This doesn’t mean he can’t let off some steam.And relieving himself isn’t going to compromise his future plans.
He scoots his hips back creating a space between them so he can put his hand down his own pants. Manoeuvring around to lay the thin scratchy sheet over the top of both of them, throwing a glance at the dark form unmoving on the other bunk. Reni’s back is to them and the soft snores are an indication he won’t be a problem.
Back to the task at hand, Sinn'ous props himself up on his elbow. The cloggingdarkness in the cell hides most of Izz’s finer detail, but not the curve of his body, the slackenedsoftness of his lips—an allure he is tempted to take, to kiss his way into that enticing mouth.
Sinn'ous shoves his pants under his balls, freeing his cock he strokes it in languidpulls. Staying as close to the boy as he can without touching, so he doesn’t accidentally jostle him awake. Not that he believes that to be a possibility, the boy could sleep through an explosion set off in the same cell.
He takes his time. Prolonging the pleasure. His skin tingles, sending shivers racing to his heart. Each pump of blood from the organ is sent straight to his cock, creating a wave of lightheaded pressure in his skull. Electricity races down his spine to join the slickslide of his hand down his cock. The only lubehe has is the precum beading from his slit. Sticky and not quite enough to staveoff the mild chafing.
Stuck on a cliff of no return. He has no intention of stepping back from its edge, he will take the leap—parachute be damned—and plummet down to whatever hard stop waits below.
A sucked in breath is the only outward noise to signal his collapse into oblivion. Internally his wires are flaring to life, sparking white hot light over his eyes, clouding his vision to the point where he can see the pleasure he feels. Describing it as a toe-curling orgasm is not appropriate, and yet it’s exactly what he is experiencing. Right down to the spasms of his thigh muscles locking up tight.
He might have been shot in the chest. It’s the only way to explain the shortness of breath, and racing of his heart. The burn coursing through his veins, and into his chest cavity. And the resounding tingles it produces in his limbs.
Vision flirting back to him. He is able to catch his spunkin hand, wringing the last drops into his cupped palm. Body crashing and burning. A heavy layer of exertion blanketing him. In a way one would describe as medically induced fatigue. Like his body has been dumped full of paralysing drugs.
And through it all, his cock is still raging on. Hard as granite. Like he hadn’t just cum his soul out his dick.
Now comes a new issue—nowhere to place his cum. And he isn’t about to get up, not when that means leaving Izz alone in the bunk. Even if it would only be for a minute. Scrunching his nose he makes the sacrifice—licking his own hand clean. It’s a little bitter but overall not so bad. He sucks each individual finger into his mouth, then curls around Izz’s back and slipshis still wet hand past the boy’s waist band to go back to cupping his flaccid cock. It chubs a little when Sinn'ous repositionsinto a better position, but doesn’t do anything further. And Sinn'ous does nothing to encourage the growth, he lies silent and unmoving behind Izz, going right back to watching the boy sleep.
He’s so engrossed in his observationsthe alarm startles him enough to hitch his breath. He usually isn’t one to neglect situational awareness.
Sandstone Correctional livens in an instant. Voices rising and falling, echoing through the peaceful place where he’d been holding his possession in his arms.
Turning shows that Reni is also awake, on his side facing Sinn'ous, and glaring hatred which is easily ignored. It’s a nuisance which is little more than a fly to swat away.
64
SINN'OUS
“Your lawyer is here to see you.” Rogers is right off the bat this morning. The cell door has only just cracked open.
It’s the news he’s been waiting for. This meeting is one he won’t be taking alone. It’s finally time to introduce Izz to Zayne’s lawyer and his ticket out. About time he shows Izz exactly how good he can have it if he does whatever Sinn'ous commands.
Rogers is on the ball, by the time Sinn'ous has pissed and dressed, Izz’s already waiting by the base of the stairs. The boy is nervously chewing at the sleeve of his prison jacket. The morning is chilled and rigid even in the heated Wing. Not that the heating is worthy of any awards, it’s still better than nothing, but not by much. He’s sure the prison board only invested in heating to calm the beasts they keep against their will. Same reason the showers run warm. Keep the murderers happy so they don’t show up at your door when they get out. Not that that would stop Sinn'ous should he choose to kill one of them.
He’s not one step down and CO Nolan Thomson is already leading Izz into the corridor. While the Wing continues to be slowly filled by men either wide awake or shuffling around half asleep. There is no in-between.
And he joins them, escorted by Rogers to K-Wing, where he places his hands at the small of his back without prompt. The cuffs go on, and they’re moving on to the collection of doors to work their way through. Their destination is the private visitation room where Charles Bennett will be waiting.
They make it to the final door, and are stopped by a guard coming from the opposite direction. He’s left standing therewhile a guard, he can’t recall the name of, runs a conversation past Rogers. Some issues in H-Wing, something relating to medical and extra staff needed. He tunes it out, waiting impatiently to be let through the last door, which the unnamed guard had to go and shut when he entered here.
Fucking finally. He inwardly curses, when the last door is unlocked.
This private room isn’t the one he’s been given the other times he’s seen Charles Bennett, but you would not be able to tell it by sight alone. They’re identical, he only knows it’s a different room because they passed two doors to get here instead of one.
When Sinn'ous enters he is greeted by the sight of Izz and the lawyer sitting across from each other at the metal table. The conversation they’d been in coming to a pause.
Charles Bennett stands, offering Sinn'ous his hand. “Sinn'ous.” He greets, his tailored suit as immaculate as it’s been for every meeting. And the air of arrogance circling him is one Sinn'ous begrudgingly respects, because the lawyer gets results.
Sinn'ous takes the hand, gives it a firm shake, then drops the grip, diving straight into things. “Did you tell him.”
Izz’s seated at the table, shell-shocked and picking at his nails, pointedly not looking over at Sinn'ous.
What are you thinking about boy?
“I have informed my client of his case’s progress.”
