Category: Tag pages

He picked up that pamphlet on curry respect, cuz he done saw there was a pretty lady in it, a curvy spicetip bitch. She was in the inside, wearing one them gauzy things in one image and in the other she dressed as a prison guard. It was obvious they’s the same photo, just with the clothes photoshopped. But she got a slamming body! Steel’d put it to her, and he like to think he’d eat her out if she want, but he got a feeling Hindu bitches got nasty pussy so maybe not. If he could stomach the diversity, he would.
Anyway, she got nice tits.

From Winston Steel & the White Man

“Her pussy is sweet as sunset, you don’t even know.” Thumper wolf-whistled as they both laughed. “Niggas, y’all is some silly pups, you know nothin’. Nothin’. She put out all I want. I stuck it up her backside two times last night. And I was licking that pussy fo’ hours. Ain’t even finish the whole pussy, I’s savin’ the rest fo’ latuh. I got a good fifteen, twenty puhcent left to snack on.” Thumper leaned forward, his rammy beard smelling like the unwashed parts of old ladies. His voice got a low growl. “Old lady pussy take awhile to get wet, but I got it goin’, got it goin’ good. Got her purrin’ like a mash potatuh, nigga.” His face was deadly serious. “I will lick any bitch’s pussy,” he said all defiant-like, as though he was making a stellar point. He held two fingers up to his mouth in a v-shape and licked the space between them. “Don’t care how ugly.”

From Thumper the Mover

Betty was the cell girlfriend. Every night, if you wanted, she would rub your shoulders, suck your dick, tell you how handsome you was, even let you stick your dick in her ass if you was into the nasty.
The only downside was that there ain’t no Betty. Betty was a fictional construct. She was fine in Tyrell’s mind, but she wasn’t real. Betty was more of a title than a person.
And the current Betty was Ernie Collard.
It was a voluntary role, but some people got volunteered for it whether they wanted to or not.

From Tyrell the Ex-Con

Then Sgt. Powers cupped his punching-hand o’er Buck’s knob, and he catched up as much cream as he could. All that jizz coated his old-man fingers and palm, and Buck’s knees went weak and buckled again, as pleasure wracked his body despite the pain in his yet sore ass. More nut jetted into Powers’s hand, which overflowed onto the floor, cuz Buck shot huge loads back then. Still did, but he was only eighteen then, so he nutted up gallons, seemed like.
That was finally it though, and as Buck’s cock limpened, Powers used that jizz as lube ‘tween Buck’s asscheeks. Buck got no idear what was happening or why he would be doing that, so’s he just submitted as Powers smeared Buck’s own jizz onto his buttcrack.
Then the purpose became clear, cuz when Sgt. Powers attempted at him once more. His dick was slimy and slippery, and it nearabout went in. Buck grimaced and clenched his asshole tight. Powers be knocking hard on his butthole, his iron dick trying o’er and o’er to get up his guts.
Buck felt his staccato breaths condensing upon his back. Buck bristled and gritted his teeth. A vast wad of jizz spurted up Buck’s asscrack and up the spine of his back. It got all the way into Buck’s hair — which was shaved short then, no mullet — as Sgt. Powers pressed his muscular chest ‘gainst Buck’s back.
Sgt. Powers’s cum coated his asscrack. Plentya it trickled into his asshole, but it felt good to Buck that he ain’t take it directly. He shot a big load fer an old man, Buck was impressed, not that he would say so. It just kept on going, even when Buck thunk it was done a couple times. Another fat wad kept erupting, then another, ’til Buck’s whole backside from his scalp to his ankles was covered in nut.
Presumably, Powers’s chest was similarly coated in jizz, cuz he was pressed up ‘gainst Buck, his hands twisting Buck’s nipples hard ’nuff to make him hurt. Buck squirmed ‘tween him and the wall. Powers musta been too focused on his orgasm to tell Buck to stand at attention.

From Buck on Bottom

He gripped Sasha’s hair and held on tight, drilling his dick all the way in. Part of that machismo Perico felt was that he had to make it good for Sasha — Perico felt obligated to ram him hard but to also bring him to orgasm; making sweet love would not be as manly, nor would rutting in his ass like a dog.
Perico had to really grind his dick in, hitting Sasha’s prostate and making him let out a long, low moan. That was how Perico knew he was doing this right. All he had to do was touch the right spot with his cock and Sasha cried out with an intense prostate orgasm. Girls, on the other hand, required a whole series of action and romance, lots of kissing, so much time-wasting, Perico thought, and if anything went wrong or just unusual at any point, she’d back out. Not Sasha. Sasha would take anything.
That sight was enough to take Perico to the next level too — he loved seeing a man cum with his cock in his ass, because to Perico, that seemed magical. His manhood had brought so much pain to this weaker man that he had orgasmed from it — that was how Perico saw his pasivos — and that made Perico roar with pride. Just the sight of Sasha twitching, ass clenching as he sprayed cum onto the floor was enough to send Perico into his climax.

From The Macho

Ever since last week, when Truck said he had not jacked off with any men in his seven months behind bars, Carson said that was bullshit for a Blood’s bodyguard. ‘I threaten people wit’ you bein’ they prison cellmate all the time, nigga. You gotta know how to do it.’ Truck just assumed it was all a joke. Besides that, he did know how to do it — there was no magic to it. If he really needed to cornhole a man, Truck thought, he could do it.
Nobody told him he’d look like a pussy if he didn’t do it. Apparently all of Carson’s other enforcers had a prison wife during their time behind bars. They thought only a pussy jacked himself off — literally, they said only “a pussy can make a nigga cum”. So if you jack yourself off with your hand, then you’re a pussy. Truck assumed that was a joke until Carson said criticized him for not doing it.
It wasn’t like Truck told Carson to threaten niggas with a ramrodding. Truck didn’t wanna do that. Why not just beat people up? So much simpler. Truck could beat a nigga up, then fuck a bitch. Why try and combine those two things?
He had beautifully plump round orbs, which Truck would have adored licking and sucking on for hours if they were attached to a female body. He felt a little guilty for even thinking about what that firm flesh would taste like beneath his tongue. On a white girl, those faintly visible blond hairs would have been sexy; Truck would have craved their taste on his tongue, but on Johan, Truck wished they weren’t there.
“Stick him! Stick him! Stick him!” Carson chanted and guffawed. The Italians had grown quieter — that was, Truck suspected, part of the plan: Carson had said he wanted Truck to be able to cornhole a man because it was intimidating, so presumably he did it now hoping to intimidate the Italians.
Truck took a deep breath as his dick slid into Johan’s plump ass. He guided it in with one hand until his fingers touched fine, soft ass-hair, which made him gag and look away again. It was hot and warm, and those strapping back muscles all flexed and looped and arched and rippled as Johan’s meaty booty struggled to accept Truck’s cockshaft.

From The Reluctant Thug

Miguel was squat and wiry, like you look at him and you think he prolly strong but he take off his shirt and he look like a rotten string bean but then he pick up sump’in heavy and you realize he was strong, he just don’t got muscles. Mexicans got they strength in the mustache, that’s what Buck’s Grammaw Agatha usedta say. They don’t need muscles.

From Cellmates in the Dark