Leslie is a small, weak man working in a maximum-security prison, so he’s wary when the alpha prisoner Samson Miles makes a surprising offer… Samson just wants to be touched, even if that means letting Leslie put him in a mind-blowing Twink on Top situation! Can Samson submit?
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“You come in this cell, boi,” Samson Miles said with a growl. “I’ll eat yo’ ass wit’ a spoon.”
The trustee shivered, blushed and walked away. He was a skinny white man with a weak face, so Leslie wasn’t surprised he was afraid. Samson watched him go and catcalled after his ass as he went. Samson whistled, then glanced in Leslie’s direction. He nodded, looking Leslie up and down.
“Who’re you?” he asked. He ran his tongue over his upper lip, undressing Leslie with his eyes.
Leslie stepped forward. This was his third month working at this prison, and it was his first shift working on the Dangerous Inmates Ward. The men who had cells here were too dangerous to live in general population — they had mostly either killed or seriously hurt another inmate, or had threatened to do so too many times. It was rather like solitary confinement, and at the moment, Samson was the only inmate here who could even talk to anyone.
The cells in the D.I. Ward had two doors, so the inmates weren’t able to come near the hallway — the door to their cell only opened on the second, outer door, which was always shut and locked. They couldn’t say anything to anyone in the hall or even see who was there. But Samson’s outer door was broken, so he was able to interact with anyone walking by for the first in more than a year.
Leslie strode over to Samson’s cell. Leslie was small, he wasn’t weak, but he was barely five feet tall. He was a youthful-looking twink, so he had known the guards and inmates would consider him a weakling.
“I’m Officer Nguyen,” Leslie said. He stopped in front of the cell.
Samson was more than six and a half feet tall, and built like a football player — he spent his commissary money on protein bars so he could continue to bulk up. He was just slightly too old to have a six-pack, but you could tell he did before coming to prison. It was hard to keep a perfectly etched body behind bars, despite what the movies and television suggested, Samson must have spent almost all his time in that cell working out, Leslie thought, which wasn’t too surprising, since there wasn’t a lot else he could do.
“You new, huh?”
Leslie nodded. “I should punish you for threatening that man,” Leslie said. “That’s against the rules, Mr. Miles.” He wasn’t going to do that because it was a lot of paperwork, and he would get in trouble for failing to maintain order on the ward. Besides that, the warden didn’t want a paper trail proving that the outer door to Samson’s cell was broken.
“Oh, Mr. Miles, how fancy,” Samson said. He was so much taller than Leslie that he had to look straight down to make eye contact with him through the bars of his cell door. “Oh damn, you should come in here, little man. I would tear your ass up. You look good enough to eat. I’d wear yo’ little body like a cockhat.”
“That’s another threat, Mr. Miles. I can write you up-“
“Wasn’t a threat.” He murmured lowly, looking Leslie’s trim little body up and down.
“What?”
“I wasn’t threatenin’ ya,” he said. He smiled. “I mean… I wanna make sweet love to ya booty.” He smiled again as Leslie gasped. Samson licked his lips. “Don’t get me wrong. I want pussy. But I been in this room for the last year, and I ain’t seen a girl in person in years. I need some contact, some affection, y’know.”
“Oh,” Leslie said. “So you’d jerk me off?”
“Hell yeah,” he said. He kissed a cell bar and licked it slowly to demonstrate. “I’d lick it clean. I lick yo’ ass too, honky, lick yo’ boypussy like a lollipop wit’ a friendly appeals court judge in the center. Then you can plow me good. I bet a pervert like you know how to do it right, huh?”
Leslie blushed. “Well… not to brag, but I think I’m pretty good.”
“Then come on in here. I won’t tell no one. You the only guard here tonight, right?”
Leslie nodded. “I’m here alone, but I don’t trust you, Mr. Miles.”
“Call me Samson, nigga.”
“That’s inappropriate,” Leslie said. “I’m supposed to call you ‘Mr. Miles’.”
“You think I’ll attack you if you come in here?” he asked with a broad grin. “Put cuffs on me. Put a dental guard in. I just need to be touched, nigga.” He paused and licked his lips again. He kissed his own bicep and took off his shirt to reveal a broad, strapping chest, inked with faded gang tats. He flexed his pecs enticingly. “Is it okay if I call you nigga?”
“I guess so,” Leslie said.
“Good,” he said. “I like Asians. I like the way they taste. I like pretendin’ they’s a woman so’s I can make love inside ’em. I like makin’ a big ol’ pot of love up in they gut. But if you want, I turn the tables for ya. You can stew up the love in my gut, I don’t care. Tie me up so I can’t hurt ya. Just touch me, nigga.” Samson stuck his finger out between the cell bars. “Come on, do it. I know you want to.”
Leslie did it without thinking about it. Samson’s finger was callused and leathery, thick and long — he was so big that all of his body parts seemed impossibly big. His middle finger was bigger than some dicks Leslie had handled.
Samson groaned as though he was going to orgasm solely from Leslie sucking on his finger. He explored the inside of Leslie’s mouth, chuckling when he stuck his finger deep enough to make Leslie gag.
“I wanna taste you too, Officer Nguyen. I don’t care how it happens, I wanna taste you and feel you inside me,” Samson said, his voice low and whispery as though he was worried someone in the other cells might hear (which was impossible due to the ultra-thick double layer of doors they all had).
When he pulled off Samson’s finger, he was surprised to see Samson had pulled his cock out of his orange prison jumpsuit. It was already twitching to attention, its veiny thickness so appealing that Leslie couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was a two-hander, Leslie thought, excited to have something so beautiful waiting for him — being able to top a man like Samson was one of his biggest fantasies, and he couldn’t believe it was coming true.
Leslie took Samson’s manhood with one hand and lazily stroked it. He must have been incredibly horny, because it perked right up to iron-hard immediately. Samson groaned and his knees buckled — Leslie suspected he was exaggerating to seduce Leslie. But he had to admit it was working.
“Hands,” Leslie said.
Samson grinned and put his hands out. Leslie reached between the bars and slapped cuffs on them. Wanting to be extra-careful, he did the same for Samson’s ankles, and he used shackles so Samson’s ankles and wrists were also bound to each other. That gave him almost no mobility. He nearly stopped there, but then Leslie realized Samson’s teeth were still a worry.
“Open up,” Leslie said.
Samson grumbled, but did so. Leslie applied a mouth-guard to him — he had to stand on his tiptoes, and Samson had to bend his knees a bit for Leslie to reach his mouth. That made it impossible for Samson to close his mouth completely.
Then Leslie unlocked the cell, his heart pounding. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. The cell was like a narrow closet, with a dingy steel toilet and sink, and a shelf with a thin mattress for a bed. Samson’s big body barely fit between the walls and the bunk.
“Oh yeah, boi,” Samson said. The mouth-guard was not as tight as it normally was — typically it was used for dental procedures that required a wide-open mouth, but Leslie kept it on the loosest setting, so Samson could still talk with only a slight speech impediment. He simply couldn’t shut his mouth completely. Samson growled seductively and sunk to his knees. “You wanna sixty-nine?”
“No,” Leslie said. “Put your mouth on my dick.” He had never been in a position of power over someone like this, and he intended to use it. Samson looked disappointed, but he sunk to his knees.
He said something as he lowered himself, but the mouth guard made it hard to understand. Something about getting revenge, possible. Leslie was more focused on Samson’s powerful physique.
There was such an extreme height difference that even on his knees, Samson couldn’t reach Leslie’s crotch. Samson’s head was at Leslie’s chest-height. That didn’t slow Samson down, however, and despite the awkwardness of his height, he kissed Leon’s chest. His tongue stayed out, tracing a trail down his belly, then back up.
“Hmmm…” Leslie couldn’t help but moan. Then, growing paranoid, he checked again that they weren’t going to get caught. Not that he was worried about punishment, which would only be minor and only if the warden was who came in, but because he would be embarrassed to be caught like this. For one thing, only a wussy guard who couldn’t outmuscle an inmate would use a mouthguard and shackles like this. Everybody knew Leslie was weaker than a lot of the guards, but he didn’t want to draw attention to that.
Anyway though, nobody was coming, and it was almost impossible that anyone would be. His hands roamed over Samson’s powerful muscles, which rippled beneath Leslie’s touch.
“Yeah, you taste even better than I thought,” Samson said with a rumbling, aroused tone. “You taste just like pretty girls, like lotion and sunshine.” He licked all the way from Leslie’s neck to his belly button, craning his head down to reach.
On a whim, Leslie leaned in and kissed him. He wanted to see how Samson reacted. To his surprise, there was no hesitation. Samson kissed him back, the best he could with the mouth-guard in. He plunged his tongue deep in Leslie’s mouth.
Then he moved down to Leslie’s neck. He couldn’t exactly kiss back with the mouthguard in, but Samson licked and battered Leslie’s neck with his tongue so hard Leslie thought he might have a hickey later.
Leslie took off his pants. Samson grunted his approval and moved back down to licking his nipples, while his hands caressed Leslie’s cock and stroked it to full erection. It throbbed in his grip, and Leslie had to take it away lest he shoot his nut too soon.
Samson pulled down Leslie’s underwear, and Leslie’s cock popped free. Samson had been stroking it but couldn’t see it til now, so his eyes opened wide. He chuckled.
“Damn, boy, you got a bigger dick than any Asian I ever seen,” Samson said with a whistle. “We gonna get nasty, right? You can jerk me off too?”
“No,” Leslie said. He smiled — he was often complimented on his cock size, and he especially liked hearing it from someone as well-hung as Samson. “If you do good enough, I’ll give you a reacharound when I plow you. That’s all you’re getting.”
He frowned but nodded. “Fine, fine, you beautiful, boy.” He licked a trail down Leslie’s smooth, flat belly to his crotch. “You got a big set of balls for a little man,” he said, then opened his mouth and swallowed Leslie’s cock. He gagged as soon as he touched it, but that didn’t slow him down at all. He was so big he could easily swallow the whole thing.
Leslie gasped, he was so surprised by Samson’s willingness to jerk him off — a part of him had expected Samson to back out, which would have been disappointing, but Leslie would have accepted it anyway. His anxiety over the potential for a surprise attack diminished as Samson’s tongue slathered spit over his cock. Samson had to virtually lay on the ground to do it, and after a few seconds of awkward stooping, he did precisely that. He rolled over onto his back, inviting Leslie to mount him.
Ramming his dick into Samson’s mouth, Leslie grunted, as instantly a wave of pleasure washed over him. He groaned. He leaned his body over Samson’s torso and licked his hairy pecs and meaty chest. Leslie realized it was impossible for them to truly sixty-nine — Leslie would have to grow about six inches taller just to kiss the tip of Samson’s dick — but Leslie did stretch over him as though trying.
In this position, his cock was forced to dagger down Samson’s throat, and Samson either enthusiastically accepted it or was unable to choke it out due to the mouthguard. It was impossible to tell from Leslie’s vantage point, and it didn’t bother him either way. He moaned into the meaty middle of Samson’s torso, while his hands stroked Samson’s cock from root to tip. He had a shockingly strong erection considering Leslie had barely touched it until now.
But Leslie wanted to focus on the pleasure emanating from his cock, as Samson’s warm, moist mouth and throat squeezed around it. His balls slapped on Samson’s nose with each thrust of his hips, forcing his dick in and out of Samson’s mouth. Samson’s tongue battered the top of his dick, and when Leslie pulled all the way out, Samson gasped as though to beg for more. Leslie didn’t wait long enough to hear if that was, in fact, what he begged for.
“Oh god, hmm…” Leslie murmured. “You have such a nice throat.”
Another low growly sound emanated from Samson’s throat as he enthusiastically handled Leslie’s dick, and the vibrations sent a chill of pleasure up Leslie’s spine. Samson’s fingers — bound by shackles — curled up beneath Leslie’s body, and his muscles all flexed as he struggled to breathe.
Wanting to be sure Samson was still willing, Leslie pulled his cock out. Its spit-slippery shaft spasmed where it lay against Samson’s face. Samson kissed it the best he could around the mouthguard that covered his lips.
“Are you still into this?”
“Hell yeah, come on…” Samson said. “Lemme keep at it, I taste precum, and damn, boy, it tastes good after all these years. Tastes just like pussyjuice, really. A bit saltier.”
His balls slapped against Samson’s nostrils as he rammed his dick all the way in again. Samson choked but didn’t stop licking, no matter how violently Leslie pounded his cock in and out. His body desperately wanted to continue — he had never had such amazing dome — but Leslie didn’t want this to end there.
“You really wanna lick my ass?” Leslie pulled out so Samson could answer. Samson gasped for both air and more dick, and he chased Leslie’s knob with his open mouth. His tongue dangled out as though desperate for it, but Leslie teased him, keeping his knob just milllimeters from Samson’s waiting tongue.
“Fuck yeah,” Samson said with a low roar. When Leslie moved, he licked Leslie’s balls with his thick tongue. He stuck it out of his mouth to demonstrate how big it was, as Leslie got up off him. Samson’s muscles rippled in a way that could have been pleasure or anticipation or could have been him fighting against the shackles and the mouthguard.
Leslie couldn’t tell. He was shocked he would do that willingly, but he wasn’t going to argue. He sat back onto Samson’s face, and he grunted when his tongue pushed in.
It happened quick, like Samson had given a million rimjobs before. Which maybe he had? Leslie wouldn’t have thought so, but you never know in a place like this. It takes all kinds, and there’s one of each in this prison.
A surge of ecstasy jolted up Leslie’s spine, and his whole body tensed up. He wasn’t expecting Samson to go at it with such enthusiasm. Not many men did that. Up til now, the pleasure Leslie had been feeling was very casual — intense, but normal — but this rimjob was visceral and shudder-inducing. It brought Leslie’s cock from erect to spasming and leaking precum, and it made Leslie’s whole body as he fucked himself on Samson’s tongue as though Leslie’s ass was a pussy and Samson’s tongue a giant, wet dildo.
Indeed Samson was so big that his tongue felt like a cock, a rather short but thick cock, plowing him hard. Samson had no compunctions, it seemed, he licked furiously, intensely. His tongue explored every inch of Leslie’s ass, and every motion it made magnified the pleasure coursing through Leslie’s veins.
“Ah, hell, Samson, damn, you got a magic tongue,” Leslie said. His fingers explored Samson’s thick pecs and erect nipples, and they stroked his tangled thicket of chest hair. He was very hairy for a black man, with plenty of kinky black fur tinged with gray, and Leslie alternated between leaning back to grind his ass on Samson’s powerful tongue and leaned forward to bury his face and mouth in the sensitive flesh of his chest. Whenever Samson’s mouth was free, he took a loud hoarse breath for air — which sounded like he was reluctant to keep doing this — then moaned — like he was eager to get back to it — before he plunged his tongue back into the tight rim of Leslie’s ass.
Leslie bounced on his face. His dick begged him to stroke himself off, but he didn’t want to cum too quickly, so he instead kneaded Samson’s big pecs and nipples. Leslie ground his ass on Samson’s face.
When he felt like he might blow his load even without touching himself, Leslie pulled off. Samson’s face was streaking with sweat and assjuice. He gasped for air and licked at the spot where Leslie’s ass used to be, as though he was desperate for more.
Leslie kissed him again, tasting the funk of his own ass on Samson’s tongue, then moved his mouth down Samson’s big body. He descended all the way to his cock, licking every inch of his massive torso. His manhood begged for attention, it raged, pulsating, spasming, demanding someone touch it. Samson flexed his hips as though plowing the air.
As soon as Leslie touched it, he knew Samson was about to shoot his wad. He had been locked up for so long he was ready to explode. Leslie wanted to watch him orgasm when his cock was in Samson’s ass, so he let go. He licked Samson’s nipples until they were both rock-hard, and Leslie let their cocks rub against each other. Precum oozed from Samson’s dick.
“You ever taken it up the ass before?” Leslie asked. He moved slow at this point, to bring down Samson’s tension, as his dick was spewing precum so copiously it looked like jizz. Leslie had seen real men shoot smaller loads of actual jizz. He had to resist the urge to slurp it down. That would surely trigger Samson’s orgasm.
Samson shook his head. “Be gentle, okay? I never done it, but I want you inside me. I need it.” His voice cringed and ached.
“Yeah, I won’t hurt you,” Leslie said. He tightened the shackle-chain connecting Samson’s ankles and wrists, which forced Samson to lift his legs up. His thighs were like tree trunks, Leslie thought as he caressed their hairy thickness. Samson’s fat balls and cock were slick with sweat and precum. Leslie’s hand slowly slid down to his taint, and he played with that sensitive spot there, watching Samson breathe heavily. His muscles all tensed and heaved in sync with Leslie’s fingering.
“Come on, boy, plow me,” Samson said softly. “Stick it in me…”
Leslie let one finger push into his ass. Samson had outrageously thick and plump asscheeks, so Leslie’s entire hand disappeared in his buttcrack just for his finger to make it into his asshole. It was warm and wet, and as soon as he entered him, Samson arched his back. He grimaced in a combination of pleasure and pain.
A shudder ran through Samson’s body, and then Leslie did the same as though it was contagious. His hand caressed the funk-filled hair of Samson’s ass, while his finger plunged in and out. He was gentle at first, then increasingly forceful when Samson didn’t complain. His dick even spasmed as though begging for Leslie to stroke it again.
“Damn, I need it, man, you gotta stick it in,” Samson said, his voice breaking as he groaned. He bit his lip as though he wasn’t used to demonstrating so much passion.
Leslie giggled, amazed at how much power and control he had over Samson’s hulking frame. He would have never thought such a big macho man would love a finger in his ass and beg for even more.
Then he wedged his dick between Samson’s cheeks. Samson grunted in a mixture of embarrassment and horniness. His dick spasmed between Leslie’s fingers. He started to say something — it sounded like he wanted to beg for it again, but was embarrassed by how aroused he was.
Leslie pushed in. He had to spread Samson’s asscheeks to do so, and his cock dragged through a tangled thicket of unkempt hair — normally Leslie didn’t like hairy asses, but he made an exception for Samson.
His ass was hot and tight, but Samson was a big enough man that he could take all of Leslie’s shaft without any lube besides spit. That was good, since Leslie didn’t have any lube.
“Uh, yeah, man, stick it in,” Samson said, whispering, breathless. Sweat dappled his entire body as he struggled to accept every inch.
Leslie groaned as he began gyrating his hips, plowing low and slow to prolong the experience. He stroked off Samson’s cock too, with one hand caressing his low-hanging nutsack.
Slamming his cock in and out, Leslie lost track of time. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour. It felt like they both expanded to fill the entire cell, so all Leslie sensed was Samson’s muscles and the iron of the prison shackles. They writhed together, Leslie inside of Samson, and filling him with precum.
Finally he could wait no longer. Samson gasped and grunted. He bit his lip and flexed his muscles as though trying to shatter the shackles binding him. Cum sprayed all over Leslie’s hand and Samson’s chest.
It was like he hadn’t cum in years, Leslie thought, and a torrent of semen coated his chest. Samson groaned loudly. His dick spasmed in Leslie’s hand.
Then before Leslie could do anything else, he shot his own load. It filled Samson’s ass with creamy goodness, and Leslie blushed as he moaned passionately. He hoped he wasn’t being too loud, but he had long since lost control of his reaction.
“Of plow yeah… ” Samson moaned, and Leslie echoed him.
He took a deep breath, then wiped up all of Samson’s cum with one hand. He had a puddle in his palm, and both hands were coated with his juice.
“Let me taste that,” Samson said breathlessly. He licked the air. “C’mon, I need to get nasty.”
Leslie poured the cum from both his palms into Samson’s mouth, and let him lick the semen off his fingers. Samson gagged as he did, but enthusiastically continued, like he was trying to see how far he could get himself to go.
It was only when his hands were clean that Leslie pulled his dick out of Samson’s ass. Samson sighed with relief, and lay still, sweaty, on the ground. Leslie mounted his broad chest again and kissed him on the lips.
“You work tomorrow?” Samson asked.
Leslie shook his head. “No. But I’ll be here on Sunday.”
Samson frowned. “Nah. That’s the Lord’s day.” He paused and bit his lip.
“I work Sunday night. I don’t even start until eleven,” Leslie said. “At midnight?”
“You come to my cell at twelve oh one,” Samson said with a grin. “I be waitin’.”