Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Big Bad B

Sarge B was my best Cellblock buddy in the Mid West, and I was looking forward to his annual visit to The CellBlock.

I made my way to the ***** Hotel, and, in full Langlitz and CellBlock decal, strode through the lobby. The reception and bell-boy fags droolled, some even recognising the uniform. I went straight up to B's suite.

B, a former college Hockey thug, hence his name, opened the door barechested, already in flared breeches.

"Howdie BIG MAN!!!"

"Great to see ya BULL"- I replied backslapping the copgoon.

The room was full of Cellblock uniform decal, with size 13 Dehners standing in the middle of the floor, the bed, unmade since last night's escort-fuck, covered with equipment, and the Langlitz Cellblock uniform jacket taking pride of place.

"And this is for you, big buddy", B grinned, handing over a polished wood box of limited edition large gauge cigars.

"They're this year's MonteCristo special"

"We"ll enjoy those together over a sub, bud!. And I have your Cellblock K9 badge for ya bud - to complete your other set"

"Awesome - I"ll wear that tonight".

I inspected the gars, and put five in my top Langlitz jacket while B finished his hintite trim in the marble bathroom before hooking on his Dehners, lanyard and cop shirt, cop belt, Officer Muir and gauntlets - identical to his SARGE partner.

"Here - another little surprise for ya....". B took a plastic prison restraint of his belt. "This will come in handy later". Interrogation was, after all, B's area of expertise.

"Awesome" I laughed, hooking it next to my PR24. B shrugged on the Langlitz jacket., and we took the lift down, striding back through reception, past the gathered hotel fags and ordered a cab from the confused doorman, not sure whether to salute us or call the police.

We walked straight into the Eagle good and early, and checked in the Cellblock uniform jackets. Identical in uniform shirt, gold lanyards, striped breeches, gauntlets, hintites and Officer Muirs the subs were licking their lips at the cop partners. Standing at the bar we took a good time to light the new cigars in full view of the cigarslaves that I recognised and had used.

Firstly trimming the butt end with a silver cutter (the tribute of a cigar$lave) just below where the cigar shaft straightens, I then warmed the other end with a lit match, not to ruin the delicate leaf with lighter fuel. I rolled it round over the match flame and then placed it in my mouth. Before lighting I rolled it quickly in my mouth to moisten the butt. B then obliged with a match cupping the end with his gauntlets as I rotated the Montecristo to create an even amber glow, sucking up the sweet smoke.. B repeated this ritual as we basked in the worshipful attention.

"Wanna see Fuck Alley" bud?"

"HELL YEAH - gotta see THAT. Where is it?"

"A walkway in the cruising Arch.: just stand there and subs bend down - OR OVER!!!!!" I laughed...

"B" frog-marched through the first arch, and into the second darker arch, which had a raised metal walkway round three walls, already lined up with leathermen, waiting to pick off their vics from the constant queue of subs passing by. A few already had subs kneeling before them, and one top fukking a cunt over the corner rail.

We took up side by side in the middle, enjoying our cigars. The parade of submeat suddenly increased; as we nodded to each other at the good ones. A regular bootsub who I had tipped off, knelt before B and, waiting for a nod of approval from me before sucking B's Size 13s. B. put his cigar in his mouth to reach down to unholster his already hard 9 incher, guiding the skull up to his cock. I reached out my gauntlet and ramming the skull on B's cock, which made B nod with satisfactio.n.


B grabbed the skull with both gauntlets and continued fukking with hard brutal jabs of his cocks. By this time, another bootlicker had appeared on my Dehners., kneeling under the feet of the now crowded walkway. As I looked down to force the toecap in the bootslave's mouth, a muscleboi (who I had also fukked before) appeared in front of me. Revealing his REAL fetish, he started sucking up my cigar smoke., and, then opening my copshirt, sukking my pex. As the muscleboi washed down the cigarsmoke with my pec sweat, a third sub had squeezed under the smokeslave, unzipping my breeches and blowing my inches.

B looked over, still skulling the bootlicker.. "Feeling good bud?"

Pushing the cigar sub down to my pex I replied - "Sure thing bro". Enjoying the congratulation of a bud, and the public worship of the three subs, my jizz started rising out of my balls and right into the throat of the cocksucker invisible under the muscleworshipping cigarslave. As I shot my load, the cigarwhore took the lit end of the Magnum in its mouth - a difficult manouevre as I was hard-thrusting jizz out of my cock.

After I dumped my load, I was ready to move on - maybe a spit-roast with Big B., who was loudly finishing off with the bootlicker I gave the cigar stub to the musclesub, and nodded B in the direction of the bar next door, for another cigar. We walked through the double doors into the crowded bar arch, cramming our cocks back in the breeches.


Big B was staying in the **** again. First stop this year was the ROD, which still had a secret smoking room after the ban.. (Entry ends here. Sarge D)


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