into bed, I said, “Now I need to jerk off. And by the way, I understand that I snore when I sleep. I hope that won’t bother you. And please don’t tell anyone what we did.”

“No problem,” he assured me. “Jerk off. If you snore, it won’t bother me. I’m a sound sleeper. And don’t worry, what we do here is our secret.”

I woke up at exactly 5 a.m. I don’t need an alarm clock. I tiptoed to the bathroom to take a badly-needed piss, hoping not disturb Ted. When I got back, he had opened his eyes. We exchanged good mornings.

He said, “I need a shower. Come, I’ll show you where it is.” We grabbed towels and soap, donned shorts and flip-flops, and headed down the hall. I saw that the shower room had about 20 showers–one for each two people in our wing. There were already ten or so guys there. Many were in their thirties and early forties. There was one man who looked to be about my age–50. Ted was the youngest person there. Most of the guys had their backs to us, but three were facing the room, letting it all hang out. Naturally I stared, and one of the three gave me a subtle acknowledgment. He was in his early thirties, and sexy. I asked myself, “How, when, and where?” I wanted him.

Ted and I finished our baths, and he chatted briefly with the sexy guy. Once back in the room I asked Ted who the guy was.

“His name is Ned. He’s a great guy. You’ll like him when you get to know him.”

I answered, “Well, I like him already, hint hint. How about introducing me? And isn’t it funny that I am Ed, you are Ted, and he is Ned?”

“It’s a deal,” he replied, not commenting on the name coincidence.

It was now almost 6 a. m. and the chow hall was opening. It was in a different wing. We got in line in what resembled a school cafeteria. And the variety offered was amazing. “This is prison?” I mused. I had scrambled eggs, ham, and home fries, and the food wasn’t bad.

Ted explained that he worked in the commissary, and told me to drop by later. Then he was off to work. I had an hour or so before I had to report to the front office for my work assignment, since everybody has to work at the facility. I decided to explore my surroundings. I discovered that the prison was a pentagon, and had a nice shady area in the middle which was like a small park. It had benches, and a jogging track. There was an outdoor pool that could be used almost year round. After all, this is southern Florida. There was even a tennis court on the grounds. There was a library with internet connection, and a TV room. I felt I was in some country club.

Each wing seemed to have twenty rooms, thus there must be 200 guys in the facility at two per room. Every wing had its own shower room, and I found the gym. The equipment was nothing special, but there were a couple of cuties working out. I visited Ted at the commissary, which was much like an old-fashioned general store, with a bit of everything for sale except for alcohol. Pity.

Now it was time to get my work assignment. I was interviewed by a corrections officer who seemed like a kindly old gent. He was undoubtedly a grandfather. He told me that I could choose my work, provided there was a slot available. I mentioned that the gym interested me. He explained that the guy who takes care of it was being released the next day, and needed a replacement. It would be janitor’s work. I told him that didn’t bother me in the slightest. It would be like a workout for me. He wrote a brief note on prison stationery and told me to take it to the gym and give it to the guy who works there.

So off to the gym to get my orientation training. The gym wasn’t large, but had an adjoining bathroom with two stalls (without doors, naturally) and three shower positions. To the side of the bathroom was a small locked storage room that held brooms, mops, etc. I was given a key to that room, and the gym’s front door. My first day as a job trainee, I did basically nothing but learn the ropes. The guy I was replacing taught me how spot someone, which I had seen, but never paid much attention. During the afternoon, the gym got moderately busy. I was assigned to work from 9 a.m. till 6 p.m Monday through Saturday, with an hour for lunch at the chow hall. A different guy took over my job every day for that hour, and from 6 to 8 p.m., gym closing time.

The next day I showed up for work at 9 a.m., anxious to see how things would develop. There was a chair for me to sit in the gym, and I had thoughtfully brought a book to read. At 9:30 my first “customer” arrived. I greeted him and watched him lift weights, while I pretended to read my book. He was very muscular and undoubtedly not a beginner. He did 40 minutes, and worked up a good sweat. He took a duffle bag into the bathroom to take a shower. I soon followed him in and pretended to be cleaning the walls of the toilet stalls but meantime staring. He looked at his groin area, then gave me a knowing look, and I subtly gave a tiny yes nod with my head. One he turned off the water, I said, “Want me to dry you off? It’s part of the service.” He nodded yes, and I indicated the storage room, unlocking it for him to enter. Naturally I was in heaven. I dried his back first, then had him turn around. By the time I got to his calves, my face was at his cock level. I just opened my mouth and took it in. When we finished, I opened the door and peeked out, but the coast was clear. He dressed, and left. I didn’t ask his name, nor he mine, nor did we exchange any conversation. Totally anonymous. I didn’t I ask if he wanted a repeat some day. I was pretty sure he would.

My second day on the job was routine. There were never more than 3 guys in the gym at any one time. I delighted in feasting my eyes all day. If the guys noticed, they ignored my stares.

A couple of days later, I had gotten off work and was reading a book in my room, with only my shorts on. Ted was either still working, or at the gym. There was a knock at the door. I wondered who it was. I opened the door a bit and peeked out.

Surprise! There stood Ned, all 6 ft and 1 inch of him, with a big smile. Naturally I invited him in. He sat on Ted’s bed. I asked, “Well I guess Ted told you that I would like to meet you.”

“Yes. I saw him in the commissary. He said that I could stop by anytime you are free and told me your work hours.”

“That’s fantastic,” I exclaimed. “My name is Ed. I have a curious question to ask you. When I first saw you in the shower, I stared. You gave me a slight nod. Why?”

“Well, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out your interest. I’ve been around the block a few times,” he explained.

“Does that mean that you might be interested in a first-class blow job?

“What do you think?” Ned answered. “I don’t get an opportunity like this every day in this joint,” he lamented. “Obviously I’m interested.”

I told him to stand up, and to take down his pants and shorts. I was immediately on my knees in front of him fondling a long, skinny prick. I looked up at his beautiful blue eyes and he smiled. “What a decent and simple person,” I thought. He was soon hard and I showed him the same “pull and push” routine that I had taught Ted. But he wouldn’t stop the way Ted did. He kept going until he came, which was pretty quickly. He had just shot his load and was pulling up his pants when Ted unexpectedly walked in, catching him in the act. Ned was embarrassed, said a quick hello to Ted, and left the room.

“What was that all about?" Ted asked.

“I had just finished giving him a blow job. A couple minutes earlier and you would have interrupted it,” I informed him.

“I hope he enjoyed it,” he commented.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to ask him before you came in,” I answered.

Then Ted surprised me by saying “You know, I would like to watch you suck Ned’s cock.”

Astonished, I said, “I’m sure it can be arranged.”

Ted worked it out with Ned, and a couple of days later they walked into our room together. I was in my shorts, as it was a warm night.

Ted said, “I’m going to get comfortable. Why don’t you do the same, Ned?”

I watched fascinated as they both undressed to their briefs.

Ted, being a cutup, remarked to Ned, “My buddy here needs to get his protein every night. Watch me give it to him.” He stripped off his briefs and told me, “Open your mouth, little birdie. I’m gonna give you a big worm for dinner.” Then he grabbed my head and started his now-familiar routine.

Ted told Ned, “Tonight he is very needy. He needs more protein than usual,” winking at Ned.

“I think I can help,” Ned answered, taking off his shorts.

I told Ned and Ted to alternate using my mouth, as it’s more fun for me. It was obvious that they both enjoyed the experience of 3-way sex. It was new to them, and stimulated them more. Ned came first, but Ted took his time. While I was finishing Ted, Ned got dressed, not taking his eyes off the action. Ted came, Ned thanked us both, and left.

And so it went until I was released from prison. I had a ball. Or rather, I had many balls.