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The cell was crowded with men and stank of manhood — not just the b.o. of Buck and the other enforcers, whose bump-outs, push-ups and burpees cast a scent of zesty sweat, but also the liniment of Ripley and the other old fellers, the stale air and stacks of mildewed clothes, soaked-in cigarette smoke, caked-on mud, spit-soaked concrete and pissy stainless steel, cold, stretched sacs of canned sardines for free weights, it all combined to make for the grungy-dumpy odor of prison life.
Ripley done sprawl out on his back. Cody gotta squeeze in next to him, between Ripley’s side and the edge of the bunk. The cot was sposedta be for two men, but it weren’t huge and Ripley weren’t trying-a make it work. The sheet was thin and grungy, and the blanket they shared was scratchy. It all stank awful of Ripley’s old-man armpits and the noxious liniment he done rub into his knees. Cody gotta wedge in on the edge, and Ripley put one heavy hand on Cody’s chest under the sheet.
He woke up to Ripley’s hands on him. His fingers was rough and callused, but they caressed him gentle-like. Ripley’s right hand stroked Cody’s bruised side, running from his ribs down to his ass. Cody tensed up. Ripley curled his broad body around Cody. The sound of cellbodies snoring and tossing to and fro on they bunks filled the air, muffled by the sheet hung up as a curtain around Ripley and Cody’s bunk.

From Bunkmates in the Dark

Arthur sighed and nodded. He put down the weights and stood up, then took off his sweatshirt, even though the gym was cold now that it was empty. His chowder white chest was pale, and goosebumps dappled his arms. He flexed his pecs and abs.
Buck punched Arthur in the gut. Not that hard the first time, but hard nuff to make Arthur’s chest ripple.
“You okay?”
Arthur nodded. “I’m fine — I can fight, Buck. I can. Them glasses woulda-” He oomphed as Buck’s fist collided with his belly once more. “They woulda got broke if I fought that man too.”
“Uh-huh,” Buck said. Again, again and again, Buck punched him in the stomach. Then Buck paused to make sh’ore Arthur weren’t plussing. Arthur stayed still with his arms flexed, hands gripping each other behind his back. Arthur’s face was tense, his perfect six-pack ruddying up with each smack.
Arthur bit back a grunt. He stonefaced, as punch after punch landed upon his gut. Ruddy skin and blooming bruises spread o’er his midsection.
“A’ight, you done good,” Buck said when his shoulders begun to weary.
Then when Arthur took a breath and relaxed, Buck let loose as hard as he could, driving a fat fist into Arthur’s flat belly. Arthur oomphed that one down and doubled o’er, but he took it okay. Buck laughed, patted him on the back with one hand and twisted his nipple with t’other.

From Fists, Men and Muscles

“Holy shit, dude, what happened?” Buck said, looking at Nathan.
“What?” Nathan said. Then he realized Buck was looking at his cock. Nathan blushed and covered his crotch with both hands.
“Are you a girl?” Buck asked, furrowing his brow. He touched Nathan’s chest, looking, perhaps, for invisible breasts.
“No! I’m a boy… a man, I mean,” Nathan said. “It’s just… small.”
“Wait, what?” Buck swiped Nathan’s hands away. He didn’t seem to have any compunctions about bending over to examine Nathan’s cock more closely, even in the crowded shower. Buck even gingerly touched it, and it twitched. “Holy fuck, dude, that is a tiny cock. Was it like… an accident?”
“What?”
“I mean… did you lose it in an accident or something?”
“No, that’s just… It’s fine. My doctor says it’s fine,” Nathan said. He covered his crotch again.

From The Redneck Ex-Con

Buck and that white guy kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t pay attention to their words. There were so many men around, and so much to see. Teddy would have been terrified if he was alone — that was why he showered by himself in his own building, which was not as trashy as Smashwood.
Two naked men were beating up a third in one corner, their cocks flopping about. Nobody even watched as though that was normal. Teddy kept an eye out for cocks as big as Buck’s, but didn’t see any. A lot of them were big though, bigger than Teddy for sure and bigger than most men.
Two black guys in the changing area were jacking off! Teddy craned his head to watch, hoping nobody realized what he was looking at. The black men were crowded around something, presumably a magazine, and they kept aiming their dicks at each other. They were laughing, teasing each other — trying to jab their cocks into each other’s ballsacs hard enough to hurt, it seemed. Teddy wondered if he could go over there and join in.
Before he could ask Buck though, some other guy, a ropy-muscled middle-aged man with a balding head and wrinkled muscles, shouted something incomprehensible at the opening into the showering area that Teddy, Buck and the other white guy were in. The balding man leaned back a little, aiming his cock into the showering area and slightly upward, so that when he started pissing, he got a big arc.
And he was spraying his piss over all of the men in the shower. There was a torrent of laughter and shouting, and one man advanced on him as though to fight, only to get a huge spray of piss all over his chest and dangling dick.
From Aroused by Ex-Cons

The shower at New Jersey State was officially a twelve-man space, one showerhead spraying in a complete circle. But they put the whole cell — around fifty men — in at once. It was asses to elbows in there. You couldn’t help but appreciate the male form, or at least Desmond couldn’t.
It was so crowded that they had to jostle for space in the water. Mostly guys stayed outta the spray as they soaped up, then crowded in to rinse off the best they could. Wasn’t much point in going fast either, cuz the guards left the whole cell in there for a half-hour. You gotta wait till everyone was done.
Buncha the old-timers jacked off in the showers. They said it was to avoid getting cum everywhere in the cell. Nobody treated it like a big deal in the shower.
What happens in the shower stays in the shower.

From Desmond Seeks Alphas

Finally they went out to the showers, their pace quickening as soon as they left their heated home and ventured out into the unheated corridor. Their sandaled feet clopped loudly on the cold steel floor.
It was cold enough to take Buck’s breath away, the exhilaration waking him up like the opposite of a hot cup of coffee. It felt good, his chest literally steaming because he had been so hot on the other side of their makeshift blanket wall and now the air out in the corridor was around the freezing point. Pinpoints of ice prickled the tips of his chest hair. He wore only his briefs and his shower sandals, so his skin ruddened and tingled.
Lem hot-tailed it into the bathroom, and Buck arrived more slowly after. They were glad to see they had the whole space for themselves. Most roughnecks showered in little nationality groupings, and Buck and Lem were the only two Americans.
The rig shower looked trashy — it was trashy — because it was rarely cleaned. It smelled strongly of feet. A garbage can overflowing with soap boxes, shampoo bottles and abandoned underwear sat in one corner of the showering area.
But there was something cozy about it, Buck thought. It was warm and inviting, and it felt like a sauna in here. People had hung towels up, some of them apparently having been left for years because they were abandoned and never cleaned up — you could tell because there was algae growing on them. In a few places, there were cracks in the walls, filled with makeshift rags and remnants of old life preservers as insulation.
He immediately took off his sandals and briefs, and he sat on the bench in the center of the locker area. Lem undressed more slowly, as he continued a long story that had begun before they entered the corridor.
“So I tolds the cops that that nigga was my daddy, he ain’t sayin’ I took his car — I was r’trievin’ his car from them othuh nigguhs I don’t know,” Lem said. “And the white fellah, he says he believe me but he still gettin’ his taser out and shit, and he lookin’ at me like he ain’t believe me. The other po-liceman, he a nigga — he a redbone nigga, you know ’bout them right? He redbone as fuck, nigga, lookin’ like a crayon and shit.” He wasn’t even undressing anymore. Lem had gotten down to his drawers and shirt, but he didn’t want to take his shirt off because he would have to lift it over his head and that would break eye contact with Buck and interrupt his story. He paused with his shirt half up, baring his ropy chest. “He say outright he ain’t believe me. Black cops is the worst, lemme tell you-“
“Yeah,” Buck said. “Black cops is a buncha shitheads-” He hung his head and sighed because Lem was on a tear and not listening to him.
“I was like, you ain’t gotta tase a brother just cuz you ain’t call the man who reported his car missin’,” Lem said. “My pops’ll say I gots permissy-on to come get it. Them nigguhs who took it ain’t even try to stop me, on account of they know I’ll pop ’em off in a heartbeat.” He stopped suddenly because someone walked in.

From Buck the Roughneck

“Yo, nigga, what the fuck?!” Lem said. He turned to Buck. “Yo, Buck, you see that?”
“Nah, ya bony asshole was in my way,” Buck said. “What happened?”
Lem darted to where Kareem shivered and stood, his hands at his sides as he was doubled over and gasping, shivering violently. His light brown body gleamed with ice-cold shower water. He faced the wall, so all Lem and Buck could see was his smooth buttcheeks. He didn’t see Lem come up behind him and twirl him around so his back was to the wall. “Yo, nigga, Kareem, what’s up wit’cha dick?”
Kareem blushed and tried to cover himself again with both hands, but he was shivering so bad it hurt, and his teeth chattered so hard he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stand still. Lem batted his hands away. Buck burst into uproarious laughter when he saw.
There was no penis.
Or maybe there was? Buck didn’t see it at all at first, then stepped closer.
Yep, it was a micropenis. It was a a fleck of flesh. “Yo, buddy, you — you just cold, right?” Buck furrowed his brow. “He prolly just cold, Lem.”
“It’s fine, it’s…” Kareem took a deep breath. He couldn’t get warm, and he felt like he was getting colder even though he was out of the water. The whole showering area was freezing quickly because of all the cold water. Lem and Buck weren’t worried because it would be like a sauna when the hot water turned on imminently.
“That ain’t normal shrinkage,” Lem said. He went to the shower and jutted his crotch into the water. He had a serious look on his face until he touched the water, then he laughed and howled. Even knowing the cold water was coming, he still was shocked by the iciness of it, and he danced in place. He showed his dong off to Buck. “See? It only shrink a little.” He pointed to Kareem. “He got little-boy dick. How old is you?”
“I’m eighteen!” Kareem said. “It’s normal! My doctor says it’s fine.” His cheeks were bright red.
“That ain’t fine,” Buck said. “You can’t even get that in a pussy, you know. Ya dick is littler than pussy lips.” He got closer to Kareem and slapped his hand out of the way.
Kareem’s weiner was fingernail-length, and his balls were shrunken — that was indeed just shrinkage from the shower water, as Kareem’s balls were normal-sized. He panted and jumped up and down, still freezing from the water evaporating off his skin. The floor felt like ice.
“Hhhhhnnnnn!” Kareem tried to both warm up and cover his crotch, but Buck kept slapping his hand away.
“I think he might be one of them hermaphorodities,” Lem said. He got up real close to Kareem and cupped his balls and dick in one hand. “Like that ain’t a dick, it’s a clit. He got balls in place of a actual pussy.”
“Really?” Buck said.
“No!”
“Is that a thing?” Buck came closer too, and he even got on his knees to inspect Kareem’s dick more closely.
“No!”
“Yeah-huh, I seen a article ’bout it,” Lem said. The showering area was beginning to fill with steam as the water turned warm finally. “Hey, you you got a pussy I can fuck?”
Kareem tried to get away but slipped and landed on the floor on his ass. Before he knew it, he was pinned by Lem’s knees, and Lem’s big black dick was in his face. “Get off me!”

From Buck the Roughneck

Most nights, Buck and Lem showered with each other. This was the winter contract, which was understaffed — more than half of the roughnecks here a couple days ago had left during their leave. Buck didn’t realize how many fewer workers there would be. That was because, Lem explained, the rig was less efficient in the winter, and Mr. Chow actually lost money pumping oil until it warmed up. He kept it going regardless because otherwise the rig would fall apart and be inoperable in the spring, but it continued with a skeleton crew mainly tasked with maintenance. The drill did run, and oil was pumped, but only the minimum needed every day to ensure smooth operation.
Otherwise it was a lot of cleaning, inventory, weatherproofing, organizing, etc. It was intensely boring and not much work. The chill was intense in the unheated corridors now that it was winter. Buck got a thrill out of walking to the shower every night, which he still did in his briefs and sandals (though he now wore his sandals with two pairs of socks). He thought it was hilarious how steamy his chest was, and it set his heart racing. Most night it was literally cold enough to take his breath away, and he could barely breathe the whole way to and from the shower.
Lem did not do that. He was leaner and lankier than Buck, and like the other roughnecks, Lem wore several layers of clothes in the corridors. So Buck got naked in the showers in seconds, while Lem lazily undressed and smoked a cigarette (which he did only to annoy Buck, because Buck kept hassling him about hurrying up).

From Buck the Roughneck

“Yo, nigga, what the fuck?!” Lem said. He turned to Buck. “Yo, Buck, you see that?”
“Nah, ya bony asshole was in my way,” Buck said. “What happened?”
Lem darted to where Kareem shivered and stood, his hands at his sides as he was doubled over and gasping, shivering violently. His light brown body gleamed with ice-cold shower water. He faced the wall, so all Lem and Buck could see was his smooth buttcheeks. He didn’t see Lem come up behind him and twirl him around so his back was to the wall. “Yo, nigga, Kareem, what’s up wit’cha dick?”
Kareem blushed and tried to cover himself again with both hands, but he was shivering so bad it hurt, and his teeth chattered so hard he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stand still. Lem batted his hands away. Buck burst into uproarious laughter when he saw.
There was no penis.
Or maybe there was? Buck didn’t see it at all at first, then stepped closer.
Yep, it was a micropenis. It was a a fleck of flesh. “Yo, buddy, you — you just cold, right?” Buck furrowed his brow. “He prolly just cold, Lem.”
“It’s fine, it’s…” Kareem took a deep breath. He couldn’t get warm, and he felt like he was getting colder even though he was out of the water. The whole showering area was freezing quickly because of all the cold water. Lem and Buck weren’t worried because it would be like a sauna when the hot water turned on imminently.
“That ain’t normal shrinkage,” Lem said. He went to the shower and jutted his crotch into the water. He had a serious look on his face until he touched the water, then he laughed and howled. Even knowing the cold water was coming, he still was shocked by the iciness of it, and he danced in place. He showed his dong off to Buck. “See? It only shrink a little.” He pointed to Kareem. “He got little-boy dick. How old is you?”
“I’m eighteen!” Kareem said. “It’s normal! My doctor says it’s fine.” His cheeks were bright red.
“That ain’t fine,” Buck said. “You can’t even get that in a pussy, you know. Ya dick is littler than pussy lips.” He got closer to Kareem and slapped his hand out of the way.
Kareem’s weiner was fingernail-length, and his balls were shrunken — that was indeed just shrinkage from the shower water, as Kareem’s balls were normal-sized. He panted and jumped up and down, still freezing from the water evaporating off his skin. The floor felt like ice.
“Hhhhhnnnnn!” Kareem tried to both warm up and cover his crotch, but Buck kept slapping his hand away.
“I think he might be one of them hermaphorodities,” Lem said. He got up real close to Kareem and cupped his balls and dick in one hand. “Like that ain’t a dick, it’s a clit. He got balls in place of a actual pussy.”
“Really?” Buck said.
“No!”
“Is that a thing?” Buck came closer too, and he even got on his knees to inspect Kareem’s dick more closely.
“No!”
“Yeah-huh, I seen a article ’bout it,” Lem said. The showering area was beginning to fill with steam as the water turned warm finally. “Hey, you you got a pussy I can fuck?”
Kareem tried to get away but slipped and landed on the floor on his ass. Before he knew it, he was pinned by Lem’s knees, and Lem’s big black dick was in his face. “Get off me!”

From Buck the Roughneck

“Holy shit, dude, what happened?” Buck said, looking at Nathan.
“What?” Nathan said. Then he realized Buck was looking at his cock. Nathan blushed and covered his crotch with both hands.
“Are you a girl?” Buck asked, furrowing his brow. He touched Nathan’s chest, looking, perhaps, for invisible breasts.
“No! I’m a boy… a man, I mean,” Nathan said. “It’s just… small.”
“Wait, what?” Buck swiped Nathan’s hands away. He didn’t seem to have any compunctions about bending over to examine Nathan’s cock more closely, even in the crowded shower. Buck even gingerly touched it, and it twitched. “Holy fuck, dude, that is a tiny cock. Was it like… an accident?”
“What?”
“I mean… did you lose it in an accident or something?”
“No, that’s just… It’s fine. My doctor says it’s fine,” Nathan said. He covered his crotch again.

From The Redneck Ex-Con

He bristled and shifted his weight on his feet. “Now it so happens I was gonna spit on yer face. Not cuz you axt me to though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get on your knees and open your mouth,” he said. He hocked up a loogie, then displayed his rancid mouth full of saliva and phlegm. He hocked again as Rob sunk to his weak knees. He was excited, giddy even, to be doing this — it had been awhile since he bagged a redneck trucker. He opened his mouth and aimed it upward. The trucker formed a kissy face, then let his mouthful of fluids slop out. It plopped moistly into Rob’s mouth, some of it landing on his lower lip. “No swallowin’, bitch.”
The trucker watched Rob squirm with his arms crossed over his chest. He inserted his middle finger back into Rob’s mouth, making him gag this time as he smeared his own spit all over Rob’s tongue. It was foul, fetid, rancid, but it made Rob’s dick so hard he thought it might explode.
“Beg me to let you swallow it.”
“Pleashe? I want your filshe in muh belluh,” Rob said the best he could with a mouth full of moisture. Some of it spilled out onto his cheeks.
The trucker spat again, this time aiming it right for Rob’s nose. It plopped there, sending a fresh wave of that musky scent into Rob’s nostrils. Rob pulled his cock out of his jeans. The trucker glanced at it and scrunched up his nose as though he was going to make Rob stop masturbating, then didn’t.
“You may swallow.”
Rob smacked his lips and let that big ball of fluids flow down his throat. He gurgled as it settled in his belly, warm and moist and a bit nauseating, but he loved it just the same.

From The Trucker

“Why don’t you go ahead and undress, big man? Lemme see what you’re working with,” Annie said with a blush and a giggle. Buck tore his clothes off, and his giant manhood unfurled. Annie stopped giggling, and she let out a groan of excitement. “Ooh, that’s nice and hefty.” She took a deep drink from her cup of creme de menthe.
“He heavy as hell, baby,” Lem said. “He’ll crush you. Lemme go first. I ain’t gonna break you apart.”
“Neither will I! I is real gentle, ma’am,” Buck said. He bent over and plowed his massive tongue all the way into her pussy. Lem dropped his briefs and raced to thwack his dick on Buck’s tongue, leaving a layer of precum dripping from his lip to her clit. “Get off me, Lem, that’s gross!”
“No fighting, boys,” Annie said. She let out a well-rehearsed moan, then patted Buck on the mullet. His hair was wet and smelled like the brothel’s shampoo. He looked up, face and beard moist with her pussyjuice, tongue still lapping at her womanhood. “C’mon up here, Buck, lemme see your dick.”

From Buck the Roughneck

Benji and Dwight both groaned and sighed. Dwight’s turn was next, so after taking a deep steam-filled breath, he said, “Dare.”
Marshall smiled. “Put your face in Benji’s armpit for a full minute.” He was gonna add ‘without puking’, but Benji cackled in his big-ass baritone way, and Dwight groaned. Benji was big and hairy for a twenty-year-old, which was cuz he was part-Egyptian, supposedly, that was what Marshall heard. His chest was coated in black fur, and his ass and the small of his back and his arms and thighs and even his shoulders were hairy too. His armpits made him look like he was smuggling skunks.
To his credit, Dwight did it, and Marshall ain’t even gotta make him — as a team captain, he had the right to do that. A man’s gotta do what he’s committed to, even if it’s just a game of truth or dare. Dwight rammed his face into Benji’s sweat-silkened armpit hair, and a ferocious retch came outta him.
“Ooh-“
“Don’t pull away, don’t pull away. One. Two. Three.” Marshall stopped counting cuz he laughed at the frenzied wriggling of Dwight.
“Ewww — ihh — ell — ell — eye — -iiiiiht!” That last word was ‘shit’, for sure, but neither them caught the resta what Dwight said. Salty sweat trickled into Dwight’s mouth, and he gagged again.
There was no clock in there — and this was decades before cell phones, mind you — clocks was still expensive then — so Marshall had no way of measuring a full minute. He laughed too hard to count off. In any case, it wasn’t manly to niggle, so he didn’t complain when Dwight pulled off and spat up like a cat with a hairball, even though it was probably less than a full minute.
In any case, before Dwight had even stopped gagging, Benji grinned and tousled Dwight’s hair. He said, “Dare.”
“Ewhck, man, ewhck,” Dwight said. He picked an armpit hair outta his mouth. “You are so nasty, Benji.”
Benji’s big round cheeks blushed. He shrugged. “It was Marshall’s dare.” Then Benji repeated himself. “I said dare, c’mon, Dwight.”
Dwight had to regain his composure still. He wiped sweat off with both hands, not that it had much effect — Dwight’s hands were sweaty too. Everything in here was sweaty. Dwight looked at Marshall, who sat there with his cock sticking to his thighs. Dwight grinned.
From Marshall the Coach

“Why don’t you go ahead and undress, big man? Lemme see what you’re working with,” Annie said with a blush and a giggle. Buck tore his clothes off, and his giant manhood unfurled. Annie stopped giggling, and she let out a groan of excitement. “Ooh, that’s nice and hefty.” She took a deep drink from her cup of creme de menthe.
“He heavy as hell, baby,” Lem said. “He’ll crush you. Lemme go first. I ain’t gonna break you apart.”
“Neither will I! I is real gentle, ma’am,” Buck said. He bent over and plowed his massive tongue all the way into her pussy. Lem dropped his briefs and raced to thwack his dick on Buck’s tongue, leaving a layer of precum dripping from his lip to her clit. “Get off me, Lem, that’s gross!”
“No fighting, boys,” Annie said. She let out a well-rehearsed moan, then patted Buck on the mullet. His hair was wet and smelled like the brothel’s shampoo. He looked up, face and beard moist with her pussyjuice, tongue still lapping at her womanhood. “C’mon up here, Buck, lemme see your dick.”

From Buck the Roughneck

Dale and Poahi wore their togs under trousers, and Poahi wore leggings below that. They came to the beach in big puffy coats. It was, of course, deserted. Wind-swept waves battered the beach, and the sun beat down on the sand, adding bright light but not a mote of heat.
They brought tarps too. So did Keith and the other dudes in the 504 Crew. They arranged the tarps over the top and openings of the showerhouse on the beach, then they put lawnchairs in, turned on the hot water and rolled some joints. Heat from the hot water was trapped in the showers by the tarps. The heat reacted with the cold to create a billowing cloud of steam that stayed beneath the tarps.
So that was the annual beach sauna tradition. They sat in the heat, drank beer from an ice-filled cooler and smoked joints, had a real-man korero and, eventually, if they got drunk enough, they’d go for a brief swim before scurrying back into the warm sauna.
That was a tradition Poahi loved. He wished the others would quiet — it seemed meditative, Poahi thought. It should be meditative. The steam was relaxing. If this were a Maori tradition, it would have a spiritual side. People would be silent mostly, interrupting it with an occasional waiata. But Americans do not have a spiritual side, and they simply chatted and drank beer and dared each other to enter the freezing cold ocean.

From Poahi the Lackey

So he thought he was well-suited to win Boner Loses. That was a game wherein the player (Willie) stood still while another player (usually someone who had lost a bet, in this case Haruto Amasuzi) had to put his dick in his mouth.
“Do it!”
“Oh, nasty, he’s really doing it!”
“You can lick it if you want, Haruto!”
Haruto just kneeled and winced and gagged before letting Willie’s limp dick flop onto his tongue. Haruto gagged again as he felt wiry pubic hair rub against his cheek and his tongue.
The object of the game was not to get hard. If Willie got an erection, he was required to lick Haruto’s dick. That was it, that was the whole game, just don’t get a boner. When the older cadets had first explained it to Willie, he thought it was beyond stupid. He thought no one would ever play that “game”.

From Boot Camp

Lem been suggesting they ‘trade off’ — that meant they both slurp upon each other’s knobs. It sounded narsty to Buck. He’d rather jack his own self off. Buck done made it clear he don’t admire to do that. He don’t wanna taste Lem’s old-homeboy dick. Lem steady went on ’bout it, slapping his limpness ‘tween his ropy thighs.
Supposably, black boys be doing it in prison.
“T’ain’t no thang, Buckums! You just gotsta focus on yo’ own meat steada yo’ mouf! You eat pussy! Ain’t no d’rent dan eatin’ pussy!” Lem don’t eat pussy. He do say it demeans a nigga. Buck’ll lick a female, no problem. Buck got no compinktions ’bout a pussy.
If’n Lem gets drunk ’nuff, he will lick a bitch’s asshole. Buck don’t get that, but he don’t question the ways of crazy old black men. It’s a personal rule, and it do serve him well.
As Lem went on and on like some crackhead’s crackhead uncle, Buck began his workout. He did push-ups, counting hisself off, and his broad shoulders sweated out, wafting his manhood into they dead-end. Eventually he dropped off his jeans and continued his push-ups in his drawers. He weared tight-whites, his asshair peeking round the frayed edges. The fabric was soaked up by the small of his back and his taint, wet ’nuff to be transparent.
“You stink, hillbilly,” Lem said with a harsh-eyed glare when Buck done finisht his push-ups. Buck ain’t respond. He just rested upon his belly ’til he was ready, then he rolled o’er onto his back, his drawers’s poucha fat balls jiggling to a rest ‘tween his legs. Lem put out a frown. “Sweaty whiteboys smell like a closet of ham.”

From Buck on Bottom

“Yo, nigga, what the fuck?!” Lem said. He turned to Buck. “Yo, Buck, you see that?”
“Nah, ya bony asshole was in my way,” Buck said. “What happened?”
Lem darted to where Kareem shivered and stood, his hands at his sides as he was doubled over and gasping, shivering violently. His light brown body gleamed with ice-cold shower water. He faced the wall, so all Lem and Buck could see was his smooth buttcheeks. He didn’t see Lem come up behind him and twirl him around so his back was to the wall. “Yo, nigga, Kareem, what’s up wit’cha dick?”
Kareem blushed and tried to cover himself again with both hands, but he was shivering so bad it hurt, and his teeth chattered so hard he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stand still. Lem batted his hands away. Buck burst into uproarious laughter when he saw.
There was no penis.
Or maybe there was? Buck didn’t see it at all at first, then stepped closer.
Yep, it was a micropenis. It was a a fleck of flesh. “Yo, buddy, you — you just cold, right?” Buck furrowed his brow. “He prolly just cold, Lem.”
“It’s fine, it’s…” Kareem took a deep breath. He couldn’t get warm, and he felt like he was getting colder even though he was out of the water. The whole showering area was freezing quickly because of all the cold water. Lem and Buck weren’t worried because it would be like a sauna when the hot water turned on imminently.
“That ain’t normal shrinkage,” Lem said. He went to the shower and jutted his crotch into the water. He had a serious look on his face until he touched the water, then he laughed and howled. Even knowing the cold water was coming, he still was shocked by the iciness of it, and he danced in place. He showed his dong off to Buck. “See? It only shrink a little.” He pointed to Kareem. “He got little-boy dick. How old is you?”
“I’m eighteen!” Kareem said. “It’s normal! My doctor says it’s fine.” His cheeks were bright red.
“That ain’t fine,” Buck said. “You can’t even get that in a pussy, you know. Ya dick is littler than pussy lips.” He got closer to Kareem and slapped his hand out of the way.
Kareem’s weiner was fingernail-length, and his balls were shrunken — that was indeed just shrinkage from the shower water, as Kareem’s balls were normal-sized. He panted and jumped up and down, still freezing from the water evaporating off his skin. The floor felt like ice.
“Hhhhhnnnnn!” Kareem tried to both warm up and cover his crotch, but Buck kept slapping his hand away.
“I think he might be one of them hermaphorodities,” Lem said. He got up real close to Kareem and cupped his balls and dick in one hand. “Like that ain’t a dick, it’s a clit. He got balls in place of a actual pussy.”
“Really?” Buck said.
“No!”
“Is that a thing?” Buck came closer too, and he even got on his knees to inspect Kareem’s dick more closely.
“No!”
“Yeah-huh, I seen a article ’bout it,” Lem said. The showering area was beginning to fill with steam as the water turned warm finally. “Hey, you you got a pussy I can fuck?”
Kareem tried to get away but slipped and landed on the floor on his ass. Before he knew it, he was pinned by Lem’s knees, and Lem’s big black dick was in his face. “Get off me!”

From Buck the Roughneck

“Lost it, Buck, got’cha,” said Jermaine. He was a muscle-bound homeboy, t’other muscle-man in the cell with Buck — the two them worked out loads. He been counting off Buck’s push-ups, and when Buck laughed, his push-ups missed the beat. Buck skipped one.
That meant Buck lost the game him and Jermaine played. One counted off, t’other did his workout. Whoever lost the rhythm lost the game. T’other could make him lose the beat by teasing, light punching, snubbing cigarettes out upon his back, that kinda thang. Punishment fer losing was nuttin’ really, sometimes teasing, light punches, snubbing cigarettes out upon the loser’s back, that kinda thang.
T’weren’t muchuva game.
Jermaine kicked Buck hard in the side, and Buck yelped. Then he stood up and scowled at Jermaine — the resta the cell was still laughing at Reggie Winner. “That don’t count, Jermaine. Li’l one distracted me-” He motioned to Reggie Winner, who be laughing and carrying on like a silly sally.
Or like a pengwin, they’s funny! Reggie Winner was funning up like a pengwin!
But his funning up was in t’other corner of the cell. Buck and Jermaine was sposedta focus on they push-ups.
With a shrug, Jermaine said, “You lost the beat. That’s the game, Buck.” He puffed upon his cigarette, then made liketa gutpunch Buck, and when Buck blistered and feinted, Jermaine snubbed his cigarette out on Buck’s bicep instead. “Got’cha-“
“Damn!” Buck yelp-laughed and grabbed fer Jermaine, who danced away.

From Fists, Men and Muscles

“This is my space too!” Lem said. “I don’t wanna live in ya pigsty!” He licked his teeth as Buck resumed doing pullups. “Don’t get all sweaty neithuh. You stink at night.”
“You stink at night! You smell like asphalt, old man,” Buck said with a grin. He was getting good at these pullups. It was more like a gymnast on the parallel bars than a traditional pullup, and he could feel it working his shoulders and his thighs real good. “Asphalt and menthol cigarettes. Why you smoke menthols anyway? Taste like toothpaste.” He did another pullup, angling his hairy feet towards Lem, who dodged them and took a drag on his cigarette.
“Bullshit! You a redneck hillbilly mothahfuckah! You got so much hair! Why can’t you shave nothing?”
“Just makes it grow back thicker,” Buck said. His biceps strained to keep him parallel to the ceiling, his feet now above Lem’s head. Buck placed one foot on Lem’s cornrows. His scalp was palpable and smooth beneath the coarse rows of silver-and-black hair. “Old black men with cornrows look ridiculous, Lem, you know that, right?”
“Shut the fuck up. What do you know about black hair?” Lem glared at the foot resting on his scalp, but he didn’t push it off. Buck’s balls dangled between his legs in front of Lem’s face.
“I know it ain’t nevuh been cool to got cornrows lookin’ like graverows. Ya scalp look like the cemetery you ’bout to move into, Lem-” He put both feet on Lem’s shoulders.
With both of Buck’s feet on his shoulders, his cock and balls were right in front of Lem’s face. Lem didn’t complain because Buck’s heavy feet weighed him down, and he didn’t want to look like he was unable to handle that. “I ain’t — ain’t nothin’ wrong with cornrows on a man who got some years — I ain’t gotta justify myself to some knuckle-headed honky who look like he too trashy for the trailer park.”
“What’s that mean? I am from a trailer park-“
“Figures. Ain’t nothin’ worse than white trash-” Lem stopped because Buck had used his feet on Lem’s shoulders to pull him closer. Still dangling from the pull-up bar, Buck had his ankles on Lem’s shoulders, holding him in place as Buck humped the air to make his dick flop forward — he was trying to slap Lem on the head with his dong. Lem still didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of complaining about the weight on his shoulders.
“What’s so bad about trailer parks? I like mine. It’s called Smashwood,” Buck said. He got enough momentum to angle his body and angle Lem’s too, a little closer, and that was enough for his fatty pecker to land on Lem’s forehead.

From Buck the Roughneck

Buck and that white guy kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t pay attention to their words. There were so many men around, and so much to see. Teddy would have been terrified if he was alone — that was why he showered by himself in his own building, which was not as trashy as Smashwood.
Two naked men were beating up a third in one corner, their cocks flopping about. Nobody even watched as though that was normal. Teddy kept an eye out for cocks as big as Buck’s, but didn’t see any. A lot of them were big though, bigger than Teddy for sure and bigger than most men.
Two black guys in the changing area were jacking off! Teddy craned his head to watch, hoping nobody realized what he was looking at. The black men were crowded around something, presumably a magazine, and they kept aiming their dicks at each other. They were laughing, teasing each other — trying to jab their cocks into each other’s ballsacs hard enough to hurt, it seemed. Teddy wondered if he could go over there and join in.
Before he could ask Buck though, some other guy, a ropy-muscled middle-aged man with a balding head and wrinkled muscles, shouted something incomprehensible at the opening into the showering area that Teddy, Buck and the other white guy were in. The balding man leaned back a little, aiming his cock into the showering area and slightly upward, so that when he started pissing, he got a big arc.
And he was spraying his piss over all of the men in the shower. There was a torrent of laughter and shouting, and one man advanced on him as though to fight, only to get a huge spray of piss all over his chest and dangling dick.
From Aroused by Ex-Cons

He held up a pantyhose. He stretched it out so you could see it had a couple holes in it, and makeup was applied around the holes to give it a look like a human face — mascara around the eyeholes, lipstick around the mouth, blush on the cheeks. “This is the mask. Those of you who’ve worked here before know how it works. You can explain it to the newboots.”
It wasn’t until that night, after lights-out, that Lem explained how the mask worked. If you put the pantyhose on, people could pay to ramrod you up the poop-chute or in the mouth. Standard payment was a full flask of liquor. You “couldn’t tell” who was wearing the mask — really, you could, even if you couldn’t see their face, cuz there was height and weight and tattoos and hair — they all showered together, there wasn’t any hiding who it was.
But it was a rule, Lem said, that every fool on the rig gotta pretend they ain’t recognize whoever wear the mask. You was sposedta call him “Sheila” and pretend you was making sweet love to Sheila’s pussy.
It was not until a few days later that Lem revealed the mask didn’t gotta be a choice. If somebody could force it on you, you had to do it just the same. The rule was that you could plow whoever wore the mask, if you paid the price of a flask — that was it, don’t matter if the masker was begging you to stop or even if the masker managed to take it off before you were done. If the Sheila did get it off, then that “you gotta pretend you don’t know who it was” rule got cancelled — you could call that man a bitch for the resta his life.
So mostly, nobody fought it. If you could force the mask on someone and then get your dick in their butthole, they were better off keeping the mask on.

From Avery’s Adventures in Interracial Manhood

They had a game they called the Crack Game, which basically meant they tried to thwack each other with their dicks in the asscrack. It wasn’t even a real game, there was no way to win or lose, no points, no beginning, no end. Lamar panicked the first time one of those hairy hillbillies attempted at Laequan, ramming his cock between Lamar’s plump brown cheeks — half the reason he had never joined a gang was that people had been telling him since he was a boy that his ass was too perfect for prison.

From The Boss

He knew culo was ass. He done pick up on that. What was a hombrito culo?
Much to his surprise, one of those Mexicans mounted Sazonito, who situated a pillow under his belly, near his crotch, like it was a plastic pussy and he was gonna fuck it. The pillow propped up his ass at an angle.
That angle also made his asscheeks separate enough that Cody caught another strong whiff of his masculine aroma, joined by the scent of the other Mexican who got behind him. He kneeled behind Sazonito, lining his cock up with Sazonito’s ass.
Cody sucked in his breath. Was this normal? Was he gonna stick his dick in Sazonito’s ass?
It was Nelson who mounted Sazonito. Nelson was the oldest in the apartment. He was wiry and short, wrinkled but powerfully built, like a dehydrated weightlifter. He mounted Sazonito’s massively muscled body from behind and slid his limp cock into Sazonito’s asscrack.
“Aaaah…” Cody’s eyes opened wide. What the sam hill was going on? What Mexican craziness was this? He wanna stand and jump up and down — if he was surrounded by his own kind, that’s what he would do.
But the Mexicans were all treating this as normal, and Cody didn’t want to look like a squeamish, giddy anglo.
As far as Cody knew, no man who went to prison would bare his ass, raised up like that! And Sazonito was just doing it! Letting Nelson get in position to stick it in him! Cody still weren’t even sure that cornholing was a real thing, and apparently it was just happening, easy as pancakes!
“!Ay ay!”
Sazonito’s asscrack was warm and slightly wet with sweat, and the butthairs gave a little friction, it seemed. Nelson humped Sazonito’s buttcrack while watching the teevee screen, and he used both hands to squeeze Sazonito’s meaty cheeks against each other, his wrinkled old knob in between ’em.
It took Cody a few seconds to realize that’s what a hombrito culo was — not cornholing, it was just humping the buttcrack. It must be a prison thing. Or a Mexican thing, since they all knew about it but weren’t all ex-cons. Or maybe it was a Latin Kings thing.

From Roommates in the Dark

Lem had a standing offer — if a man jacked him off one time “wit’ full throat” — swallowed his cum, basically — Lem would let him “hump off” on him bunches — Lem spent years prison, so he knew about all this stuff. “Humping off” was when you rubbed your dick on his back, in the crook of his elbow or between his thighs.

From Roughnecks Got Oral Needs!

Pitnutting was a common practice among some prison gangs. Buck done work out his inhibitions over that long time back. So this afternoon, when he and his work-crew was just about done, they got to chatting about females. Buck ain’t get lotta man-talk about ladies these days, since he be bunking up with Jeb the preacher’s boy.
So when he and Gooey got to daydreaming out loud, they both was hard in seconds. Gooey was Gui Tengku, Buck’s partner on the Valve Crew. The rest of the Crew was scattered around monitoring, repairing and cursing at the valves that kept the rig working.
Gooey was Malay, and he ain’t a big man. He was skinny by Buck’s standards but ripped, muscles so tight and taut they looked painful, and the trackmarks on his arms was big like pimples. He got a hardon and stuck it in Buck’s shirtless armpit with a big grin — he ain’t even know Buck was down. He just smiled with bloodshot eyes dull-glassed, as his cock humped its way in and out of Buck’s armpit hair. “Whatchoo doin’, Gooey?” Buck asked with a jagged-dagger laugh, watching Gooey’s pecker poke out his armpit. Eventually, in halting English, they negotiated, even as Gooey’s dick still rubbed precum into Buck’s armpit hair.
The agreement was that Gooey would hand over a dub of weed and that Buck would let him keep pitnutting until they contract was over. Neither communicated this well — Gooey thought Buck done promise to smoke the weed with him, while Buck thought it was a one-time transaction.
So they was gonna be steady disputating the details, but for now, both thought they was on the same page.
Then the rest of the Valve Crew showed up, and they all got to nutting on Buck’s back just like Gooey was doing when they walked in. There was Agebisu, the portly Ivorian with a French accent, a trio of hairy and truculent Turks, a older Uzbek with gray hair and a wrinkled face, and a gaggle of Canadians from the far North. Each one of ’em stuck they dicks in Buck’s armpit and shot they wad on Buck’s back.
He ain’t mind one bit. There ain’t no benefit to being squeamish, after all, and if’n Buck could negotiate some exchanges with all them, he got plenty outta it.
It’s just an armpit, he told himself. Lotta them fellers was stinky, but so was Buck. Gooey got a skinny dick, shooting a thin wad out Buck’s armpit. He was followed up by the stubbiest-dicked Turk. Buck know for a fact that Muslims always try and stick it in, so he was ready for it when that Turk rammed his cummy dick onto Buck’s mouth. Buck ain’t open up, and he punch that Turk mid-orgasm in the buttcheek — he gotta reach around his portly ass to get him good.

From Jeb the Farmboy

His back muscles were broad and firm and slick with sweat. He flexed his back and shoulders for Teddy, making him shiver with desire. It produced a little valley between his shoulder blades. Teddy slid his cock between the valley, the slickness of the sweat gathering there making it glide with no friction. He held back a moan, not sure if that would embarrass Buck.
“Man, in county lockup back in Oklahoma, I was there for like a month,” Buck said, no longer watching the movie because the pretty lady was gone. “And they done that, whatchoo doin’ all the damn time. Indian fellahs love it, they do it a bunch. Shoulderbladin’.” He shrugged, unaware of how that sent a wave of friction and pleasure up Teddy’s spine. He laughed too, making Teddy’s cock spasm and leak precum onto his skin. Buck said, with kind of an embarrassed-little-boy leer, like he was tattling to his mother, “This one time I let like ten of ’em do it, and they all nutted in my hair. It was like wringin’ out a sponge.” He laughed sheepishly.
From Aroused by Ex-Cons

“You kept clean in there? Take off ya boots, sugah. Lemme make sh’ore you ain’t bringin’ the athlete’s foot,” Mistah Yancey said. But then b’for’n Buck could do so, Mistah Yancey bent o’er and undid Buck’s boot laces. T’woulda been easier fer Buck to do it, but Mistah Yancey gently pulled the boots off, then his socks. He hefted Buck’s foot, one after t’other, but Buck did the work of lifting his legs. Buck got big clodhopping feet with a strip of black hairs running up the top and a tuft of hair upon each toe. The toe tufts growed smaller but no sparser from the big toes to the li’l ones. Mistah Yancey wrinkled his nose, but he inhaled with gusto and don’t move away none.

From Buck on Bottom

Lem walked up and down Buck’s body, almost slipping off a couple times cuz Buck was soaked in sweat. But Buck was hairy nuff upon his chest and shoulders that Lem got some traction.
“They’ll be here, Lem, relax,” Buck said. He ain’t mind Lem’s knuckle-stacked old feet upon his belly and his chest. But it did stop him from doing more sit-ups.
“Indonesians is always late.” Lem exhaled a long plume of smoke. Then he flexed his bicep like he was intimidating invisible Indonesians. “Fuck ’em! Fuck that shit! They said eight o’clock.”
“A black feller got no business goin’ aftuh anybody fer bein’ late, Lem-“
“That don’t count! Nuh-uh!” Lem looked down at him. “Fuck you, Buckums!”

From Fists, Men and Muscles

He kissed Francesco’s left foot, right on the toes — he wore loose-fitting prison slippers, his knobbly hairy toes protruding because the slippers were too small for him, just like his pants. He had crude feet like an ogre, just like his face, which Miles adored. There was visible dirt on his toes, and his nails were disgusting — again, that was something Miles adored.
“Oh… Okay.” Francesco chuckled nervously. “You into my feet?”
Miles nodded. Those slippers tasted like steel and soil, with a little foot funkiness underneath all that. Miles pulled them both off. Francesco plopped down on the staircase. He stretched his long legs to give Miles easy access.

From The Filthiest Alphas in Boots, Sneakers and Sandals