Brian leaned back and closed his eyes.  The trick du jour ran his tongue along the ridge of Brian's cock, before engulfing it entirely.  His dick swelled in appreciation, and his eyelids began to flutter.  The familiar tingling sensation in his balls signaled that he was close to cumming.  Even in his inebriated state, Brian knew that his quick arousal wasn't due to the blond being particularly skilled at giving blow jobs.  It was because he was imagining that it was another blond haired beauty servicing him instead.

The young man's head bobbed up and down, and Brian concentrated on the pleasurable feeling coursing through his groin.  As he arched his hips forward, he fisted a handful of golden locks. He soon exploded into the wet, eager mouth, and exhaled a sigh.  After a few seconds, his breathing returned to normal, and he glanced down at the trick who was still on his knees.  Unfortunately, this had an all too sobering effect on Brian, who abruptly pushed the young man out of the way.  The trick managed to spring to his feet and utter something to Brian about giving him a call, while he slipped a piece of paper into his pocket.  Brian turned to look him straight in the eye while he cast the paper to the ground, callously stating, "Sorry, no seconds."  He then hastily made his way out of the backroom, zipping his pants up, while leaving the disgruntled twink behind.

Justin was restless.  He couldn't fall asleep because he kept thinking.  He wondered what Brian was doing right at that moment.  What kind of life did he lead?  Did he have a wife? a boyfriend?, or maybe he had both. There was a real world outside of these prison walls, which Justin had always preferred not to remember.  He had decided not to dwell on his past, or deal with the painful reminders of his pre-prison life. But lately, Brian's tenacity was forcing him to question his choices.  

Justin could tell from Brian's designer labels, and his expensive cologne, that he had a privileged past.  Why someone like Brian chose to work in a disgusting prison perplexed him.  Justin slid his hand down the front of his underwear.  Touching himself, he thought of the tall, handsome psychologist.  He fantasized about what it would be like to kiss him, to taste him.  Justin started to stroke himself, while thinking of Brian's broad shoulders and flat stomach.  He imagined how Brian's body would react under his exploring hands.  Justin quickened the gliding motion around his member, and could feel himself on the brink of an orgasm.  Stifling a yell with his other hand to not call attention to himself, he climaxed, shuddering in relief.  With some of the sexual tension subsiding, Justin was able to transition into a peaceful slumber.

Brian cleared his throat and put eye drops in his bloodshot eyes, in preparation of the day ahead.  A guard knocked on the door, and he paused to straighten out his tie before opening it.  There stood the object of his desire looking anything but happy to be there.  Justin brushed past Brian, and plopped himself down on the couch.  Brian, slightly amused at the gall of the kid, walked to his chair, sat down and smirked.  He put on his cheeriest face, and tried to sound chipper as he said "Good morning, Sunshine."  Justin frowned and glared at him as their session was about to begin.