*Continuation of a very improvised series. If anyone has any good comments, go ahead.*

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Prison has the same rhythm as any other place in the world. Especially because prisoners are usually ordinary people, just like those who walk the streets. After a few months, I was just as settled as anyone else; except for the fact that I got more than the average of my cellmates.

With the scarcity of intimate visits, which the guards withheld to save themselves the trouble of scheduling outings and because the women didn’t want to go to the miserable little rooms of the intimate wing, there were hot guys hanging around everywhere.

The problem of sex was half-solved, with a strict code that was respected almost as much as the sleeping and eating schedule. Each wing had its whores, and the guys who wanted to use a hole or find a steady ass conformed to discretion, like a well-known secret that was practiced in the little privacy the wing could offer. The prevailing machismo ensured the secrecy since more than one wanted to get it on but without it being too obvious.

During the first few months, I was regularly taken by the bald guy in my bed after the lights went out. Except when the thin guy mounted me in the showers, I kept myself a bit aloof from the sexual marketplace that circulated through the prison. The bald guy took me at night so frequently that we almost seemed like a couple, although during the day we barely saw each other. But as soon as they stopped counting in the afternoon and the lights went down, I prepared myself for the encounter. (He soon had the courtesy to let me know when he wouldn’t come to visit me).

He sneaked in through the curtains silently and spent a good while opening me up, filling me with cum, leaving me tired and peacefully sleeping until the next day.

I don’t know if the rumor spread right away that I already had a guy, but I didn’t have many approaches from other men in the wing for at least those months. Until after the first meeting with the thin guy, it seemed like the guys around me ignored me.

Then news came to me, surprising gestures, or barely concealed looks. Although most of the time I let them pass without paying attention, sometimes I took up a couple of cocks that were circulating.

The first was Ezequiel, who worked in cleaning, and maybe that’s why he could come and go at any hour from everywhere in the wing. He took advantage of class or workshop schedules to tidy up the showers, sweep the yard, and things like that. I didn’t know he was gay or that he was interested in whores, but after a while, I found him looking at me a lot, and I suspect the bald guy had told him something about my tastes.

He took me in the bathrooms one mid-morning when most had gone down to the central yard to play soccer, pinning me face down on a wet benc...