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Years spent on the streets intimidating people with his mates gave him a certain toughness which was regarded as normal here. Despite his youthful appearance, he knew he had the right swagger, the gobby attitude. (Good reason for that Jack: you're fuckin straight.) He quickly shook the image away lest he get an untimely hard on, mightily glad that showering with other naked blokes hadn't aroused him at all. Just another daily dose of tough love on his knees in the claustrophobic cell.
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His dad had been horny this morning before breakfast and pumped his face full of it. The shameful truth always lurking at the back of his mind now: he was suckin the meat. He didn't have to boast - his own team had gloated enough on his behalf already - just the odd cheeky grin. Jack laughed with everyone else, content with his performance and appreciating the grudging admiration of the opposition. Left the zimmer behind today, did ya?' Laughter all round. 'Ahh, ya fackin poof - did ya mam teach ya how ta tackle?' 'Couldn't fuckin believe it, my foot was right on it. Rough jostling bodies and shouts in the steam, the easy ritualised camaraderie of straight blokes. Only the third he'd had all week and he fucking needed it. The showers were very welcome on such a hot day. He liked it mostly cause he was good at it, and that brought him respect. The big guy was using his 'free' time for weightlifting, or something not a big football fan it would seem ('bunch of overpaid tossers fakin it like girls when anyone touches em.'), but Jack wasn't gonna argue the point. His muscles were certainly aching from the first few workouts with Sike. Vapour trails crossed high in the summer sky sweat slid down his shirtless back. So he should, he thought: he was bloody good. He noticed one particular officer watching him intently at various points. Be grateful for what you get.įast and aggressive in possession, he showed off his skills to his new mates, scoring four times. Sure, grass and a larger space would have been better, but this was fuckin prison after all. Barbed wire topped walls rising high on two sides, the prison buildings on the other two.Ī week into his time and this was the first breath of fresh air for Jack since arriving, though he would have jumped at the chance of a kickabout wherever it was. Friday afternoon, five-a-side football in the concrete yard.