Copyright 2022 -- Daemon D. Hart
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In It For Life is the sequel to Prison Island, so if you haven't read that story, you might not understand what's going on here.
You can find Prison Island, here on Nifty, at this link: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/prison-island/
The story starts with Francesco looking for Mouse in all possible places, while he has no idea where Karl is, either.
In It For Life
"Ahab," Francesco said slowly. "Yes, like in the book. No, I don't know the last name. C'mon, lady, it's not like there could be a lot of people named Ahab." Ah, shit, he needed to control himself. "Sorry about that, really am. It's just that he's an old friend, and I don't know how to find him."
Two years after he had left that godforsaken island, and he was still searching for Mouse in prisons all over the country. A lot of people didn't want to give him that kind of information over the phone, so he needed to bend over backwards to go on trips and see those people face to face only to beg them to release a type of information that they weren't supposed to give away to any stranger off the street.
So far, no success. Francesco had found work at a car workshop, and it paid the bills. He lived in a small rented studio not far from it, and everything he made and didn't have to go to paying living expenses went into his trying to find Mouse.
Where the hell had Mouse been taken? After all that time, Francesco still recalled that last day on the island to the last detail. And how the hell had he been so stupid never to ask Mouse for his full name? Not that he had asked the others, and none had asked him, either.
Funny how time had a way to put things in perspective, he thought as another negative answer was delivered to him via the phone. In a way, Karl had kept his promise. And in another, he hadn't. Mouse had been on the chopper with them on the day of their departure. Only that he hadn't been released to walk free in the world -- Karl's words, not his. No, instead, he had been put in a prison somewhere, and Francesco needed to find where that prison was so that he could go to him.
He ran his hands over his face. Was he some delusional fuck to continue his search after all this time? Two years felt like a lot compared to his age of twenty now, but each day, he woke up with hope that it would be the one when he would find Mouse.
Karl would have such a laugh if he had ever learned that during all this time, for two years straight, Francesco hadn't fucked anyone. Well, at least, not anyone living and breathing, he thought and pulled his dildo from the drawer. He stared at it for a moment. He had basically chosen it because it looked like it had been modeled after Karl's dick.
The fucker would think that was romantic or some shit. But Francesco thought only that at least physically wise, Karl must have ruined him for all cocks in existence. Sure, he would have liked a hard throbbing cock in his ass, at least now and then, but he hadn't found it in himself to go ahead and do it.
He winced at first and then exhaled as he pushed the thing through his well lubed asshole. To think that he had been fucked so hard before when Karl took him whenever it struck his fancy, in all possible ways, and now he took his time with preparing his ass to take the silicone toy.
Not that guys didn't want to get with him. At least a few times, when he had been aware, some dudes had given him the eye, but Francesco had just turned his head. He didn't go clubbing, or drinking, or anything that other twenty-somethings did. He was just living and hoping.
And fucking himself with that Karl's dick lookalike made from synthetic materials. It was enough to close his eyes and remember all of Karl's hard fucking which the fucker also called loving, and he would come like a hose, over and over again.
Strange enough, he didn't jerk off thinking of fucking Mouse a lot. Sure, if he did his best to remember those times he had been with both of them, that got him going and he could go at it like there was no tomorrow. He had tried to use two dildos at once, a second longer and slender, but it had been too painful. Silicone toys were nothing like the real thing, so he gave up on the idea.
But he did think of all the good times he had had with Mouse. The way they had used to spend half the night kissing and fooling around. That was something deeper than fucking. And it also kind of hurt, so that was a reason not to go there too often.
Not that he wasn't tempted to think of his good ones with Karl, too, but he was stopping himself from doing so. With Mouse, he still had a chance, no matter how slim. Even though he had been the idiot to put the guy in the slammer, by not knowing how to strike a proper deal. With Karl, well, there was nothing there.
Karl had been clear. And while Francesco had always suspected that Karl would be forced to forget about him either way, the fact that he had chosen to do so on his own accord still hurt. The road was closed there. And that time, the other boys couldn't tell him why Karl had gotten so pissed.
Francesco could imagine. Karl had told him that it made him worry whenever Francesco wandered off. And that day, just as they were about to leave the island, he had disappeared completely. Karl must have gone nuts.
"You'll always be the best, fucker," Francesco murmured to himself as he wiped his belly.
He grabbed the remote and left the TV on some news channel, as he began to prepare his dinner. It was a lonely life, but it didn't bother him. For a while, his colleagues at the car shop had tried to rope him in their drinking and clubbing, but he had always said no'. The guy who owned it knew Francesco had done time, but he had been surprisingly accommodating, something along the lines of don't ask, don't tell'.
His relations with his mom were cold at best, as she knew that he was behind why his stepdad had had to be hospitalized that time and he had been away. Of course, she had no idea why Francesco had put the asshole in there, and she would never know, he had decided.
His eyes traveled to the TV once in a while, something about floods, a war somewhere, or the new wave of crime. He could always switch to something more entertaining. But just as he reached for the remote, his hand froze on it. He pumped the volume up, although it was the picture displayed on the screen that had drawn his attention.
"The senator," the anchorwoman's piercing voice said, "was seen in a rare outing with his son."
Senator. Son. Now that made a whole lot of fucking sense. Francesco hadn't seen him in two years, but he looked just as handsome as then, or even more now that he was dressed in a suit and had his hair nicely brushed and styled in a modern undercut.
But the look on his face in the pic stolen apparently by some daring paparazzi was that of complete boredom mixed with frustration. His head was cocked slightly toward his father who was explaining something to him by the way he was gesticulating. Francesco doubted Karl was happy to listen to his dad droning about whatever.
"Motherfucker," he whispered.
"The senator always talked about how his son would not develop a sense of entitlement if he were kept away from the public life," the anchorwoman continued. The picture zoomed out, and now the woman turned toward a guest she had there with her. "But now, it looks like things are about to change."
"Yes, indeed," the guest said, a political analyst by what it was written under his name. "We have it on good authority that we'll be hearing wedding bells soon."
"So the embargo on Karl's appearances in public will finally end?" the anchorwoman asked.
"Yes, he's marrying up if that's possible for a senator's son," the guest replied and smiled. "And the bride will surely be keen on public appearances."
"What do we even know about Karl?" the woman continued.
Francesco hated how she said his name, like she knew him from Adam. She had no idea who Karl was, who he really was.
"Not much. His father, the senator," the guest continued, "has always taken care that Karl would receive the best education."
"He's been in the military, right?"
"As far as we know. It is the senator's view that a military education shouldn't be amiss from the formation of a real man."
"A real man," the anchorwoman repeated and smiled smugly. "Karl surely is one. And he'll make a very handsome groom."
The guest smiled politely. "Without a doubt."
Francesco no longer listened. So, Karl was getting married. No surprises there, and he had expected that much. He didn't dwell on the dark pit slowly opening inside his stomach at that thought and focused on the importance of the new findings.
If there was someone in the world who knew where Mouse was, it had to be Karl.
It took him little to find where the senator had his offices, but getting there and gaining entrance into the building had been a totally different thing. He stepped in and looked around dazed with the realization that he had practically served as a fuck toy for a senator's son for almost an entire year on a prison island lost in the middle of the ocean.
He would go in there and tell some big fat lie about how he was an old friend of Karl's. The chances were slim that the senator would simply receive him, and he counted more on snatching a phone number from one of the many secretaries who hurried to and fro in their pencil skirts. It wasn't like he wanted to make eye contact with Karl's dad. In those pictures on TV, he looked like a cold bastard.
"Francesco?"
He turned his head at the familiar voice and smiled. Morgan walked over to him, with a wary look in his eyes. He was dressed in a suit and he had an ear piece which he had taken off and let it hang over the collar of his dress shirt.
"Morgan," he said and fought the instinct to run into the man's arms. He needed to get a grip. This wasn't the island, and people didn't care about being remembered of some young convict having sucked their cock and put his ass up for them once. "I'm not here to make trouble," he said right away. "I just need to find Mouse," he added quickly.
Morgan nodded and leaned in once they were close. "Go to the fast food place across the street. Wait for me in the bathroom. I'll be with you in ten, okay?"
Francesco nodded quickly and turned on his heels. Maybe he was imagining things, but he could swear Morgan had grabbed his ass for like a second or something. The familiar jolt of desire pooled in his crotch at that simple touch. It had been so long since he had felt it after being touched by another human being.
Morgan was good on his word. Francesco had barely been in the bathroom after ordering something and leaving the food untouched on one of the tables for a few minutes when the man entered. The place wasn't crowded, and that helped because no one else was in there, wondering what he was doing, loitering around like that.
The man touched his cheek gently and looked into his eyes. Francesco didn't say a word and just grabbed Morgan to pull him in one of the stalls.
"Francesco," Morgan whispered, half-reproaching, half-wanting.
He remained silent as he took the man's cock out and stuffed his mouth with it.
"Sexy boy," Morgan let out and made no attempt to stop him.
Francesco moaned around the big hard cock in his mouth. Morgan tasted just as good as he remembered. He wasn't Karl, but he'd make do, especially after being so sex-starved for far too long.
Morgan grunted and grabbed him by the back of the head. Then he began to pump his cock hard and fast down Francesco's throat. It was like riding a bicycle, deepthroating that was. He almost choked once but reined in the sensation and buried his face into Morgan's crotch, letting the pubes scratch his skin slightly.
He pulled back and stuck his tongue out. Morgan continued to hold his head and pumped his cock, shooting mostly in his mouth, but some over his face, too. The cum was tasty on his tongue, and he gobbled it all down.
"Fuck, kid," Morgan whispered as he pushed his cock back into his pants. "Still so fucking hot."
"What do you mean, still?" Francesco glared as he wiped his face, but then snickered. "I haven't had a cock down my throat in two freaking years. Thanks for the meal, daddy," he said playfully and winked at Morgan.
The man caressed his head and grabbed a tissue to wipe some cum off his face he must have missed. "For real?" Morgan asked in a whisper. "How come boys and men leave you alone, Francesco?"
"I'm not in prison anymore. These guys expect me to want it. They don't just come and take it. I guess that I just don't want it from them."
Morgan snorted and shook his head.
Francesco placed his hands on Morgan's thighs and looked up pleadingly. "Do you know where Mouse is, Morgan? What prison?"
Morgan sighed. "You haven't forgotten the boy, have you?"
"No. How could I? I'm the reason he got thrown in jail. If it weren't for me, he would be free on that island, living the way he liked."
Morgan caressed his hair gently. "Ahab is not in jail."
"He's not?" Francesco's eyes shot up in surprise.
Morgan hushed him with a finger to his mouth. He nodded quickly and made a sign with lock and key over his lips. "I can't tell you much, but I'll find a way to get a message to him."
Francesco wanted to ask a thousand questions but kept his mouth shut. "Do you think he'll want to see me again?"
Morgan offered him a smile. "If he doesn't, then he must be crazy. What message should I take to him?"
"Just that I'm waiting for him. And I always will," Francesco said.
"And to Karl?"
The question surprised him. Morgan searched his face, expecting his reply. "Karl is getting married," he said simply.
"Indeed he is," Morgan confirmed.
"Don't tell him anything, not even that you saw me," Francesco said. "I told you. I don't want to make any trouble. For him, the least of all people. But I wish him a happy life. You can wish it to him from me, just don't tell him that I said it, okay?"
Morgan hesitated for a moment. "Okay. If that's how you want it."
Francesco nodded one more time. "Let me give you my address so that you can give it to Mouse."
Morgan leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I haven't had sex in a fast food bathroom since my teens. Thanks for the experience, Francesco."
Francesco grinned. "Hey, you're more than welcome. And just so you know, it was my pleasure," he said with a wink.
tbc