I didn't do it, I was framed. Just at the wrong place at the wrong time but I didn't do it. My name's Marc and I'm eighteen years old. It all started on prom night. My old man had forbidden me to go because he found out what gift I'd be unwrapping for my girlfriend, Melissa. I was fixin' to head out the window when I heard the phone ring.
"Oh, Hi Melissa." I heard down the hall.
I ran over to the door and pressed my ear against it.
"No, Sorry Melissa," dad continued,
"He already left."
I pulled on the doorknob. Locked! So I pounded and kicked on the door as hard as I could.
". . . They were all over each other," I overheard.
"Sorry Hon, Goodnight."
I'm gonna fuckin' KILL him!! I finally broke through my bedroom door and charged down the hall at him. I got a good clean blow across his head, leaving him on the floor, bleeding. I stood over him and screamed so many things I can't even remember. I stormed past my broken door, into my room and changed out of my tux. Grabbed a fake I.D., my dad's car keys and headed to the nearest pub. I needed to blow off some steam. As I drove, I examined my knuckles and noticed blood on my graduate ring. I stopped at my usual place and started off with a few shots. Near last call, a couple of tall, dark figures came into the bar. Before I downed my next shot, a hand forced me to put the glass down.
"Mark?" I heard behind me.
"Yeah?" I slurrily asked.
"You're under arrest for the murder of your father."
I stood up quickly, as sloshed as I was. I couldn't believe what I was hearing!!
"I DIDN'T KILL HIM!" I contradicted.
"Oh yeah, What's this?" one man said as he grabbed my hand and examined the ring.
"Me and my old man had a fight. I hit him," I explained.
"We heard the murder ourselves while your father was reporting his STOLEN car," the other man replied, picking up my keys.
"We had a fight, I hit him, I BORROWED the keys to let off some steam, Okay!?" I said sternly.
One of the men twisted my arm and cuffed me; speaking in monotone,
"You'll have plenty of time to explain, let's go."
I tried so hard to resist but I couldn't even stand on my own. They brought me down and gave me the police-booking rigmarole you see on television. I got myself a trial date and I was HOPING but I was moved to a prison quicker than I was booked. I DIDN'T DO THIS! But what am I SUPPOSED to do?! All the evidence pointed to me! I am so fucked.
Now I'm heading into the cafeteria. My first day, I'm so nervous. Don't know what to expect or what not to expect. I've got my tray and I'm looking for a safe spot to sit. I come across this table (not too crowded - not too barren) and settle myself down. Phew. So far so good. A man across from me throws a hand in my face, causing me to jump.
"Name's Phil," he says rather cheerfully. I grab his hand saying, "Marc" while eyeing his strange friendliness. I reach for my fork to start eating when, suddenly, I feel this gruff hand brush my shirt up, force past the elastic waistband of my uniform and grip tightly to my dick.
"OH FUCK!!" I gasp. I jump up but he jerks me back down into my seat by my cock. SHIT THAT HURT!! My eyes trail up the arm and notice this big, intimidating man to my right looking into my eyes. I decide to keep my eyes on my tray. His big hand started going up and down my shaft. His sweaty palm grazing across my now awakened skin.
Oh Shit! I'm getting hard! Fucking embarrassing and everyone at the table is leering! I try to get up again but he jerks me down and clutches his other hand into my shoulder. I groan from the pain but that just turns him on even more. He starts moving his hand a little faster, squeezing every now and the SOUND! The sloppy sound it's making!! OH GOD, It feels so good but I don't want to cum, not to him, not in front of these guys. Then Phil decides THIS would be a good time to strike a conversation.
"Newbie Huh?" "Y-p" I reply in a short gasp, clutching the table. I start to pre-cum, making his hand even more sensitive to the touch. My blood pumping hard as my veins throb against his strong, slick hand. It moves faster and faster up and down my dick. His thumb circling the head, sending waves up my spine. I grit my teeth and try hard to resist.
"Whatcha in for?" Phil asks.
"M-rd-r One," I growl.
"That's me too" Phil blurts out.
Then he asks, "Whatcha Do?"
I can't take it anymore. My eyes are rolling back. I can feel my balls tighten but the gazing of the men is throwing me off my climax. The big man pulls his face to my ear and begins groaning and breathing in it. He keeps repeating the same thing,
"Ooohh yeah cum for me, cum for me baby. UUNGH, Yeah. I know you wanna do it, just cum for me. UNGH!"
He starts licking and nibbling my ear, then moves down and sucks on my neck. OH G-GOD NO! I start bucking to his hand.
"Oh yeah baby, that's it," I hear in my ear.
I open my eyes and the men are circling us, some with their hands down their pants. I want to stop but at THIS point, I don't care. I clutch the table again for leverage and start to buck wildly: grunting, groaning and sweating. Suddenly, an electrical surge shoots through my whole body as I shudder and jerk. Spasm after spasm, hot spurts of cum shoot out of me, then another and another, covering his hand. I arch my head back with a soft groan and take a few breaths. I lean over my tray, slowly letting go of the table.
"Good boy." He whispers in my ear, sliding his hand out of my trousers, "Good Boy."
He kisses the side of my face as he puts his hand down his own pants, rubbing my cum on his dick. He lets out a small moan, pulls his hand out and licks the rest off his fingers.
"I didn't do anything," I reply to Phil in a hoarse gasp, "I was framed."
A quiet, "Oh," escapes his lips as he gapes at me with his hand down his pants. After lunch, the rest of my day is going pretty normal for a day in prison, I guess. I'm working out and starting a book to get my mind off of earlier today.
It's time for "lights out" and I'm being walked to my cell. When I enter, I notice my cell mate for the first time. I can't believe it! It's the SAME, mysterious man from the cafeteria. When his eyes met mine, he slowly smiles.
"Hey Baby," he greets as the bars slam behind me.
To be Continued . . .