Bunk Buddies

"Phil was having his turn to?"

I nodded. "I guess that was the deal they'd come to after both getting bored of jazzing themselves off. It made me wonder if maybe I was lucky to be sharing with Derek who'd made it clear he was willing to bend over even though I'd said that my arse was out of bounds."

Rob bent down over the coffee table and I shuffled up behind him, my cock lengthening quickly at the offer of sliding back up his arse.

He laughed, "I can't believe you were so reluctant to take Derek up on his offer and yet now you've got a taste for it, you can't get enough of it."

"It's funny, yeah," I chuckled back. "Once I started I couldn't believe how quickly I got into it. I just found I instantly loved it – it felt so totally horny shagging another bloke up his arse! I didn't even care that the screws spied in on us and let the whole corridor know I'd joined the brown dick club. It felt so good that I couldn't give a fuck!"

"Did the other guys treat you any differently afterwards?" Rob asked as I slowly eased my stiffening organ up his rear. "Maybe look at you weirdly at breakfast or say any wisecracks about you and Derek?"

"No," I said back, "there was nothing like that. Everyone knew the score – that we weren't lovers or boyfriends, just two blokes who'd started having bum sex after lights-out on account of mutual desperation. So there wasn't any great fanfare or any smartarse jokes. Just the two of us doing our separate things with the whole corridor knowing but nobody saying that we'd spent part of the previous evening with my dick buried up his butt."

Rob chuckled as I started developing a smooth, slow rhythm working in and out of him.

"Now no more fucking questions," I snapped. "Let's just enjoy the fuck!"

===

A few days later he was back at my place and this time, for added variety, I did him in the garage. I'd been showing him how to use a tile cutter because he had some repair job to do in his bathroom and is totally clueless, and we'd both ended up getting turned on by the smell of sweat and sealant, so I bent him over the sink and did him standing up with our trousers yanked down around our knees.

We'd both loved it – he'd shot a huge wad of cum all over the little jars of nails and screws – and had been well up for a second showing once we'd given ourselves time to recover.

While we did, I was letting him see how to use a hacksaw to cut a tile to the right shape and that was when he asked me what had happened next in the prison.

"Where did we get up to?" I said, using a pair of plyers to pull the broken blade from the saw after it had snapped halfway through the tile.

"You'd heard Miles getting his oats two doors along from you, and that set you wondering about what it would be like to try it for yourself."

"Yeah, it did," I agreed. "That and a visit from Brian."

"Who's Brian?"

"My brother," I replied. I thought it was quite funny how he now knew the name of my brother but keeps calling me Edward because I haven't been able to tell him I'm actually Steve. "We weren't that close before the whole fraud thing kicked off, but he stood by me when all the shit was flinging and even coughed up some of the legal bill."

"So what did he say when he visited you?" Rob asked.

I managed to yank the blade off and reached for another. Rob didn't seem remotely interested in what I was trying to show him. In spite of his claim to want to start doing more DIY, I thought it unlikely that he had any intention of doing the job himself.

"Brian had been a naughty boy in his late teens and had spent time in some young offender's shithole, so he knew the drill as far as having a bunk buddy went."

Rob chuckled at the term 'bunk buddy', but that was pretty much how I'd come to think of Derek. I'd kept meaning to get back in contact with him now that his sentence was up and he'd have had his release. Maybe one day I'll bite the bullet and track him down for real. You never know, he might be up for the two of us buddying up again.

"He was pretty frank about it," I went on, "or at least as frank as he could be. We were able to talk in our own booth but you never know who's within earshot. He basically told me the ropes – what to do and what not to do – the way an older lad had told him when he'd been inside."

"What did he say?" Rob asked as I put the new blade on the hacksaw.

"Are you actually interested in watching me do this?" I asked him, holding up the half-cut tile.

"Of course I am," he quickly agreed. "It'll save me having to get someone out."

"Have you any idea what I've done so far?"

"Kind of," he smirked. "But you might have to come over and show me again. I can always make it worth your while..."

I chuckled and got back on sawing the tile. "Seriously, mate, it's a twenty minute job. You could do it tonight when you get home if I loan you the kit."

"Okay, but what did Brian say?" he repeated, far more interested in hearing about my time in prison.

"He started off in a roundabout sort of way by saying how important it was to relieve the boredom. Kept going on about how it was necessary, that no-one likes having to do it but it stops a guy going cuckoo on a long stretch. I didn't know what the fuck he was on about. I thought he meant stuff like playing chess or whatever."

"Okay," Rob grinned.

"I only cottoned on when he said, 'Just don't think about it, mate. Just do it, finish off and don't dwell on it afterwards. It don't mean anything – it's just like scratchin' an itch after it's been gettin' really annoying.'

"That's when I realised he was on about sex. So I said, 'Brian, mate, I'm not into doing that kind of stuff.'

"And he came back with, 'You think I was into it before I was banged up? Beggars can't be choosers, kiddo. You've got to take what you can get if you wanna stay sane.'

"I couldn't believe that my older brother was telling me I had to shag other blokes while I was doing time. That's what he was saying, to cut to the chase: that I basically had to use the brown tunnel to get my kicks for the next eighteen months."

Rob nodded at me, his face a picture of intrigue. He always enjoyed conversations like this.

"I said to Brian, 'I've never done anything like that. The thought of it disgusts me.'

"He said, 'It did me too. You get used to it though... it's better than trying to hold out and ending up going wacko.'

"'You used to do it when you were inside?' I asked him, struggling to grasp what he was telling me.

"'Of course I fuckin' did, mate!' he laughed. 'I mean not like every night, but sometimes you've just got to.'

"I lowered my voice, needing to clarify what I thought he was saying. 'Are you telling me you used to bum other lads... in that young offenders' place?'

"'Yeah,' he said, blushing a bit at how direct I'd been. 'I thought you'd have figured that out – all us horny lads walkin' round wi' bones on all day... I mean what else were we gonna do?'

"'What else were you gonna do?' I asked him. 'There was plenty you could've done without sticking your prick up other lads' arses!'

"'Like what?' he'd asked back.

"'Given yourself a good whacking off every night like I'm having to!'

"He'd shrugged at that and looked unconvinced. 'Maybe you don't know what it's like yet... how the boredom starts getting to you...'

"'So you knobbed other lads up the bum?' I asked. 'To relieve the boredom?'

"'Those who were up for it, yeah,' he said. 'It's like... I dunno... a biological necessity or something. You might think it's gross and disgusting now, after just a week, but soon you're gonna start craving something more than your hand...'

I didn't say anything for a minute, struggling to take in what he'd just told me. It had never occurred to me that my big brother would have been going at it like an arse-bandit with the sort of skinheads and delinquents that place had been home to, but I suppose it was pretty obvious really.

"'Come on, mate,' he laughed, seeing my stunned expression. 'I was in there nearly two years. Did you think I'd just been tossin' off all that time?'

"'I didn't really think about it, to be honest.'

"'I started out tryin' to get by just by whackin' off,' he went on, 'but when you hear other lads doin' it and how much they was enjoyin' it, you get to thinkin' about what it would be like to get a bit of it yoursel'.'

"'That's how it worked with you was it?'

"'Yeah,' he agreed. 'Me and my roommate started doin' it. He used to get into my bunk for a snuggle – I think a lot of lads coupled up like that out of loneliness – and this one night we were spoonin' against each other, his back against my chest, and we both started gettin' horny. To cut a long story short, we were sort of rubbing against each other and pulled our pants down, then I got on top of him and did something that felt really nice. It wasn't until after he'd gone back to his bunk and I could smell the stink of my dick from under my blanket, that I realised I'd just... well... basically I'd just bummed him."

"I nodded, still reeling from all these revelations but grateful that he was being so frank with me.

"'And you started doing it regularly?' I asked.

"'Not every night, like I said, but enough to stop my balls turning blue.'

"'And did you enjoy it?'

"He nodded and smiled, a little apologetically. 'I did once I'd got used to it. It's not like doin' a girl, but it feels pretty good. It makes a hell of a stink as well – while you're doin' it, I mean – but you get used to that too.'

"'Did you bend over for it too?' I blurted out, giving in to my curiosity.

"'Sometimes, yeah,' he admitted, blushing again. 'I mean, you 'ave to, mate. You can't expect it to be all one-sided. Havin' it up you isn't as bad as you think it's gonna be. It doesn't hurt that much once you've figured out how to take it.'

"I couldn't respond to him, I was so shocked at what he'd said. I had a vision of some thick-dicked tattooed thug slamming away at my brother's arse with all his mates cheering him on. I'm sure it wasn't like that at all – I'm sure his furtive encounters in the borstal were much like what went on between the men in my prison – but the image was hard to shake off.

"He went on, 'Anyway, that's why I wanted to talk to you about it... tell you what I learned...'

"'Okay...' I managed.

"'Rule number one,' he began, 'always do the other guy from behind. Stops it gettin' all kissy and cuddly and keeps it different from the way you mostly do it with a woman. Makes you think of it as something totally different.'

"'This is what that older lad taught you?' I asked.

"'Yeah,' he nodded. 'And it worked for me... I've never wanted it since I got my release.'

"'Do some guys keep craving it with other fellas on the outside?' I asked.

"'Apparently, yeah,' he whispered, almost conspiratorially. 'But if you do what I'm tellin' you, you'll go straight back to doin' it with a woman without missin' it at all.'"

Rob brayed with laughter and called out, "Well, that didn't work, did it?"

I couldn't help but laugh back. "I reckon I didn't follow the rules properly!"

I finished cutting a pipe-sized chunk out of the tile and the stray piece fell to the floor and smashed.

"Easy, huh?" I said, holding up the finished precision-cut tile but he just threw me a vacant look like he'd forgotten what he was supposed to be watching.

"So what was rule number two?" he asked and I continued with my story as I put the hacksaw and pliers away.

"Rule number two was about doing it with different blokes. Stops you getting attached to one man and the two of you starting to feel possessive of each other.

"'There's no way that would happen,' I'd told my brother. 'I mean it's just like using his bum as a sex aid... it's not like there's any emotional stuff going on.'

"'I'm only tellin' you what worked for me,' Brian said. 'Might be different for you.'

"'You mean you were shagging different lads?'

"'I had a few on the go, yeah,' he said, his cheeks colouring again. 'But that meant I never saw one lad as a sort of boyfriend or anything. Keepin' it varied stops all that.'

"Jesus – he'd been a right little butt pirate when he'd been banged up! He'd been doing the rounds, getting his dick dirty wherever he had chance to – round the back of the kitchens, in the greenhouses, anywhere he could! He'd been at his mates' arses like a fucking rabbit in spring!"

Rob had chuckled, probably drawing comparisons with his own son who was a bit of a goer at university on that score, from what Rob had told me.

I went on, "Anyway, I just nodded and asked, "Okay, what's rule number three?'

"'Wash your dick straight after, wi' hot water and plenty of soap.'

"'That goes without saying,' I said flatly, showing my revulsion. 'What's rule number four?'

"'If you're bendin' over for another bloke, don't wank yoursel' off while he's doin' your arse.'

"'There's no way I'm taking it, Brian,' I told him. 'If I do anything while I'm in here, it'll be a strictly one-way trip.'

"'Yeah, well good luck with that, mate,' he chuckled. 'But if you do end up with your face in a pillow, just don't jazz your dick off. It'll make you grow to like it.'

"'Okay,' I shrugged. 'And the fifth rule?'

"'It's the last one. You can ask for pile ointment from the duty medic. Use it as lube – it's got anaesthetic in it so it'll hurt less.'

"'I told you, I'm not bending over for no-one,' I reminded him.

"'Well use it on your knob then. It'll make it less painful for the fella who's lettin' you baste him.'

"I'd nodded, 'Okay,' and then I had found myself laughing. 'I can't believe you're giving me tips on how to butt-fuck in prison.'

"'Just lookin' out for my little bro,' he'd laughed back."

Rob chuckled as I put away my toolbox before observing, "The bit he said about not masturbating while being anally penetrated is interesting. I've always stimulated myself when I've been in that position – ever since the first time I let another man use me like that – and I think your brother is right: it really does make it pleasurable."

I smiled over at him. "Maybe you wouldn't have become such an addict if you hadn't tossed yourself off while your arse was being shagged."

"Quite so," he smiled back. "Anyway, your conversation might have been awkward but I think it's rather sweet that your brother wanted to share what he knew about institutional sex with you."

I started undoing the clamps on the Black and Decker Workmate I'd been using to hold the tile, but Rob stopped me.

"Whoa! Come on, Edward. Surely we can think up some additional uses for that, er, contraption..."

I looked over at him, initially confused, but when saw his cheeky smirk and the bulge that had developed to one side of his fly, I grinned back and said, "Yeah, I reckon we can."

He looked over at the toolbelt hanging up on the wall behind me and suggested I put it on.

As I did so as he hitched his trousers back down and bent over the Workmate to expose his round, inviting arse. His butt crack gaped open so I could see his big puffy arse ring protruding from thick forest of hair in his crack. I loved how it was still oozing a white trickle of the spunk I'd earlier shot up it and I pulled my cock out through the fly of my jeans, now fully hard and with the exposed purple head looking bulbous and shiny.

Before I entered him I remembered that I had a hard hat somewhere and said I could fish it out for him to wear.

"Oh yeah! Go for it, mate!" he called over his shoulder enthusiastically. "You can be the horny workman and I can be your eager apprentice, keen to satisfy in every way I can."

So that was how I rogered him for the second time that afternoon: the two of us pretending we were a builder and his boy.

And as I fucked him rough and hard and he was wanking himself as fast as he could, I realised that Brian had been right: bashing at your dick as you're having your bum shagged really must it make it feel so good that you want it more. Which had been a good thing for me in the cell, because once I'd started banging Derek his hand had gone straight to his prick and that had sure as fuck made him come to enjoy it.

===

"So what happened the first night you and Derek got together?" Rob asked as he watched me picking out the pieces of broken tile from behind his bathroom sink.

In the end it had been easier for me just to agree to do the job for him. I'm not an odd-job man – I'm a fucking project manager for Christ's sake – but there was no way he was going to be able to do it himself and it meant I got a ride on his arse before and after doing the job.

I'd done him bending over the bathtub as a nice little warm-up; if all went well I planned to shag him in the shower once I'd finished the grouting.

"There's not much to say," I told him. "It was over pretty quickly."

"Oh come on," he insisted. "It must have been quite a significant moment."

"Not really," I laughed. "It wasn't like some romantic gay wedding night with rose petals scattered about and those little Ikea candles flickering around us. I just got on his bunk behind him, buggered him roughly for about two minutes and then shot off up his arse. Asked him if he was okay, which he said he was, and then went back to my bunk to get some sleep."

"Aw, it's like a fairy-tale," Rob crooned ironically.

I chuckled, using my screwdriver to clear the last bits of debris from the hole, and he asked, "But why then? What happened to make you do it on that particular night?"

"I'd been rock hard in my bunk for about four nights before we did the deed," I explained. "After Brian's visit, I'd thought a lot about what he'd said and I kind of knew that as far as having sex with Derek, it was a case of 'when' rather than 'if'.

"I didn't know how to broach the subject, though. It's not like you can say to a guy when the two of you are stripping down for bed, 'Are you up for having your butt fucked tonight?' I just had no idea how to go about asking for it.

"I thought of talking about it with Miles – asking him how him and Phil had come to their arrangement – but he'd made it clear that it wasn't a subject for discussion and to be honest that would have been even worse than just coming out with it with Derek."

"So how did you let him know you were up for it?" Rob asked, watching from the doorway as I started cutting the new tile to fit into place.

"I didn't have to say anything," I replied over the noise of the hacksaw. "He could see I had the mother of all hard-ons and it was obvious that, like Brian had said, rubbing it after lights-out just wasn't doing it for me. I was trying to whack myself off when I could but in spite of how horny I felt, my hand was no substitute for what I wanted to feel.

"I was lying there in my bunk that night, listening to other men on our corridor using each other for sex, trying to rub one out under my blanket but having zero success.

"I glanced over at Derek and saw him watching me. Like mine, his fist was pounding away under his blanket – it looked like he was struggling to jazz off too.

"It was just so distracting trying to do it in the cell. The noises from the other blokes who were at it that night seemed amplified somehow. All the bedframes squeaking, the sounds of hips against arses, all the panting and the grunting seemed really loud. And then there was a screw shouting stuff in at them, laughing at what they looked like humping like dirty pigs.

"I was so horny it was painful but I just couldn't get relief.

"I looked back over at Derek's bunk and saw he'd got on top of it, bending down all fours in his underwear. He saw me looking at him and pulled the back of his Y-fronts down, baring for me his white, flabby arse. I could use it if I wanted to, that's what he was letting me know; I could try to think of it as a pussy if that's what I needed.