Chapter Four
As Lamar neared the halfway mark of his sentence, a prison riot led to an extended lockdown. Normally they’d be kept inside for a day, maybe two. But not this time. They ain’t let them out for a month, except for a shower every other week — and even that was each cell at a time, no talking allowed.
Luckily Thumper had a few more blunts. He only ever brought one out when Lamar wasn’t looking. He never showed him where he hid them, nor told him how many he had left, so Lamar steady thought they was smoking the last one. Then somehow a day or two later, he’d bring out another.
They smoked sitting on the floor, as they done got accustomed to, because the cement was cooler than the bunks. Thumper swallowed the roach, as he stay doing. Then he stood up, his cock dangling afront Lamar’s face. Lamar looked away.
“Yo, I ain’t gonna tell no one ’bout this, alright?” Thumper said.
“What? You mean the blunt? It don’t matter.”
“No, not the blunt. I ain’t been able to get a bitch in here in like two weeks,” Thumper said. “So you gonna have to fill in.”
“What?”
“I won’t tell no one. Just open yo’ mouth, nigga. It’ll be like it never happened.”
“Thumper, stop-…” Lamar shut up when Thumper clasped a hand over his mouth.
“What did I tell you about sayin’ no to me?”
A part of him wanted to fight no matter what, but Lamar’s brain overruled his heart. There was no way he’d win in a fight, and even if he survived, Thumper would just have him killed later. He’d be remembered as a traitor to his fellow Bloods. Thumper leggo, and Lamar opened his mouth.
Thumper looked down at him with sympathetic eyes and shook his pitying face. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You just showin’ respect for yo’ elder Bloods,” he said, “It used to be normal, y’know, to jerk older niggas off in jail. That’s just what you doin’.”
His cock slid into Lamar’s throat, rubbing past his tongue, which twisted in revulsion at the flavor. It tasted like pure, distilled sweat, Lamar thought, stale and rancid sweat. It pulsated like a living organism feeding off him. It rocketed right to full erection too, in a matter of seconds.
He moaned and said, “Okay, relax yo’ throat, nigga. You doin’ okay. I ain’t gonna beat yo’ ass, just keep on coop’atin’. Don’t give up nigga, and try not to gag so much. I don’t wanna feel like I’m ramroddin’ ya, y’know, you ain’t a snitch. You just showing respect like you should.”
As the precum flowed into Lamar’s mouth, Lamar cringed with his eyes. He then shut them, because Thumper’s gaze was too intense. Thumper gripped Lamar’s head and gently plowed his dick in and outta Lamar’s throat, clucking his tongue each time Lamar gagged. Lamar sensed how good it felt to Thumper. His cock throbbed and pulsated, and Lamar found his throat stretching to accommodate Thumper’s mighty meat.
“Hmm-hmm, love that dome, nigga…”
Thumper stopped talking just before his orgasm, giving Lamar enough time to fill with dread. The hot, sticky taste of precum filled Lamar’s mouth, and he wanted to scream. Both of Thumper’s hands were on Lamar’s scalp, massaging it as he worked his hips in a circle around Lamar’s face.
His cum was so thick and luxuriant it spilled out the corners of Lamar’s mouth. He was disgusted, unable to concentrate on Thumper’s words over the feeling of his contorting stomach. “Don’t spit that shit up, nigga, don’t disrespect me like that. Don’t pretend it’s the grossest thing in the world, nigga. It’s my body, show a little a respect. Swallow that shit.” He held Lamar’s head in place until finally Lamar got his revulsion under control and forced the wad of cum down his throat. Thumper looked inside Lamar’s mouth like a curious doctor and was satisfied that it was empty.
“Man, Thumper, don’t do-“
“Shut the fuck up, nigga. You done,” Thumper said, letting his dick dangle between his legs. “You did it. Now we ain’t gotta talk about it again.” He leaned forward and kissed Lamar on the cheek. “Go on and gimme some push-ups before we go to bed.”