AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This is an entry in the
Valentine's Day Story Contest 2024
, so I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to vote. This story takes the form of a letter received by my recurring character Matt (a muscular, well-hung, sex addicted Aussie male exhibitionist in his twenties) from his father Jack "Bull" Tyson (a former American porn actor serving several life sentences for multiple murder in California's Pelican Bay State Prison). This relationship was established in my previous story "Oz Beach Boy Looks For His Father."
In this letter, Jack recounts a homosexual affair he enjoyed with another inmate. This is a gay romance story, and features CFNM, stripping, humiliation, reluctant consent, fellatio, and anal sex. This is a work of complete fiction, and includes strong violence, much coarse, potentially offensive language, and rough prison talk. All characters are over eighteen. I am endeavouring to write a CFNM "Oz Beach Boy" story in every Literotica category. This entry: "Gay Male".
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Hi Matt,
How are you, kid? How are things in Australia? Hope you're hanging in there. Holy fuck, thanks for your last letter. What a Christmas and New Year's you had, huh? Fucking all those old bitches? And jacking off in front of Mariah Carey? Fuck! You're a chip off the old block, huh? We sure like to fuck, me and you. Maybe it's even some genetic shit?
Just like my last one, I got this letter out with one of the screws. This guy's a real duck. He's an older guy like me, and he's obsessed with Tegan Winters, a sexy redhead I did a few fuck flicks with in the 1990s. I tell this screw all about Tegan's pussy and what it was like fucking her, and he helps me out with shit. Thanks to this duck, you're once again getting the straight, unredacted dope from your old man in Pelican Bay State Prison. Uncensored, kid! The good shit!
With Valentine's Day coming up though, I thought I'd write you with an experience I had that was a little more romantic...it's not just about fucking, like my last letter. I'll warn you though, Matt, this is a gay story. You know I've done gay porn, and though I like pussy more than cock, I have rolled with some gay dudes over the years, both on the outside, and in the joint.
Matt, I like to get my cock sucked, and when you boil that shit down, I kind of don't care who's doing the sucking. Sorry, kid...your old man kinda swings both ways, but I'm also a cop killing bank robber and a former junkie, so that ain't nothing, right?
I don't really like being fucked in the ass though. I've told you about that before. I've had fuckers go for my ass in here, and I had to fuck those guys up, hard. I'm a stand-up guy, and I'm nobody's bitch. Killing all those cops got me monied up in the joint. I got a lot of bodies, but some fuckers still come for me, so I have to get them first. Not now that I'm old and an OG, more when I was younger. I don't mind doing the ass-fucking though, and I've done plenty of that shit.
I'm kind of a prison wolf -- out in the world, I'm mainly straight, but in here, I'm happy to go a little gay. I haven't had too many real relationships, and I've never really had a wife in here, but there was a guy when I was younger. We were like brothers, but with benefits...fuck, now this shit sounds like incest! Fuck that, right?
We were cool to hang, we had each other's backs, and we had a roll when we got horny. It was kind of simple, in a way. We were tight. The memory makes me happy, and that's why I wanted to write this down for you and get it out of my system.
It all started when I'd been in Pelican Bay for about five years. This was decades ago. I was in great fucken shape back then. I hadn't hit 30, I was rock-hard from the weight pile, and I was still a young and handsome fucker. I'd been in plenty of scraps, but not enough to fuck up my face yet. I still looked like I did back when I made those fuck flicks. My johnson was sure as shit as big as it had always been, hanging like a snake almost to my knees.
Remember that Mexican bitch, Captain Ramona Ramirez? I told you about her in my last letter. The kittie that liked to fuck and abuse the young convicts? She'd had her way with me a few times after that first three-way fuck I told you about, and the bitch was always scoping my ass, looking at me in the showers, and hanging around outside my house. I fucked her plenty over the years before she retired her fat Mexican ass.
One night, Ramona busted in on me with two other COs in tow. Officer Pete Moody and Officer Marty McIntosh were both A-grade assholes, two of the biggest fucks on the watch at Pelican Bay. They were violent shitbags, bullies who got their y-fronts soaked by administering beat-downs for no good fucken reason whatsoever. Assholes. Moody and McIntosh laid into me, slapping me around, pounding me in the ribs, calling me stupid names. Fuckers. Ramona Ramirez stood smirking in the doorway. Bitch.
When my cellie Richie Ravenhawk, an Apache bank robber who'd kill a motherfucker as soon as look at him, woke up and started calling Moody and McIntosh assholes and pussies, the two fuckheads called him red-this and red-that, and threatened to break his arms. Richie seethed in his cot, killing those two assholes a thousand times over in his mind.
"Get him to the showers," Ramona told her two punk guards. "We're gonna have some fun with Bull Tyson tonight!"
It's always the fucken showers. As Ramona laughed and shook her fat ass in front of us, Moody and McIntosh dragged and pushed me down the corridor until we eventually made it to the shower room. Surprisingly, it wasn't just us. There was a bunch of other screws in there, all laughing and smiling.
That bitch I told you about in my last letter, Officer Brooke Heinrich, was there, the fucken dump truck, laughing her big, fat fucken ass off with two other female screws. These kitties were much younger than Ramona and Brooke, and they were newjacks. I didn't know them from shit, but I would have fucked them in a heartbeat. They were hot enough.
There were two other male guards there who I didn't know from shit, along with Sergeant Al Bracken, another fucken asshole. This fucker had a rep for liking the young convicts, and he'd lift the pretty ones from their cells and party with them all night. He hadn't gone for me, I think on account of me being a cop killer. Life in Pelican Bay for this motherfucker was just one long blowjob. What an asshole.
"It's party time," Bracken sneered when I was pushed into the shower room.
There was also another convict in the shower room. I recognised him as a fish who'd just landed in Pelican Bay. His name was Toby Dallas, and he was unaffiliated, just a young guy in his mid-twenties who'd fucked up by killing two fuckers in a bar fight. He had a rep as a fighter, but he was small time. I didn't know why he was there in the showers.