How To Rape A Straight Guy Sullivan, Michel (best e reader for epub TXT) 📖

be just like with her.  So I pulled off my boxers, slipped from my bunk an’ stood there with a ragin’ boner, lookin’ at him sleepin’ there.  He looked even more like a kid, lyin’ on his side, mouth open just a little.  An’ it was a pretty mouth.  Curved like a girl’s, but not in a sissy way.  More innocent an’ gentle.  Then I thought about my little brother.  Few years younger than him.  Only family I had left.

I hadn’t seen him in three years.  He’d just about be done with high school.  Probably did good; he was a sharp kid.  But then...I’d seen other sharp kids crash an’ burn an’ wind up in here.  All it takes is one lousy moment when your luck’s lookin’ the other way for you to wind up crushed.  Like this dumb kid lyin’ here.  Just one dumb mistake.  Not like me.  My life’s a series of ‘em, even up to then.  With him, all it took was one...an’ then the fucked up “justice system” sent him here.  It wasn’t right.

Man, I wouldn’t want somebody to do to my brother what I was about to do to this guy.  An’ that kept me from movin’.  I dunno how long I stood there, but I was startin’ to lose the edge.  Startin’ to pull back to where another hand-job’d hold me.  Take a little longer on this one.  A little slower.  More mind to it.  Fact is, I was about to get back up on my bunk to get started on one when he rolled onto his back an’ one of his legs got uncovered.  An’ it was white.  An’ smooth.  An’ almost hairless.  An’ so much like one of Connie’s legs, I dropped on top of him without a thought.

My hand was crushed his mouth before he knew what was happenin’, an’ I had this plastic fork handle I’d ground down to where you could cut paper with it jammed against his neck.  He started to fight me, so I dug it into him.  Cut his skin, a little.  He stayed still, then.

“Be glad it’s just me,” I said, real soft an’ mean.  “I could let a dozen of ‘em in here to have you.  Even make some stash off it.”  Then I took my hand off his mouth an’ pulled his shorts down from his hips -- no, tore ‘em.  I heard ‘em rip an’ felt his dick flop against my hand.  I jerked it away.

“Don’t, man,” he was whisperin’ over an’ over, “please.  This isn’t my way.  I’ve never done that -- .”

“Shut up!  You say one more fuckin’ word, this goes in your brain.  You got me?”

He nodded his head an’ the little pussy started to weep like a girl.  Shit, I didn’t cry when I got it front an’ back from three Mexicans my first time in, an’ I was lots younger than this little faggot.  An’ that pissed me off.

He started to roll onto his belly, but I stopped him.  I hadn’t liked it like that, before, so maybe if I fucked him more like I fucked a girl, it’d be better.

I used my knees to shove his legs apart, then felt around for his hole.  He was shakin’, he was so scared.  An’ somethin’ stirred behind my heart.  I loved it.  Loved the strength it gave me.  The power.  The control.  I used my free hand to put his legs up on my shoulders -- makin’ damn sure the fork was still stuck to his neck -- then I put my dick right up to him.  He began to struggle, again, but I cut him.  Not deep, just enough to let him know I meant it.  Then I said, “Don’t say a fuckin’ word while I’m doin’ it, bitch.  You yell or scream or let anybody know I’m fuckin’ you, you’re fuckin’ dead.”

It was hard pushin’ into him, like his ass was frozen shut.  I used some spit to wet things up an’ still had to work my way in, but once I got the head in, the rest followed easy.  He gasped, then grunted an’ groaned an’ tried to wiggle away the whole time, but I had him too tight.  Man, he had to work at not cryin’ out.  In fact, he wasn’t doin’ too good at it, so I yanked his shirt up an’ rammed it into his mouth an’ he bit on that to keep quiet.  An’ then I got busy pumpin’, ‘cause I wanted it done quick.

Now I ain’t gonna lie to you -- workin’ myself into him like that an’ then fuckin’ him -- it felt good.  A hundred times better’n that first guy.  I finally understood why the guys would tell you that your right hand only goes so far.  There’s somethin’ about bein’ inside somebody else to get off that adds ten times more pleasure to it when it’s what you want to do.  An’ my mind got wrapped up in that, I think.  Took me back to the last time I fucked Connie, just before I was busted.  An’ for a minute, it’s like she was there...if that makes any sense.  Like...I looked down at him, an’ for a second I thought it was her.  Guess it was ‘cause of the darkness an’ shadows an’ the little slits of light comin’ in from the walkway lights, but I could of sworn it was her.  Was her body under me.  You see, I...well, his pecs were round an’ flat an’ solid.  I’d even shown him some exercises in the gym that could fill ‘em out a bit, build him up some; part of the “trust me” bullshit.  But there in the dark they looked a little bit like Connie’s tits, swear t’ God.  I mean, like -- like when she’s lyin’ back an’ they sort of flow to the sides.  Just not as soft an’ -- an’ shit, I