I groan as I thrust my hips fast and hard before I bend over the bitch I’m fucking and grab the rolled-up dollar bill.
Not once stopping my stride, I place the end of the roll on her chest before I snort the cocaine, and a rush hits me.
Fuck me, that is good, add in her cunt squeezing me and I’m in euphoria…
“Cage, yes, baby…” Loz moans beneath me, and I lean down and take her nipple into my mouth, biting it hard. I piston my hips, our skin slapping loudly as she thrusts up, meeting me each time and I groan with pleasure against her nipple.
“Fuck, he’s a lucky fucker…” Someone groans while another questions, “If he left his club, then why does he still go by his road name? Loz just called him Cage.”
“Probably because he hates his legal name since some bitch killed his little sister. Now shut up, I’m trying to get off,” Scar, my close ally in here grunts. I swear if I wasn’t so fucking high on cocaine right now, I’d pull away from the bitch.
I don’t like any reminder of my family, of why I’ve gone downhill so fucking quickly.
Leslie, the corrections officer or screw as all us prisoners call her, grips my hair as I bite her nipple harder. Thrusting my hips quicker, my balls tighten and the bitch screams in pleasure as her walls tighten around my cock, making me groan louder.
“Fuck, that is hot,” someone moans, but I ignore them as her cunt squeezes me while her orgasm soaks between us. I lose my rhythm as my spine tingles before I quickly pull out.
Ripping the condom off, I lean over Leslie, who lifts her head before taking my cock into her mouth. I push forward to the back of her throat and come.
Her throat tightens around my cock as she swallows, I moan loudly, keeping my hips flush with her face, enjoying the sensation. She then reaches up to grip my ass cheeks, squeezing them, despite her gag reflex kicking in.
A rush flushes through me, the sex and cocaine sending me into oblivion, and my cock twitches again, wanting another round… and fuck, if I’m not going to listen.
Growling, I pull out of Leslie’s mouth as her eyes look up at me full of lust. I grip her underneath her armpits before I twist her onto her stomach.
She gasps before releasing a moan, when I grip her hips and yank her up. Without a care in the world, I place my cock head at her asshole before thrusting in hard and fast, and she screams again with pleasure.
I hear a murmur oflucky fuckerechoing around me, but I don’t give a shit as I grab the other small packet of cocaine that she brought with her. I tip it on her slick back before I grab therolled-up dollar bill and just as I bring my hips back, I snort up the cocaine. Enjoying the rush it gives me, I thrust hard and fast, giving the bitch the pleasure of a life time.
Fuck I love prison sometimes…
***
I gently rub my thumb over my bottom lip as I eye the visitor's door. My head is pounding like I’ve gone ten rounds in the ring in the basement because of the drugs I used last night.
I mean, I did bring it on myself, but fuck, last night was a good ass night. At least half the boys here with me got a good show.
I drop my head for a moment, ignoring everyone around me, trying to brace myself for the disappointment I’ll see in my father's eyes. Just like every time he’s come to visit me, it doesn’t matter how many times I tell him not to come, he doesn’t listen.
This is my second stint since I was eighteen. The first one, the day my sister was killed, and even though that day is a blur, waking up in the slammer covered in blood and bruises, because I’d apparently picked a fight and put a guy in a coma is still forefront in my mind.
I was sentenced to a year in prison, the judge making a point because of my family background, despite the club having sway.
I ended up missing my sister's funeral, breaking my mother's heart, and spent two weeks in solitary confinement. I had lost my shit when the correctional officer at the time declined my day of leave, thinking he was this big man.
He wasn’t very big when I knocked him out, though.
The visitor's door opens, gaining my attention, and I sigh as I look up and wait. Watching people walk in before my eyes lock on with my dad.
Grief and guilt consume me and the urge for another line rushes deep inside. I try to push it back as I look behind him, andI sigh, locking eyes with Trick, the club's soon-to-be VP, and one of my best friends.
Last month, Knuckles visited, the club’s soon-to-be enforcer. The month before that, Crash, who will become the secretary and one by one each brother has come to see me, and no it doesn’t surprise me that it is the club’s future officer brothers. All men I grew up with, men who I’m closest to, those are the ones visiting, all hoping I’ll change my mind about taking over from my dad.
What does shock me is the fact that they still want me as their leader when I’m the biggest fuck up around. I mean fuck, I’m currently serving a two-year sentence, already a year and a half in for driving while under the influence, and not just alcohol, along with aggravated assault.
I’m always angry, always fucking high, so them still wanting me to take over is a joke.
“Hey, son,” Dad murmurs as he takes a seat opposite me, and I give him a nod while Trick sits next to him, looking at me intently. His eyes going to the cut above my brow.
