Rent Boys Revisited

By Sam Tudor

Published on May 2, 2023

Gay

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Ian's Story -- Part 7

Most of the guys we were in with were serving time, up to one year, for misdemeanors, most on plea bargains, and most non-violent. Whatever the rules were about secrecy about health conditions, Sargent told everyone Ricardo and I were HIV positive, the new guys were told when they arrived, and so other guys would let us blow them, or they would fuck us, but otherwise it was other HIV positive guys who bothered us for sex.

Ricardo eventually got bailed out by an understanding uncle, I was alone in my cell for a week, when a new guy got put in. Although the practice was to separate the pre-trial offenders (innocent until proven guilty but locked up non-the-less) with the guilty, Ramon, another Latino, Puerto Rican, 2nd generation, but not someone I had known in high school, but 19, and, a little guy, maybe 5' 4", 110 pounds. He was gay and scared to death of being raped. He had been found guilty of stealing a car, he was not driving, was along for the ride but still got 4 months.

Sargent Kitzke, put him in with me since he really needed protection and made it clear to him that I was HIV positive, and to me, that I was not to infect him. He was fem, and beautiful, both his face and his body, and, had been being fucked since he was 12. He became attached to me like a puppy dog would be. He was always in my shadow, which, was good, since he was protected. He was put on laundry duty along with me.

Sargent Kitzke told me about him, I promised to not do anything he did not want me to do, as much as I wanted to fuck him. I protected him, told guys he was MINE alone, and not to fuck with him, and after about a week of this, he asked why I had not fucked him.

"Because I told Sargent Kitzke I wouldn't unless it was clear that you wanted me to, and I am HIV positive."

"I want you to, especially if you can make love to me, and not just fuck me. My brother, who is straight, gave me a dozen condoms yesterday, so I think we can do it. Sargent Kitzke told him it was a good idea, there was no rule against having them."

"Consider it done. After 9 pm and lights out, we will put this blanket over the bars to the corridor, and see how we do."

At 7pm it was our shower time, we shit, and showered, and were back in our cell by 8 pm. We talked, and at 9, the bed check being done, we put up the blanket, stripped, and just looked at each other.

"Ian's getting his dick wet," was the comment from the cell across the way, followed by some "Go for it dude. "Wish it was me." "I'd do both of you", and similar comments which all died down rather quickly. I was always amazed how these macho, hetero, guys, got so interested in gay sex after a month in jail.

I kissed Ramon. It was believed that AIDS could not be transmitted by kissing, or by sucking cock, unless there was a break in the skin of the mouth or throat. And, being the top, in cock sucking, or fucking, was thought to be relatively safe. Although I had fucked dozens of guys, if not yet four score, I had kissed very few. I almost never had kissed a client, it just turned me off, not on. But, Ramon was different. He was so beautiful, small, dark, dark eyes that sparkled, an incredible smile, and, a nice compact body, small dark nips, firm pecs, bigger than you would think seeing him clothed, and an average, but thick cock, uncut, long foreskin, small hairless balls, hairless ass except in the crack, hairless chest and back, light treasure trial and light pubes.

He dropped down and put my hard cock in his mouth. He knew what he was doing. He did it well. I flipped him on the bottom bunk and took his cock in my mouth, we 69'ed very well. And very slowly, but, horny as we both were, we both came in no time at all. We cuddled for a few minutes, and then, were both hard again. He had soaped up his hole, inside, in the shower, I put on a condom, I had plenty of spit, the lube of the jail, and had no trouble getting it in. We fucked, slowly, kissed, it was really good, better than almost all of my clients, liking the person matters. Eventually we both came again, cleaned up in our little sink, and lay in the bottom bunk together for a few more minutes until sleep was about to take over. I took down the blanket and got in the top bunk for the best sleep in weeks.

At the three month mark the Public Defender's office, and I never really knew any one lawyer there, plea bargained me for "time served", and I was free, but with a conviction for a misdemeanor offense of possession of marijuana.

I was clean and sober, because I had to be, and vowed to not use again when I got out, but, like Denny and his priestly vows, it was a vow that was too easy to break.

Next: Chapter 30


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