“This is called a reacharound,” Buck said, his throaty voice loud because it was aimed directly into Teddy’s ears. “In prison, that’s how you make it okay — like, you ain’t bitchin’ a fella out if’n you givin’ him a reacharound. That makes ya equals. Well, maybe not quite equal, but y’know… He ain’t a punk, anyways. You just both jackin’ off but one of you is doin’ it inside the other’s butt.”
From Aroused by Ex-Cons
Tag: prisons
Let’s wrassle!
“Shut up, Buck!” Cody grinned and jumped off the top bunk onto Buck’s shoulders, as Buck, still naked, was reaching for his foot powder. “Let’s wrassle!” Cody tried to sit on Buck’s shoulders, but he was still wet, and Cody slipped down to clutch him piggyback. Cody wore sweatpants and a heavy shirt, but his feet was bare and dug into Buck’s side as he tried to keep a stable hold on his wet flesh. The jostling made Buck’s jigglesome schlong sling back and forth.
“Is the Salisbury steak good?” Buck said, foot powder in hand, with Cody climbing on his back. Cody gripped his head and squealed as he almost fell. His feet pummeled Buck’s moist back, attempting to keep a tight hold.
Kax flared his nostrils. “No. Is it evah?” He looked up from his manga to see Cody climbing Buck’s back like a mountain. Buck waggled his dick — he was going to apply foot powder to his balls, so he was handling his junk, but Cody’s jostling made him stop to avoid spilling the foot powder.
“It’s okay sometimes, I had it good before. My grandmoms used to make good Salisbury steak,” Buck said. He ignored Cody wrestling with him from behind. They used to wrestle for real, when they was both the same size. Then Buck kept growing. So now when they “wrestled”, Buck basically ain’t participate. Cody tried to do pro-wrestling moves to his boulder-like buddy, and Buck gamely let him.
“Only good thing they make is here the tacos. And the chicken nuggets is okay,” Kax said. He put down his manga and laid on his side to face Buck and Cody. He got a comb sticking outta his afro, and he looked stoned, though it wasn’t clear if that was a perpetual expression or if he was managing to smoke weed on the downlow in here.
“Oooooooh, man, dawgie, shit, I can eat me some chicken nuggets. I could eat a mountain of chicken nuggets,” Buck said. He gestured with one arm to show how big the mountain of chicken nuggets could be, as Cody gripped him by the neck and trampled his back with his bare feet. Buck held his carton of foot powder in his hand, so every time Cody kicked him, white powder puffed out the top. “I was in Maryland State awhile back, man, they got chicken nuggets that was good as hell, you wouldn’t even believe it-“
“Got you, Buck!” Cody said. His tiny arm put Buck in a headlock, which ain’t slow Buck down at all. Buck got animated about prison food, and his hefty-lad voice boomed out, oblivious to Cody’s arm across his neck. “Got you in a double-headlock! You can’t get out of it! It’s impossible!”
“-better than McDonald’s, man, swear to God. But they ain’t barely give you none, you only get like four.” Buck held up four fingers on one hand, his other still holding his foot powder. Cody had one thin forearm around Buck’s neck. “And they ain’t big. So I was goin’ aftuh ’em in the kitchen, like sayin’ — there’s lotta little guys in there, right, they ain’t need all that. Some of ’em don’t even finish ’em!”
“I’m gonna suplex you, Buck,” Cody said. He pulled on Buck’s mullet. Buck ignored him, so Cody dropped to the floor and got himself in position to use his twiggy arms to pick up Buck’s massive frame. He even tried — his little muscles flexed as he pushed on Buck’s flesh — but he couldn’t even shove Buck much less pick him up. “Gonna smash you on the floor!”
“But this screwface say I can’t take ’em from the specs or he put me on light-time work detail, and I ain’t gonna get my early release,” Buck said, a hand gesture — fingers forming lenses in front of his eyes — indicating that ‘specs’ meant ‘guys wearing glasses’. Cody ascended Buck’s back again and pulled his hair while pretending to shiv him in the belly. “So I tol’ the kitchen feller, I oughta get more than four, y’know. My dick can eat four chicken nuggets, and it ain’t even got a mouth,” Buck said. Kax laughed.
“Did they give you any more?” Kax asked.
Buck shook his head, his shaggy mullet going back and forth. “Nah, the kitchen feller say he ain’t allowed ‘nless’n I get the doctor to say it, and the doctor, he don’t say it. He just gimme extra carrot stick. I’s like, carrots ain’t nevuh gonna fill me up, doc. You need-a gimme a whole carrot farm if you want me to stop askin’ for more. I bought buncha sardines in the commissary. Sardines is little, but they fills ya up.” Cody hugged Buck’s naked pecs from behind and shimmied him like a tree. “Ow, Cody, you pullin’ my chest hair out.”
Cody finally stopped wriggling, arms hugging Buck’s shoulders and riding him piggyback. “Put ya drawers on, Buck! Your dong is so ugly!”
“I’s tryin’-a put my drawers on, Cody! I gotta powder my balls first, but you keep pullin’ my hair ‘nd shit.” Buck swayed his body left and right, at first trying to shake Cody off him, then helicoptering his dick so it slapped his thighs.
Kax sat up. “Yo, they the same way here — you get five chicken nuggets. They pretty big. It ain’t that bad. The spaghetti is the bad one, oh dawg, it is awful, and it’s all sauce — sauce is mostly water — it’s basically tomato soup wit’ some noodles in it. They say it got meat, but I don’t taste no meat. Mostly water.” He paused. “You get bread though, with that one.”
The smell of medicinal foot powder filled the air as Buck dumped some out into the palm of one hand. A cloud of it spilled out. He stood on one foot to powder the other foot. “Man, is the doctor cool? I gotta get more foot powder, and the nurse tol’ me-“
“He puts it on his balls too!” Cody said, still riding Buck’s back and poking him in the ribs with his feet. His face was right next to Buck’s. “He uses so much, it’s crazy!”
Nostrils flaring, Buck said, “Yeah — Cody, get off me. I gotta — I can tell him ’bout my balls.”
“You talk soooo slow!” Cody said. He again pantomimed like he was stabbing Buck in the belly. Cody’s little arms could barely reach around his barrel chest. His feet was resting on Buck’s asscheeks, which was now dry enough he could clutch the skin with his toes. “Hey, Kax, we’re gonna brew some hooch. We need sugar and canned peaches and mashed-potato flakes and apple juice and a bucket and a funnel and sliced apples and baby carrots-“
“We don’t need all that, and shut the fuck up, Cody!” Buck said. “Don’t say that so loud.” He looked at Kax. “Are they strict about prison hooch here?”
Kax shook his head. “Nah. Officer Messypants will make you dump it out if he see it. Most of ’em don’t care though,” he said. “You can’t sell it to none of the Mexicans, or the Latin Kings’ll shank you.”
“Okay.” Buck lifted up his giant meaty dick so he could finally powder his balls, only for Cody to laugh and shake Buck’s back, making him spill all the powder on his hand. “Get off me, Cody!” Buck shook him off as Cody cackled. He dropped off Buck’s back and smacked Buck’s cuelows. He again moved as though to suplex Buck and slam him on the ground. Cody strained to pick up his giant buddy, who outweighed him by some two hundred pounds. Kax snickered at the sight, while Buck got his balls powdered.