The Big Bear Bonanza: A Book of Bombastic Ball-Bulging Blokes, Boner-Braining Bros and Bulky Boulder-Bodied Bulls by Curtis Kingsmith & Calvin Freeman & Randall Eisenhorn & Phillip J. Handelson & Martin Bellevue & Bubba Marshall & Ethan Scarsdale & Hector Bugarro & Forrest Manacre & Ursula Kinkenstein

Author:Curtis Kingsmith & Calvin Freeman & Randall Eisenhorn & Phillip J. Handelson & Martin Bellevue & Bubba Marshall & Ethan Scarsdale & Hector Bugarro & Forrest Manacre & Ursula Kinkenstein [Kingsmith, Curtis & Freeman, Calvin & Eisenhorn, Randall & Handelson, Phillip J. & Bellevue, Martin & Marshall, Bubba & Scarsdale, Ethan & Bugarro, Hector & Manacre, Forrest & Kinkenstein, Ursula]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Gay & Lesbian, Gay, Sports, Fiction, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00JSS7OY0
Published: 2014-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

Cenk

I settled into life at Egemen Prison over the next few months. It was dull and monotonous, as I suppose all prisons are, more or less. The burly Turk's name was Cenk, and I continued to give him a handjob every night, under the blanket, and he slept with the cum hardening on his belly and my back. I still couldn't get past his smell and the fetid taste of his body hair, which ended up in my mouth no matter how far I tried to separate from him as we slept. There was always another man on the other side of me, usually that lean, wiry one, just as hairy as Cenk, named Temel.

I was beginning to learn a few words of Turkish, at first just commands like "stop" and "go". But gradually I got phrases like "My name is", and I discovered that Temel spoke passable English.

We spent ten hours a day working in a factory that made some sort of engine part for cars. All I did was pack the final product in boxes, alongside Temel, who was glad to have someone with whom he could practice his English.

"You understand Cenk today, no?" he asked one day. Cenk had tried to tell me something he evidently thought of as important earlier, but I couldn't figure out what he was saying.

"No. What was he going on about?"

"He say you seek forgiveness tonight," said Temel in halting English.

"What does that mean?"

Temel was quiet, as though too embarrassed to say what he was thinking. He finally grabbed his crotch and pointed to my mouth. My stomach churned as I realized what he meant.

"I thought that was a sin. Nobody does that here, you said."

"He say American men are whore-sluts in prison, so you be not upset," Temel said. "Also, is not sex for him. Not sex, not sin, is sport. Season begin. He has match and need support. Turk not wrestle with full balls." Temel patted my shoulder supportively. I didn't understand exactly he was saying, but I got the gist of what it meant. Though I was sure it would be painful and difficult, a part of me was looking forward to it as well.

When I got back to the cell, Cenk wrapped one arm around my shoulder and led me away. The guards were deferential to him, not making him put handcuffs on though they did shackle me. Since he was taller and unencumbered, he walked much faster than I and virtually dragged me along on the ground.

He brought me to the courtyard in the center of the prison, where we were given occasional recreational time in the grassy area. We stopped in a small dugout, where I saw a large metal bucket.

Cenk stripped off his prison uniform, changing into a strange pair of leather shorts, like trousers with the ankles cut off; these were called akisbet. They were very loose, barely staying up, his wide ass spilling out the top. A few other men arrived shortly, all the biggest and strongest men of the prison, changing into the same outfit.