My name is Joseph, but most people call me Joe. If you’ve been reading some of the other stuff you probably know me as “Uncle Joe.”
First off, I’m not gay.
Not at all.
It’s just…well, I’ll explain.
I grew up in Orange, Texas–a pretty simple place.
I played football in high school, then after graduation worked part-time here and there to help ends meet at home with my mom and three sisters.
Things were kind of on auto-pilot getting better and better until about 15 years ago.
I was working as a trucker for a national supermarket chain that I won’t name. Life was on an uptick after years of dead-end jobs doing manual labor at construction sites and working for temp services.
It kept me in really good shape. At the time I was 6’4 200 lbs and while I’m not the gym rat type, my muscular build came from hauling 2×4’s, bales of hay, and loading pallets of boxes.
Eventually, one of the supermarkets I was doing temp stocking for had a program where you could get your commercial driver’s license, but I’d have to spend like three months over in Arkansas where the supermarket was headquartered. They paid for room and board, and at the end, I’d have my CDL and make damn near 3 times as much as I did while stocking.
I signed up and took a greyhound to Pine Bluff, Arkansas and started the training, which was pretty cool, with the exception of all the technical and reading stuff. You’d think truck driving school would be pretty easy but it ain’t!
The put us up in a cheap motel that was pretty clean, but ice cold. And it’s one of those motels where you can’t control the air conditioning, so every night I damn near froze to death. In addition to that, it was right next door to a hole-in-the-wall bar that played their music super loud every night.
After about two weeks of getting in the groove of things I decided to go out one night to the bar that played the loud ass music next door to the motel and have a few drinks.
I’ve never been much of a fashion guy, or dressed up much, so I went to the bar with the same stained t-shirt, faded jeans, and work boots I’d wore to truck driving school earlier that day.
While sitting at the bar this older lady kept looking at me from across the bar. Every time I looked up, she was looking right at me.
After about my 5th beer, I went over and introduced myself.
Next thing you know, we’re at her house and her legs are spread eagle while I’m plowing her like a jackhammer.
Raw.
Annnnd, she let me nut in her.
There’s absolutely no better feeling than cumming inside a warm, wet pussy.
This went on every night for the next week or so until I’d unofficially moved in with her and her four kids instead of going to that shitty motel every night.
Eventually I graduated and started making short hauls before I’d get to move up in the world doing the really long drives where you make more money.
All was well until one day while I was in the office getting my paperwork done before heading out on my drive, two officers were there to arrest me.
I won’t go into what I was charged with, I’ll just say I didn’t do it.
They booked me in the county jail.
That first night was horrible.
There I was in Arkansas all alone, and Dorothy (the woman I was playing house with) wouldn’t take any of my calls. She apparently believed the accusations against me.
Everything in jail was bad. The food was bad. It was ice cold, yet they only gave us a paper think blanket to warm up with.
And everything was either concrete or steel.
As the days went on, I was frustrated in so many ways.
I’d surely lost that trucking job.
I’d lost the woman who provided me a place to stay and food to eat…
And loving.
I was sexually frustrated.
At the county jail they kept us in a dormitory people call a “tank.”
There were like 20 other guys in there and absolutely no privacy.
This meant I couldn’t even jack off if I wanted to.
All I could do to pass the time watch TV, play basketball on the rec yard, and LIFT WEIGHTS.
Lifting weights was a great way to release the stress building up inside me.
They let us go out to the rec yard twice a day. Like 2 hours in the morning, the two hours before the sun went down.
I went EVERY DAY.
Over time, I’d stacked on a lot of lean muscle without even trying.
In the tank when they’d come bring us the food trays, I’d eat everyone’s leftovers.
I needed it since I was working out so hard.
I’d got so jacked I could do the little titty dance with my pecs in the mirror making them flex one at a time.
It was weird at shower time because some of the gay guys would stare while I showered, and do other gay shit, but I wasn’t having any of that.
I didn’t have any beef, just wasn’t down with that shit, ya know?
I was getting used to my new normal.
Fast forward 2 whole fucking years and I’d gone to court and been sentenced to 20 years.
20 FUCKING YEARS!
When that judge sentenced me and banged that gavel, I thought all was over.
I got on that white bus and was transferred to the state penitentiary where things got really interesting.
In prison, things were way more laid back.
The guards were cool, and everyone there was chill. I guess a different tone was set because people just wanted to do their time.
Things were also better because instead of being in a tank with 20 other guys, I’d get to be in a cell with just one other person.
After a brief orientation I was sent to D block, 3 row, cell 17.
I was curious to know if I’d get my own cell, or if I was being sent to a cell where there was someone already housed there… a “Cellie”
And sure enough there was.
As the doors rolled opened there was my cell-mate.
“H-h-hi, I’m Conan,” he said nervously as I entered the cell.
“Cool dude, I’m Joseph…but you can call me Joe,” I replied.
He was a scrawny, young guy—couldn’t have been older than 21 years old or so.
A ginger, standing about 5’4″ 120 lbs or so at most.
In fact, if you looked up the term “Ginger” in the encyclopedia, there’d be a photo of Conan.
Pale skin, and super red hair, and freckles.
“I’m on the top bunk already, but I can move if you prefer it,” Conan said.
He was acting like he was afraid or something.
I’d later learn that he’d previously been bullied by other guys in the joint, and based on my height and build, he probably assumed I was one of those mean, fucked up guys, too.
But I wasn’t
I went ahead and took the bottom bunk because I’d preferred it. You see, it’s much easier to sit on the side of the bed reading a book, putting on your shoes, etc. when you’re on the bottom bunk.
As time went on, I got into the groove.
I got a job as a janitor which allowed me to move around the prison a lot, and I got to go to recreation every time it was allowed.
Conan was really clean and would keep the cell spiffy and smelling good.
He was basically OCD, and that worked for me.
Every night, I’d lay in bed trying to jack off, but I just couldn’t cum…
It’s like I was cursed.
Was it because I’d jacked off so much as a teen? Or because I’d been without sex for so long I was somehow “broken?”
I mean, don’t get me wrong… I get hard ALL THE TIME, and our prison issued orange uniform jumper and boxers didn’t do enough to hide my hard-ons.
When we go to recreation, it’s customary to take off the orange coveralls and work out in your t-shirt and gym shorts you can buy from commissary so your jumper isn’t all sweaty for the rest of the day.
The only problem is that the boxers and shorts are both this thin, white material, and I sweat a lot.
So, after doing my cardio set (usually 15 minutes of jumping rope), I’m DRENCHED and my boxers and shorts are now putting on the male version of a wet t-shirt contest.
Conan would go to recreation, too.
We never worked out together though.
While I was over on the free weights doing sets of bench presses or deadlifts, Conan was doing yoga stretches.
He was different.
One night as I was TRYING to jack off after lights-out and I’d assumed Conan was asleep, I noticed the shadow of his head on the wall hanging over the top bunk sneakily looking at me.
For some odd reason, this made me even harder, so I added some gusto to my jack off session, and for the first time in a long time I nutted all over my abs and chest.
I was a sticky mess, and out of breath.
I was trying to be quiet, but I couldn’t contain my breath and the moans that had erupted.
Not 10 seconds after, I heard Conan whimper and moan, too.
For some odd reason, him WATCHING Me made me aroused more than before.
Maybe that’s what the problem was all this time.
I didn’t even get up to wash the ropes of sticky cum on me, I just rolled over and went to sleep.
Neither of us every spoke of it after that. In fact, I’m not sure that he KNOWS that I know he was watching me.
The next day we woke up to find out the unit was on “lock down.”
Apparently, twice a year they shut everything down and do a thorough search of the unit for weapons and other bad shit.
While it usually lasts no more than 2 days, this time the shit lasted more than a week.
Over the course of the last 11 days, neither of us had the chance to go to work, or to rec.
This meant our little cell was our recreation yard.
I’d go first knocking out pretend jumping rope (which basically does the same thing without the rope but less fun), pushups, sit ups, etc.
Then Conan would do his yoga pose thing.
Every day, like clockwork.
I won’t lie, sometimes, some of his poses would get me aroused…and we were in such small quarters with me on the bottom bunk in that little cell.
My mind started to fantasize…
He’d do “downward dog,” with his cute little ass in the air, and I’d get a chubby every time, and look away… I’m not gay.
On day 12 we were doing our regular routine…
I’d already worked out, and he was doing his poses when I had to piss…
I got up off my bunk and went over to piss, and found myself in a trance, holding my hard dick…
Conan and I locked eyes, me with my now throbbing cock in my hand.
Without saying a word he crawled over to me, looking up the whole time, the grabbed it licking the tip of my dick.
I shivered.
It had been so long since I had anyone touch me.
Then, he let go of it
He climbed onto his feet and went over to throw a sheet over the little glass window that allows people to see into the cell.
While it’s technically not allowed, it’s an unwritten rule that you can do it from time to time…depending on who the guard is on duty, it’s not a big deal.
I stood there as he used the sticky UPC stickers from the back of commissary items to hang the sheet over the window…
Stroking my now rock-hard, deprived dick in my hands as he walked back over to me.
I leaned back against the wall and let my jumper and boxers fall to the ground.
He started caressing my abs…
Rubbing his soft little hands over each ripple as he then grabbed my dick and bit my left nipple.
This sent shockwaves through my body.
Conan was a little slut, and I was loving it.
I mean, I’m not gay if I’m RECEIVING a bj, right?
Right.
He got back on his knees and grabbed my cock once again with his hand, stuck out his tongue and started lightly licking my balls.
This made them tighten up and me tremble once again as he licked from my balls all the way up my shaft. A pool of precum gurgled out.
Like a hoover vacuum he latched on to the top of my cock and began sucking it for all it was worth.
Each time my throbbing cock entered his warm, wet mouth, I trembled with satisfaction.
He looked up at me the whole time.
I went back and forth between closing my eyes and throwing my head back, or looking back down and seeing this guy own my penis.
The deeper he went, the better.
This was the BEST blow job I’d ever gotten.
My dick is pretty big, about 9 inches, and he was only going down about halfway.
Sure, that mouth felt like pussy, but I wanted to feel it all the way in there.
I looked down at him, grabbed a chunk of his ruby red hair and forced him all the way down on my cock.
“Eat my fucking cock,” I growled as I saw his nose now buried in my thick patch of pubic hair.
I held him there as I watched his eyes tear-up and turn red.
I held him there for a good 8 seconds feeling the warmth of his throat engulf my manhood.
It felt sooooo fucking good.
As I let him off me, he gasped for air.
I wanted more.
“Stand up, I want more,” I said.
As he did, I started taking his jumper off and leaned him over my bottom bunk.
I didn’t even give him time to take everything completely off.
There was his pale, smooth white ass, and his clothes around his ankles.
I reached on my shelf and grabbed some Vaseline…
I’d never done this myself, but I usually use Vaseline to jack off…
He got on all fours and arched his back to prepare for me.
Without any compassion, I leaned over and started trying to push my heavy dick inside his hole.
He winced every time…
It wasn’t working…
I was so fucking frustrated, so I climbed in the bed, too.
And I know this sounds horrible, but I reached around with my left hand and covered his mouth while I laid all my body wait into him forcing my throbbing dick inside his tight hole.
He bit my hand.
As I let go, feeling bad, I heard “Fuck me daddy,” and that’s all I needed to hear.
I grabbed a handful of his hair with my right hand and used it as leverage to impaled him like a jackhammer.
I was fucking like an animal, and he was whimpering like a bitch.
“Yes, daddy!” he exclaimed as I looked down to see his ass muscles contract with each full stroke.
His hole was so warm and wet.
I could feel his walls gripping my dick as I entered and exited.
All of a sudden I was on autopilot, and the pace was picking up.
“I’m finna cum” I growled as I felt my cock jerk inside him.
I pulled out (instinctually because I had only fucked women up to this point and didn’t want any of them to end up pregnant).
As I pulled out another rope spewed out of my cock ending up in his hair.
This orgasm was even better than the one before where I’d jacked off.
Two more shot out of me like a geyser as Conan begged “put it back inside me!”
I did.
And that warmth was mesmerizing.
I collapsed on his back, out of breath, and totally satisfied.
I fell asleep, and woke up about 30 minutes later in the same position…my now flaccid cock still inside Conan.
I carefully got up as not to wake up.
I glanced down at his ass to some of my thick, creamy baby batter gurgle out of his ass.
—
I hope you enjoyed!
If you’ve been reading my stuff you know this is a prequel to “Ex Con Uncle Was My First Pt1.”
I’d love to team up with someone who does SIMS video, illustrative art, etc. We could REALLY have some fun with these themes. Oh, and as always I love your feedback as well.