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Ardente

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Ardente

As I walk into McManus's office, he tosses an ice pack and motions me to sit down. He looks like shit, more nervous energy then normal. I slump in the seat across from him and crush the ice pack in one hand to activate it. He waits until I put the pack on my bloodied nose before he begins talking.

"This is the third altercation between you and Beecher since he asked me to move you back into his pod. Three. Weeks. Ago. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't transfer one or both of you to Gen Pop?"

He's waiting for my response, so I take the ice pack off my nose and narrow my eyes at him. "Why *would* you transfer us with all the shit that goes down around here? A bloody nose ain't nothing."

Now he's glaring at me. I guess it ain't a good idea to point out his shortcomings. "I could give a shit about your nose Keller, it's your inability to get along for more than five minutes that I'm talking about. This time a bloodied nose, next time it could be a shank."

I grin at him. He thinks it's because I don't believe that Toby has it in him to shank me or anybody, but I'm smiling because I *know* he does.

They still see him as some unlucky schmuck out of his element in big bad Oz. McManus, Sister Pete and the others have no fucking clue what Toby is capable of. They have no idea that he's just as vicious, just as dangerous as the rest of us fucks in here. He may have learned the hard way, but he learned his lesson well.

I lean forward and lay my hands on his desk. "Beecher and me had a little tiff. So what? You try living in a little glass pod with someone 24/7 and see how long it takes before one of you is taking a swing at the other."

He's shoving things around his desk like he's looking for something, his backbone maybe. He swallows and looks directly at me, a hard expression on his face. Well as hard as McManus can manage, it looks more like he's smelling bad cheese to me. "But you see Keller, you don't get to have tiffs. This isn't Club Med. It's prison and if I have to call you or Beecher in here one more time, I will transfer *you* to Gen Pop. Is that clear?"

I nod my head yes just as the lockdown alarm sounds. Golly gee, I guess Beecher and me going a few rounds ain't the worse thing to happen in Oz today.

Now locked alone in our pod, I think back to the last fight that Beecher and me had. Night number eight of the two week lockdown. Breathing each other's air all goddamn day and night wears you down, so I admit I was a prick. I did everything I could to piss him off. He said black and I said white and I kept getting in his space. If you ever been in prison, there ain't nothing a convict values more than his personal space. Especially when you had Vern Schillinger as your very own welcome wagon.

So I invaded his and he took the bait, shoving me so hard, I ended up on my ass on the floor. Sometimes I forget just how fucking strong Toby is. He may not be a brick shithouse like me, but he's all muscle. He was breathing hard, the vein on his forehead sticking out and beating in time with his heart. His hands were balled in fists and the rage in his eyes told me he wanted nothing more than to punch the ever loving shit out of me.

Of course seeing him like that just made me hard. All I could think of was turning over and letting him fuck my ass. Of course the hacks nipped that thought in the bud. We sidestepped getting thrown in the hole that time by mere inches. But the seed had been planted. I knew I'd be pushing him again come lights out.

We weren't so lucky today. Goddamn Toby, taking the advice of that cocksucker Said, making nice with Schillinger. You'd think he would have learned by now. I take a deep breath. We'll work that out when he gets back. Instead, I put my hand down my pants as the memories rush through my body like living things. I close my eyes and I'm no longer alone waiting for lights out, I'm *there* in the cell with Toby that night.

I come up to him as he's brushing his teeth and put my hands on his hips, nuzzling his neck. He pushes me away, spins around and crosses his arms and says, "If you think you're getting any tonight Keller, you're more fucking crazy then I thought. And *that's* saying a lot."

I nod my head and say, "Oh is that so?" before pushing him up against the back wall. I grind my crotch against his, feeling his dick sell him out long before he's ready to give in.

He pushes me off him, annoyed. At me. At the fact that his dick don't lie, all hard and leaking. "Fuck you Keller, I said no."

I push into him once more, pinning him against the wall, as I lean close and whisper in his ear. "You *know* I won't force you baby. You know it, just like you know, you want it as much as I do. You want to fuck me." I press the palm of my hand against his erection. "You're angry and you want to shove *this* hard dick up my ass and show me just how angry you are." I smile against his face, my teeth rubbing against his stubbled cheek. "All I'm saying is go for it."

"Fuck you Keller, you don't know me at all," he says pushing past me and hoisting himself up onto the top bunk.

I walk the few steps until I'm standing, leaning against his bunk. "I don't know you?" I say running my hand up and down his arm.

He jerks his hand away and glares at me, daring me with his eyes to keep pushing. To goad him into doing exactly what he wants to do. It's like poking a stick at a rattlesnake. You know sooner or later it's gonna strike. It's inevitable. Just like Beecher giving into his primal nature is just a matter of time.

"I don't know you?" I said again, this time my fingers finding his still hard cock through the slit of his boxers.

He arches into my hand, pure animal instinct. His body's warring with his head and we both know which is going to win. Being right will always play second fiddle to getting off.

Always.

He's off the bed and standing in front of me , arms crossed defiant. "I don't want to fuck you Keller. Kick your ass, maybe. But fuck it, no way. Not tonight."

I cast my eyes down to his boxers, now wet with precome. I move in close. "Then why are you hard Beecher. If you *don't* want to fuck me, why is your dick standing at attention?"

He sniffs. "Who says it's for you?" he says trying to piss me off. It's a smart move really. He knows how possessive I am, but he forgets what we've been doing for the last week in this plastic bubble. We've crossed that line and there ain't no going back. I know his dick is hard only because of me just like mine is hard because of him. So there ain't nothing to be jealous about. Maybe one day when they let us out of our cages again, I'll have to worry about that, but not today.

I leer at him. "Well even if it ain't for me, I can still help you out."

He shakes his head and walks over to the sink. Cupping his hands under the water, he splashes his face. "Why won't you just leave it the fuck alone?" he asks my reflection in the mirror.

I walk up and lean against the sink. "Because I know what you need Beecher. I know you better than you know yourself." My hand is on his cock once more. I whisper in his ear. "And no matter what you do, what you say, nothing's gonna change the fact that deep down you're just a needy bitch."

And that does it. It really is too easy. He smashes my head against the wall behind me. "Fuck you Keller. Fuck you."

I grab his arm. "That's what I'm saying, fuck me Toby. Fuck me." I grab his face and kiss him hard. He bites my bottom lip, drawing blood. The taste of my blood on his tongue sends him into overdrive. He's pulling and clawing and biting at me like a rabid dog. Oh don't get me wrong, I'm giving as good as I'm getting, but there is nothing more exciting then when Toby unleashes the beast inside him.

We push and pull our way across the room until he shoves me into the bottom bunk, his mouth biting into my shoulder as he flips me onto my stomach. "Is this what you want," he asks as he yanks my boxers down. Spitting into his hand, he coats his blunt fingers before he shoves two inside my ass. He's scissoring and stretching with pinpoint precision. He's wasting no time as he removes his fingers and pushes his own boxers down.

He spits into his hand a few times more, slicking his cock and then with one brutal thrust he's inside. He pulls back and slams forward again. And again. Oh yeah this is what I wanted.

I bite into the pillow to keep from groaning because he's fucking me so hard, so deep that it hurts. But nothing has ever felt better. Toby's always made me *feel* more than anybody else. The pain just intensifies the pleasure. Normally he'd be stroking my cock, but after how I provoked him, he's not worried about anything but getting off. And the fact that he's taking what he wants is almost enough to make me come.

His one hand is anchored to mine to keep us steady and the other grabs my hair, pulling me back onto his cock with each forceful thrust. He's functioning on pure instinct now. "I hate you. I hate you, I hate you," he chants over and over as he rams me long and deep. The bunk is shaking from the force and I have to wonder if the noise won't bring the hacks running. But I don't think they could stop him now. He doesn't care about me or him or whether or not the entire fucking cellblock can see and hear us fucking. All he wants, all he *needs* is to come.

But that cock of his is so thick, so big that he hits my prostate with every slam of his hips. He bites the back of my neck just as his cock scrapes against my prostate, and I shake beneath him. I can feel my orgasm rip through my body, my cock shooting without being touched. And *that's* something that never fucking happens.

He cackles against my neck, "Who's the needy bitch now, Keller?" he asks, as he continues to pump into me, still striving for his own release. It doesn't take long, a few more hard thrusts and he's erupting deep inside me, growling as he rides out his orgasm. He collapses on top of me, his mouth against my ear. "You were right," he says sarcasm even heavier than his breathing. "I needed that."

And I can almost feel the weight of him on my back as I spill into my hand from the memory of that night.

Sure, sometimes it seems like we're at war, but we ain't. Not really. A bloody nose, a bruised ego, harsh words and quick flying fists. That ain't the end of us, it's the beginning. All it is, all it ever is, is foreplay.

So I grab my cock once more and start stroking thinking about what Toby's gonna do to me when he gets out of the Hole. I can't fucking wait until we can begin the next round.

—FIN—