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Confiscated Porn #1 [MultiFormat]
eBook by William Maltese

eBook Category: Erotica/Gay Fiction
eBook Description: Eighteen and behind bars. Erotic vignettes. ... answers all of the questions you'll ever have about what goes on, sometimes before, mainly after, young men are incarcerated by the legal system behind confining razor-wire fences, steel bars, and locked doors. Are the horror stories of detention true? Are the non-consentual sexual encounters that frequent? Are the police and prison guards cruel and corrupt? Is true love never found among inmates? Short of becoming eighteen and being jailed by society, you likely won't ever get as close to the truth as these insightful and erotic Maltese vignettes take you. All characters in this series are 18 years or older.

eBook Publisher: MLR Press, LLC/MLR Press, LLC
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2012




Head Librarian Notes

regarding confiscated pornography (File 421.66)

from Building 4, Cellblock 43, Cell 14

occupants Steven Wiles (MBR2604), Torbit Crane (MBR 2605)

during shakedown.

MALTESE BOYS' REFORMATORY

21 January 2012

We're still not sure what's the latest method by which inmates continue to successfully smuggle contraband, including pornographic reading material, into the Reformatory. Likely, though, it's to do with increased visitations, since shakedowns after any holiday invariably turn up more than at other times of the year; this year, 2012 (following the 2011 end-of-year season), was no exception.

Once again, I'm impressed by the quality of some of the pornography gathered up by such sweeps, including the attached File 421.66, as if written by talented people who would do as well writing regular fiction for a more general readership than for the young men incarcerated here. There are never any author designates; fingerprint and dried semen analysis, when and if done, invariably indicate only members of the Reformatory population; although it's doubtful any of them could likely pen such material and access the equipment necessary to get it published, let alone distributed, without garnering official attention.

The prison psychiatrist and I, once again, have recommended that leaving such reading material to circulate freely among the Reformatory population might prove more beneficial that seizing it; easing of sexual tensions known to arise so quickly as result of well-recognized overactive teenage libidos might best be served by masturbation rather than by less savory avenues. Once again, though, while our suggestion has been duly noted, it has been rejected, and will likely continue to be so for as long as the majority of the Reformatory Oversight Committee, as well as the State's Governor, remain predominately conservative. Until then, my assistant and I shall continue to inventory the confiscated reading material and make it available only to authorized personnel.

* * * *

Gerald Fandext

Head Librarian

Maltese Boys' Reformatory

* * * *
* * * *

File 421.66

Paul rolled to his back and felt Kevin's cum leak from his asshole. He sat up on the bed and gave Kevin a smile. It had been as good a fuck as it had been unexpected.

Paul got up and returned his impressive nakedness to concealment inside his bellboy uniform.

"Think you might be back, later?" Kevin asked.

"I can certainly try," Paul answered; Kevin wasn't the first hotel guest with whom he'd ever screwed around. However, he actually doubted, very much, that he'd return any time that particular evening. Too bad, too, because Kevin could really pump ass the way Paul liked his ass pumped. Still, The Jergen Gate Band was checked in, now, and that would probably mean any additional sex for Paul that evening would occur in one of the hotel's VIP suites.

The cart that Paul had wheeled in was now in the middle of the room. He went to it, lifted the chilled champagne in its bucket and transferred the two to the nearby tabletop. "Compliments of the management," he said, flashing Kevin, for not the first time that evening, a very appealing dimple-producing smile.

"Better not leave that," Kevin warned, "if it'll see you catching hell."

"Won't be me who catches it," Paul said. "It says right here on the delivery slip that I'm to drop off this bottle of complementary champagne to Room 1102."

"But I'm not the lead guitarist for The Jergen Gate Band," Kevin reminded.

"You know you're not the lead guitarist, and I know you're not the lead guitarist, but someone on staff doesn't seem to know their ass from a hole in the ground. If some silly bastard can't give me the right room number for a delivery, then this hotel deserves to be out one bottle of its cheap rot-gut booze."

Actually, Paul had known the minute the sleep-disgruntled Kevin had opened the door that there had been a mistake. Paul knew the intended recipient, Scott Jacobs, very well, indeed. The band always stayed at the hotel when it had a gig in the city. However, Paul's knowledge of the error hadn't kept him from feigning ignorance. He was as appreciative of a handsome man with an exceptional body as was the next guy, and Kevin's good looks and A-one physique had just been too good to resist.

Paul left, and Kevin decided to take a quick shower before heading back to bed. He was amused when his cock grew hard within the shower spray and beneath the caress of his fondling soaped fingers. But, then, he'd always been quick to recover after sex. The more he fucked, in fact, the hornier he always seemed to get. That was one reason he'd hated to see Paul leave so soon.

He contemplated masturbation, and, then, decided against it. After all, Paul had said he would try to get back. It would have been a shame to waste any sperm, now, even if there was plenty more where that came from.

He was drying off when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it might be Paul, back earlier than either of them had expected, he didn't bother doing any more, by way of cover-up, than wrapping his middle with a fresh towel.

It wasn't Paul.


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