This will be the 1st story I write. I do not usually share this with people and as you read on you will have an idea why.
I’m in one of the Carolinas. My last name is called. I’m happy! I’m ready to get back on the road and finally get to where I need to be. My anxiety in this cell block shared with 18 other dudes was taxing. It was always hot, the lights were always on, when it got time to go to sleep it got cold, etc. My tub of belongings are presented to be near the bathroom. I ditch my orange top and pants and hop into the clothes I’ve been wearing since the start of my extradition. My anxiety will not fade. This is because I do not know what type of ride this will be; how uncomfortable will it be, what type of men I’m going to be riding with, how many more stops until I finally get to the jail where I will be dropped off in. Three other dudes were called out with me, meaning, so far four people will be added to this van or bus I can only imagine how many men are already on. After shackling our wrists and ankles, we are escorted to the garage. The door is open for our upcoming voyage to God knows where. I can see that it is night out. I thought it would be. It’s a van that we will be hopping into. Now the question is, how full is it already? One of the two correctional officers opens up the back double-doors. After that he unlocks the third door. It’s a steel door that between to metal re-enforced walls. Because you can’t just have one set of doors keeping shackled men from trying anything crazy; you have to have two, right? Of the four adding to this ride, there are already two men in here. The van should only have five at maximum. I go in second. my preference is sitting next to the doors. But being that there is two more men coming in after me i take a seat towards the rear of one of the two benches, next to a man who sits at the end of the van, that being, the side most towards the front of the van. The set-up: two steel benches aligned with the side panels of the van’s rear bed. If there was any light in the van, it would be three men looking across at the faces of three other men. Our feet all share the same floor space.
What I have on is my jacket tied around my waist, a tank-top, sneakers, and jogging pants. Am sitting with my hands on my lap. Before we know it we are on the road again. Some chatter starts among the guys. Questions like, where was the van before coming to get us, how long have the other men been on this van, where we are each all headed, and so on. I quiet and just listening as I usually do. The guy to my left chimes in a little here and there about this or that. I am able to tell that he is sitting with his forearms rested on his lap because I come to feel the back of one his fingers on my tricep. In time he grows quiet and doesn’t talk to the other guys. One of his fingers start moving up and down on my tricep. I’m still quiet but my inner voice is responding “whhuut? Nah this dude just doesn’t have a sense of what social norms are. You’re reading into this. Guy is fucked in the head from his history of hard drug use, he doesn’t know what he’s doing”.
The up and down motion starts to become more pronounced compared to how it subtly started. Then one finger turns into two. Eventually its his four knuckles brushing up and down on my arm. “I’m not imaging this”, I think to myself. I am still giving this dude zero response. I remembered a little bit how he looked before the van’s doors were closed. I would say 5’11, in the 40s, salt and pepper hair parted in the middle that leveled to his temples. Clean shaven but was starting to get stubby, toned, white, thick brows. Not a bad looking guy. “Dude I’m just here for these people to drop me off at my designated spot” is a response I voice in my mind. What I’m trying to say is my mind is not on fucking around when I’m in custody of law enforcement. Now I’m not saying that I wasn’t enjoying this attention I was getting but my resolve was that I would be passive in this interaction.
Though most of us have been sleeping or lounging all day, seeing that it had been night time when we got on the bus we all started to do the smart thing and simmer down to start and get some rest before our next stop. We are all cramped. It’s times like these where I thank God that He made me a small man. The other men are starting to get irritated with the condition. One of them eventually squats to sit on the floor with his legs laying out in front of him. “Yo just put your feet on me. I don give a fuck”. My legs are on one of his thighs. Another guy comments on what a good idea it was for him to do that.
Now the flirt next to me who had been rubbing my arm suggests that two men can share the floor and the other four can share the benches in pairs of two. The guy on my right, who had commented on the dude who was already sitting on the floor of what a great Idea it was, slides himself down, shimming next to the feet of the guy who was already laying on the floor.
He directs me to sit with back to the wall that aligns with the doors so that I am looking towards the front of the van and he does the same on the opposite side. Our legs are sprawled in front of us with each of us having one of each others’ legs between our own. After everyone has shuffled themselves as comfortable as they can get, it gets quiet again. In time- we’ll call him Tennessee- Tennessee starts to get careless with his foot that is between my legs and softly rubs my semi-hard dick with the bottom of his foot. He managed to take both his shoes off. He’s enjoying it. Of course I get all the way hard and his next step is to replace his foot with his torso. So with some shuffling, he realigns himself and is now head resting on my quads and pelvis. He reaches inside my pants and puts my dick in his mouth. I help him out and pull down my pants a little bit more. If we weren’t in this van with four other men there would be slurping. Now the most noise that is coming out from this is the noise of his swallows and his quiet breath. I can feel his hard cock with my left leg. The van stops and he lets go of my dick covers my front with my pants. Shit, are we stopping somewhere? Am sure he was thinking the same thing. The van accelerates back to its previous speed. He pulls my pants out the way and goes to work; sucking hard as one might when they have limited use of their hands, and bobbing rhythmically while still being stealthy. I start to thrust into him. I can feel his nose on my lower abdomen and chin my sack. My thrusts follow in style, rhythmic and with passion but in quiet, I am fucking his mouth. I feel is breath when he eases up for a break. This situation has taken over me and i continue my slow quiet thrust even when he is taking a small breather, letting him know I am ready for him to continue, and he does. I let myself get lost only a little in how hot this all is: in the dark, shackled, a taboo on a taboo, only inches from other men, eyes closed or plain aloof in pitch black darkness to these men helping each other out during this trying quest we are all on. I’m known to be a silent cummer. I do get loud occasionally but in this moment a reaction like that is out of the question. My heart rate does the talking but my breath stays controlled. I continue my thrusts until i explode in his mouth and fade into slower thrusts. Being the smooth criminal he is, he sucks and swallows it all up leaving not a trace.
He sits up and settles back to sitting with his back to his side of the end of the bench that we are sharing. My foot is playing with the hard-on he has under his pants. Before I even let myself think if I will be returning the favor the speed of the van slows down. In time we are able to tell that we are off the highway and probably heading into town for our next stop. The other men get the sense too and start to wake up from their slumbers. It’s graveyard-shift-time. We are at our next institution. Will will be sleeping here or just dropping off? The van doors open and we are let out. We are taken into intake of this jail where we have arrived. I ask one of the guards where are we and he says Tennessee. I get a look at Tennessee- my ride-buddy. We exchange discrete glances at one another. I look to him more and more to try and get his attention to talk to him but he’s playing it too cool. Sadly I see that this is his stop. Him and two other men are taken in for processing. Hmm. And just like that we are heading our separate ways. FUCK. Dam it would have been good to get his info! I don’t even know his name. I and an altered group of men are escorted back to the van to continue our trip.
Every time I think of this encounter I get hard.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/fw02t4/shackled_wrists_and_ankles_mm