Straight Boy (Straight Guys 0.50)

Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. Slowly, she nodded.

“Your time is up,” the guard said, walking to him.

Sage hung up and let the guard lead him away, his heart heavy.

He told himself it was for the best. Laura wouldn’t have wanted him anyway if she found out what had been going on.

It was for the best.

* * *

It became a routine. Every time they were in the showers, Xavier slipped a finger into him, and by the end of the month, Sage was so used to it Xavier’s finger met no resistance. Actually… he started feeling like one finger wasn’t enough. He kind of wanted more. And he really wanted to come, but he refused to jerk off with Xavier’s finger in him. He refused to give Xavier the satisfaction.

Sage hated him. He hated him and hated that lately it had come to the point that he got half-hard when they got to the showers. Hated that he got rock hard the moment Xavier’s finger touched his asshole. Hated that he started squirming on Xavier’s finger.

Hated that he wanted more.

Sage was so sexually frustrated lately that he felt like punching someone. Preferably Xavier.

He broke two weeks later.

They were in the showers again. Sage had his forehead pressed against the wall while Xavier dragged his finger in and out of his hole. It was too slow and Sage couldn’t stand it. He pushed back, moaning when Xavier’s finger rubbed hard against his prostate. People were watching them, but Sage couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too far gone to care.

He whimpered when Xavier pushed another slick finger in and started fucking him with them. It felt good. So good. Sage closed his eyes and, wrapping his hand around his cock, started jerking off. He tried to think about his girlfriend, but Xavier’s big hand stroking his stomach and ass made it impossible. He had a man’s fingers in his ass and he was loving it. But right now, he didn’t care how wrong and dirty—and gay—it was.

Sage groaned when Xavier’s fingers started moving faster. He wanted to come. He was burning with it. He stroked his cock, small moans leaving his lips as Xavier tortured his prostate. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. But god, it felt so good.

Xavier shoved a third finger in, and the burn made Sage cry out and come, shaking with his entire body, his knees barely holding him up.

When Sage opened his eyes, the realization of what had just happened hit him hard: He came with Xavier’s fingers inside him. Another man had made him come. And everyone saw it.

Dazedly, Sage jumped away from Xavier. He soaped himself all over, trying to ignore the catcalls.

He refused to look at Xavier.

* * *

They didn’t talk about it.

Sage ignored Xavier, and Xavier let him ignore him.

Next time they were in the showers, Sage tensed, expecting Xavier to push his fingers in again, but he didn’t.

It threw Sage off-balance.

He told himself he was glad—and he was. Being fingered in public was beyond mortifying.

He was glad.

* * *

A few weeks went by, and all Xavier did was fondle him a little. Sometimes, he kneaded Sage’s ass and massaged his hole, but he never pushed his fingers in anymore. The worst part was, Sage still got an erection even when Xavier’s hand barely touched his ass.

It confused him and made him angry—with himself. And it annoyed him that Xavier constantly walked around shirtless. A show-off.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” Sage snapped one evening.

Xavier just looked at him for a long moment, his eyes gleaming. “It never bothered you before.”

Sage scowled.

The assessing look Xavier gave him made him uncomfortable.

“What?” Sage said.

“Do you want something, Sage?”

Sage. His own name sounded strange. Xavier usually called him something ridiculous, knowing how much it annoyed him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sage turned onto his stomach, determined to ignore him.

But Xavier didn’t let him ignore him.

He tensed when he felt Xavier sit on his bunk next to him.

A big hand touched his butt.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Xavier’s voice was quiet.

Sage wet his lips. “No.”

A finger slipped under his shorts and stroked between his cheeks gently. “You sure about that?”

“I’m straight.”

“Do you want me to touch you?” Xavier repeated, as though he hadn’t said anything.

Sage bit his lip and remained quiet.

Probably taking it as a yes, Xavier pulled his shorts down.

It isn’t happening, Sage told himself. It couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t lying on a prison bunk while his cellmate groped and spread his cheeks.

It was really happening.

Sage bit the inside of his cheek when Xavier’s finger circled his twitching hole. Then there was something wet pressing against his hole. Sage went rigid. A tongue. Xavier was licking his hole.

Flushing, Sage whispered, “What are you doing—it’s disgusting—” And gay.

Sage tried to push Xavier’s head away from his ass, but Xavier just gripped his buttocks hard and, spreading his cheeks, forced his tongue in.