He treated the punk with great respect and it occurred to me that he may be able to save himself after all.* * *During my last week behind bars, he spoke of the dramatic changes that had taken place in his life. Gay sex Once or twice a month I’d shout them a head job with swallow. He paused.“Yours.” He replied quietly, with a sigh. The next morning, he could hardly get out of bed. If I wasn’t in prison, I could almost imagine heaven like this.I found that I was getting progressively hornier, I knew I was getting close to taking his cherry. I think he worked out at the eighteen-month mark, that he wasn’t going to have them replaced, and from then on nursed them as much as he could. “In a minute you’re going to stand spread eagle against the bars,” I said quietly. He had to repeat the difficult subjects, but he passed, and his self-worth grew with his academic achievements.I never let him fuck anyone in the first six years we shared a cell. I leaned forward and buried my bone to the hilt.
