Ramon is a slim, effeminate prisoner whose cellmate controls his life, putting Ramon on the bottom… Until one day that alpha cellmate — the legendary Thumper White — wants to do him a favor by bending over and allowing another exciting adventure in Twink on Top!
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Prison was not that bad at all for Ramon Mercado. He missed his freedom and easy access to alcohol. He missed his family. He missed being outside at night, seeing the stars and the moon. But as far as prison stays went, his two years so far had gone pretty well. He decided that as he walked back to his cell on the second anniversary of his arrival at the state prison.
Things had gone well for him despite — or maybe because of — the fact that Ramon was a girlish twink with a fantastic ass and long, silken hair the color of unfiltered sunlight. His hips were curved like a pretty woman’s, and he had a sultry voice like a loose woman, not to mention a flirtatious way about him that turned heads in a place like the Florida State Prison, filled with tough alphas who hadn’t seen a real woman in decades in some cases.
Before arriving, he had dreaded coming to prison, unsure what he was in for. The local jail guards gave him sympathetic looks. Everyone thought he’d be targeted for extortion or just plain violence, that the thugs and vatos of the Florida prison system would eat him alive.
But on his first day, Ramon was proposed to by Thumper White, a leading thug from the Bloods gang. Thumper was six and a half feet tall, bursting with muscle all over, his body covered in jailhouse tattoos. He had a small afro when Ramon met him, but had gotten cornrows last year. Ramon was slowly, clumsily, learning how to make and manage cornrows, because Thumper demanded it of his “prison wife”
So he had acquiesced to being Thumper’s prison wife. It didn’t take much convincing.
“I’ll treat you like a princess, baby, as long as you treat me like a king.”
That was a quid pro quo Ramon could get behind. He found hugely muscled alphas like Thumper arousing and alluring, and Ramon had long been an aficionado for the male form. Thumper’s male form was exceptional, and Ramon didn’t even mind that Thumper was getting up there in years and that his body hair was speckled with gray. The hair on his head remained black as night though, and his high yellow skin was smooth and taut like a much younger man.
It hadn’t always been perfect. They argued like any married couple (or like any pair of roommates). Thumper sometimes slapped Ramon, open-handed, across the face. He had never punched him, but he did slap him when Ramon did things wrong, got too sassy, or sometimes for things that were entirely unrelated to Ramon. When Thumper got to be in a bad mood, he lashed out. He always apologized later and kissed Ramon on the lips, which he otherwise refused to do. That made those few sweet kisses feel special to Ramon. His heart swooned every time, and he clutched those broad shoulders as they made out in the dark of their prison cell.
“I’m sorry, baby, I gots a temper in me. I ain’t put it in there, I just gotta put up wit’ it. I gotta work on that, I know. The prison counselor say I need-a show you how I feel. Right now, I feel like kissin’ ya.”
He was also tender at night, when they were alone together in their shared cell. During the day, he was meaner, but at night his nice side came out. Amid the hooting and the ever-present shouted threats of the other inmates, he kissed Ramon’s neck and tweaked his nipples as he relentlessly ramrodded him. He allowed Ramon to choose the positions, and he allowed Ramon to cuddle up with him when the lights were off, but he brooked no dissent as to it happening — not that Ramon ever wanted to say no. He allowed Ramon all the freedom in the world to decide how to do it or what Thumper should do to “pay” for it — Ramon got him to bring him food, clothes, perfume, jewelry, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, whatever he wanted, as long as Ramon gave up the ass whenever Thumper wanted it.
He protected Ramon during the day, even if he also treated him with disdain much of the time. When his fellow gangbangers were around, Thumper called him a bitch (or to be more precise, he called Ramon ‘my bitch’). He made Ramon get his food in the dining hall. Ramon gave massages and begged for Thumper’s cock in front of his friends to puff up his ego. Thumper loved the idea of Ramon loving his dick so much he couldn’t help but try to jerk him off in public — Thumper never let him do it, but he liked it when Ramon tried.
When he walked into his cell that night, the night of Ramon’s two-year anniversary in the Florida State Prison — which was also Ramon’s two-year anniversary of being Thumper’s cellmate and prison wife — Ramon dropped the bag of laundry (both Ramon’s and Thumper’s) he carried. He was shocked to see the cell dotted with lit candles.
“Uh, Thumper?” Ramon scrunched up his eyes. Candles weren’t allowed in the cells, so Thumper must have spent quite a bit to get all these. The lights were off, so the candles provided the only illumination, and their flickering light cast a romantic glow over the tiny prison cell. They gave off copious heat too, not that that was necessary in the already overheated prison.
He was on his bunk, leaning back, stark naked and flopping his big dick between his fingers. He slapped it on his thighs left and right, demonstrating its hugeness. It was thirteen inches long and thicker than Ramon had ever thought possible before he met Thumper. Ramon licked his teeth as he realized Thumper wanted to mess around.
That wasn’t a surprise. Thumper did that pretty much every night. But he didn’t do it with candles and all that.
“Hey, baby,” Thumper said with an awkward smile. “After lights out, I got some treats fo’ us.” Then he growled. “Shut the curtain, boo.”
Ramon did so, his heart pounding. Lights-out was going to happen momentarily. Ramon had finished the laundry for him and Thumper only a few minutes before mandatory cell time. Already outside the cell guards were hurrying inmates off.
“Where’d you get candles?” Ramon asked. He pulled the sheet over the cell bars so no one could see in. It helped muffle the sound too. The guards here didn’t much care what happened — they would ignore the sounds, the smell of weed and the drunken laughter, as long as they didn’t have to see it. Hence, the curtain was always shut when they were both in the cell.
“The chaplain. Told him I was Buddhist and shit,” he said, cackling. “So if he ask, I’m Buddhist now. Tell him I converted last month.” He laughed, a deep-throat belly laugh, like it took every muscle in his jacked body to do it. His pecs roiled as the laughter pumped through his body, and his dick shook, tantalizing Ramon’s tastebuds. He hopped down from the top bunk. “Look in the drawer, baby. I wanna show you tonight how I really feel ’bout ya.”
There was a small plastic set of drawers in one corner of the cell, the only piece of furniture they were allowed. There were four drawers, one for Ramon, two for Thumper and one they both used — anything in that drawer was considered common property (that was a compromise, of sorts, that they had developed after a particularly nasty argument over a bag of crackers). Ramon looked in the drawer they shared and saw a bottle of brandy, a tube of lube, a handful of pixie sticks and two blunts of fine weed sealed up in plastic. Ramon giggled. This will be a pretty good night, he thought.
“There’s more,” Thumper said, leaping down to be right behind Ramon. He kissed him on the back of the neck, his dense beard, nearly two inches long now, scratching at Ramon’s smooth, pale skin. “I got a present fo’ ya, baby. But it’s a present you gotta keep secret.”
“Okay, sugar.”
Lights out in five minutes, shitheads!
The affection went away from his voice, and he gripped Ramon’s torso tightly. He hissed in Ramon’s ear. “I’m serious, man. If you evuh tell anyone, I will rip yo’ goddamn throat out. You will kill the love in my soul fo’ you, and there is only one way I can respond to that, okay?”
Ramon swallowed nervously, shivering as Thumper’s coarse beard caressed his neck. Thumper only called him man when he was very angry with him. Normally he called Ramon baby. Ramon leaned his head back to give Thumper better access to his neck, while Thumper’s roughly callused hands explored Ramon’s smooth body. Ramon said, “Okay, Thumper, I promise. I’ll never tell a soul. What is it? Someone must know you have it if they smuggled it in-“
“Ain’t a thing you can pick up and move around, baby. It weren’t somethin’ smuggled in, and I ain’t nevuh gonna let no one know about it, no how, no way. It’s just between you and me,” he said. He licked Ramon’s ear. “You get to be on top tonight, baby.”
At first Ramon didn’t know what he meant. Aside from some occasional drunken stroking (which he always vehemently denied the next day), Thumper never touched Ramon’s dick. He would have slapped Ramon senseless for even asking Thumper to bottom. He got mad once because he suspected Ramon was imagining Thumper swallowing his cum.
“Oh, really, sugar?! Are you serious?”
“I’m serious as strawberry pie, baby,” he said. He spun Ramon around and kissed him on the lips. In the cramped confines of the prison cell, Ramon accidentally touched the lit flame of one of the tea candles, and he squealed in pain.
“Lights going off in one minute, shitheads!”
They sunk down into the lower bunk, Ramon’s bunk, and Ramon tore off his own clothes, still sure Thumper didn’t mean what he seemed to mean. Ramon leaned back onto his mattress as Thumper kissed a trail down his slim, tender body, his massive head looming afronta Ramon, whose hands wandered over Thumper’s cornrows and his broad muscles. His kinky beard hairs dragged over Ramon’s belly as he moved lower and lower.
The lights in the hall flickered, then turned off, and the candles were the only light in the cell. Thumper growled with a mixture of both anticipation and disgust.
“I already smell santorum, damn, who started before the lights turned out? Huh? Mulch, is that you, nigga? How many inches you take already?”
“Fresh pussy! Fresh pussy!”
“Yeah I smell that shit too, someone is horny as hell tonight! Ram that ass hard, whoever that is!”
“Hey, all y’all shut up! Lights is out! Next person I hear callin’ out is sleepin’ in the guard shitter tonight!”
That brought silence at last, aside from some tittering laughter. There was probably no smell of santorum anywhere — Ramon couldn’t smell anything but the candles and the slightly stale, soap-scented sweat of Thumper’s shoulder, but the other inmates made similar claims every night. They just liked being loud and disruptive.
Alternatively, the Florida State Prison always smelled like santorum. Ramon was used to it. Certainly his and Thumper’s cell had a certain reek to it, mainly Thumper’s sweat from his relentless, continual workouts.
Thumper kissed Ramon’s dick, hesitated and took a deep breath, then swallowed it. A shiver of pleasure ran up Ramon’s spine, and Ramon sat up straight. Thumper gagged after the first few inches got in his mouth but kept going. His tongue tentatively slathered spit along the shaft.
Ramon’s dick rocketed to full erection in a few seconds, as he hadn’t topped since reporting to prison. He loved the feel of Thumper’s beard on his crotch. Ramon had always enjoyed it, but since Thumper didn’t usually kiss him on the lips and rarely even anywhere else, he didn’t often get to feel it touching him. Now he did, and its scratchy texture brought the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and his ballsack to life. Ramon quivered and shook beneath Thumper’s ministrations.
“Fuck you, nigga!”
“Hey! Get off me!”
“C’mon, nigga-“
“I’ll give you three packs-“
“I applied fo’ early release-“
“No way is that gonna happen.”
“Worth at least four packs.”
It felt like he was getting away with something. All these Bloods in the nearby cells, some of whom were literally a few feet from right here, none of them knew what Thumper and Ramon were doing. They’d be shocked and scandalized if they knew. It would ruin Thumper’s rep. Or maybe not, Bloods were weird about that stuff, but it would affect him greatly, and Ramon didn’t know how that would go. Thumper was risking a lot to show him this affection.
When the taste of precum hit him, Thumper wrinkled his nose but he didn’t stop. He was a big man with a big throat, so he easily deep-throated Ramon after a little practice. Ramon shaved his pubes, allowing Thumper’s wide, bullish nose to press into his nearly smooth crotch. The shaved skin smelled like a woman’s shaved crotch, Thumper thought, though he’d been in prison for thirty years at this point and had only a dim memory of what women tasted like.
In the dim flickering light of the candles, Ramon could only barely see Thumper, but for some reason that made the sight of his body even more arousing. His muscles writhed in the shadows, moving along with his head and throat. Ramon couldn’t tell if he was moving like that because he hated touching a dick so much he had to force his body to comply with his mind’s commands, or if he liked it so surprisingly that his entire body roiled with confusion.
“No curtains, gentlemen…”
That was aimed at Ramon and Thumper, but the guard who said it — the one they called Officer Uglymug — just continued by, not taking the curtain down. That was typical. They had never explained why, but Ramon suspected it was a way to cover their ass. They made a rule against curtains, occasionally reminded the inmates of it, and brought that up whenever they were sued for something that happened behind a curtain. They could pretend they had been getting rid of curtains as long as they occasionally brought it up. They wrote in their shift notes that they reminded the inmates of the no-curtains rule, which was all it took to stay out of trouble. So Ramon wasn’t worried, though Thumper lifted his head for a moment, waiting to see if this was the night they would begin enforcing the rule against curtains.
The guard simply moved on, however, and Thumper did likewise.
Then Thumper moved his head down, licking Ramon’s balls while pulling his legs up to get a better angle at it. He gurgled noisily with both balls in his mouth, sucking the sweat and the grime right off. He wrinkled his nose as he did, and as Ramon’s iron dick flopped against it, but he didn’t stop no matter how unappealing he plainly found this.
Ramon was crammed into a rather small bunk, and only the back half or so of it. He wasn’t a tall man. He had a small, slim, twinkish body, so he fit well enough, and he had gotten used to squeezing into cramped spaces while in prison. He was adequately flexible to get his legs all the way back, his feet near his own head, which bared his asshole as his cheeks were forced apart. His tongue plunged right into Ramon’s asshole. Ramon was astonished that Thumper would give him a rimjob, and he moaned. Thumper had been unsure about receiving a rimjob from Ramon, so the idea that he would allow the tables to be turned was mind-boggling.
“Hey Officer Uglymug, lemme see that picture o’ yo’ wife again, nigga! Can I get a copy of that?”
“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you! Some people is tryin-‘a sleep!”
Ramon’s fingers clutched the tight cornrows on Thumper’s head, watching his prison husband’s strapping body squeeze into the space between the bunk and the cell wall. There wasn’t much room there, but Thumper was used to fitting his broad shoulders and wide hips in this tiny cell. Ramon liked seeing him twisting and contorting, especially naked, with that limp cock dangling like a sausage. Thumper was much taller than Ramon, so he really had to struggle to get his head into Ramon’s ass, while Ramon was crammed into a tiny corner of the cell.
A few of the candles had blown out by now, and Ramon didn’t dare light them — they were moving around a lot, and they moved their bedsheets, the curtain and their clothes as they went, so the potential for a fire was great. The guards didn’t much care what happened behind the curtain, but a fire was one thing they very much would care about. Ramon turned on the little reading light he had, so he could still see Thumper’s muscles writhe as he licked Ramon’s ass.
His tongue was so hesitant and slow that it was, objectively speaking, not a very good rimjob. The positioning was awkward, and the tongue was unpracticed. But Ramon appreciated the sentiment, and when Thumper’s tongue did touch his prostate, the anticipation made the shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine even more intense, as did the scratchy feel of Thumper’s beard on Ramon’s ass.
“Gonna beat yo’ ass, nigga! Gonna beat it down to pulp!”
“Shut the fuck up, whiteboy!”
“Yo, hey! Lemme get a blunt!”
Thumper stood and grimaced. He forced a smile on his face, which was sweet — at least he was trying, Ramon thought. Then Thumper bent over on all fours. He grabbed the bottle of brandy and took a long swig from it. He sighed, and drank again.
“That’s sweet that you bought brandy,” Ramon said. “You remembered what I said…”
Thumper shrugged. He was defensive, like he was already embarrassed about getting plowed. “Whatevuh,” he said. “I like brandy too. I ain’t just buy it fo’ you.”
But Ramon knew that wasn’t entirely true. Thumper had only ever paid for smuggled vodka when Ramon moved in. To him, that seemed logical because it was the most alcoholic liquor — it made sense, he thought, to buy what contained the most drunkenness in the smallest container. But Ramon convinced him that was less reasonable than it seemed — brandy got you just as drunk, and it had a real flavor to it. Thumper had been in this place since he was nineteen, so he had very little experience with alcohol, a fact that he strenuously denied and that Ramon had only gradually realized was true. He might have never been seriously drunk before coming to Brutewood.
“It’s okay, sugar,” Ramon said. He kissed Thumper’s shoulderblades, one after the other. “I love your body, Thumper. You’re so big and strong, and you have the best dick in this prison. Maybe in the world.” He giggled. Thumper sighed and wiggled. Ramon’s tone was more patronizing than he meant — it was obvious that Ramon was saying that to puff up Thumper’s ego in advance of being penetrated. But Thumper didn’t mind that one bit, he often demanded Ramon do things just to puff up his ego. That was the main reason most men in prison kept a bitch, after all. they may express a ton of bluster about real men needing a hole in which to drain their balls, but Ramon knew that wasn’t the main purpose of it: it was to feel needed, wanted, even feared. He kissed Thumper’s asscheeks. “I’ll worship your ass later,” Ramon said. “So don’t worry if this hurts, sugar. Tomorrow, your ass is gonna feel so good you’ll forget this ever happened.”
“¡Siempre serás mi perra!” The catcalling and whooping from the other cells was beginning to die down, as a few people went to sleep and others got distracted reading, shooting heroin or perhaps ramrodding much like Ramon and Thumper were doing at this very moment.
Ramon lubed up his dick and wedged it between Thumper’s ass. He slowly pushed it in, pausing only briefly when he hit resistance. Thumper yelped and bit his lip. He kept his head down. Ramon pushed the tip of his cock in, and he held it in place.
“Is this okay?”
“It’s fine,” Thumper said, his voice breathless and trembling. Despite his words, it didn’t really sound entirely fine. He strained to take Ramon’s dick in his intact hole.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, sugar,” Ramon said. He kissed Thumper’s back again. “This is so sweet of you. You’re such a darling. This is the most perfect anniversary present ever.”
His whole body shook as Ramon squeezed a few more inches in. Thumper grunted. He arched his back and pawed at the ground, tattooed muscles rippling. He was nearly hyperventilating now, but he tried to keep it quiet as though if he didn’t acknowledge it, he wouldn’t feel shame.
“Damn, that hurts…” Thumper said, but there was some faint tenor in his voice that made Ramon think it wasn’t all pain. there was a thin, vibrating note of pleasure there. Ramon made sure to hit the man’s prostate to accentuate the orgasmic feelings deep within Thumper’s thuggish muscles.
“If you don’t shut that goddamn facehole right now, I am gonna sew it shut, bitch!”
“I’m sorry, sugar, it’ll start feeling better,” Ramon said, hoping that was true. He didn’t want Thumper to back out. He continued driving his dick in and out, smiling as he saw Thumper’s back move from pained writhing to pleasurable contortions. Thumper’s gasps of pain turned to petite moans of pleasure.
Luckily his ass started to open up a bit, which made Ramon’s dick slide more easily in and out. He had a nice broad, plump ass that Ramon wanted to smack, but he thought that might make it hurt worse, so he didn’t. He gently and affectionately caressed Thumper’s back and his meaty asscheeks, while Thumper’s moans turned louder and deeper.
His orgasm built slowly, but as he pumped and he felt it coming on, he sped up rapidly like a speeding train. Ecstasy erupted in Ramon, mounting with each thrust of his hips at Thumper’s body. He could barely reach Thumper’s shoulders because he was so much shorter, so he gripped both big corded shoulder blades.
“Here it comes, sweetheart,” Ramon said as softly as he could. He kissed Thumper’s back again. “I hope this don’t hurt too much, sugar…”
“No, not too much. I wanna feel your cum inside me,” Thumper said, then he winced as though he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
They both grunted together as Ramon shot his load. He had a feminine squeal to the sound, as pleasure washed up his spine, and his dick spasmed within Thumper’s back. Ramon moaned so loud the nearby cells erupted in laughter and catcalls. A fat wad of jizz spurted into Thumper, a long creamy wave of it that seeped into his guts.
“Wreck that bitch, Thumper! Wreck him!”
“He’s yo’ wife, you ain’t gotta make him feel good! If he still moanin’ like that, it means you ain’t been rammin’ him hard enough.”
That seemed to last forever. Bliss coursed through both men’s veins, and both of them came — Thumper needed only briefly handle his cock to reach his own climax, just as Ramon was shooting the last of his jizz in Thumper’s ass. Thumper sprayed his wad onto the floor, a fat flow of it that came out in spurts and jets.
When at last both men were good and limp, Ramon pulled out and sat back. He sighed. Thumper curled up next to him, and they spooned, Ramon being the outer spoon for the first time in more than two years. Thumper’s body was stiff at first, but he soon relaxed now that he knew he wasn’t going to be caught. He ignored the hooting from the cells next door, and he kissed Ramon on the lips. Ramon exulted in the taste of his own cock and ass on Thumper’s mouth.
“Thanks, sugar, that was special,” Ramon said softly, nibbling on Thumper’s ear. “And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”