I finally made it to my cell and to my surprise, found out that I was the only occupant. It was a weight lifted off my shoulders. That was short lived...though during our yard time. Right away I was approached by the meanest and biggest black man I had ever seen. He wasn’t Bubba but went by the name of Jerome. He asked if I was straight or gay, I told him I was straight. Jerome explained that a good-looking guy as myself was going to be somebody’s bitch. He offered me the opportunity to be his. Stroking the shaft of his dick, and letting my saliva flow down for a wet sloppy blow job, I worked the head of his dick in my mouth. It must have really felt good to him. After about 5 minutes of that I felt his whole body start to tense. Humming to add more stimulation, he started to curl up like a crunch. His precum was flowing freely, and then he grabbed the sheets and straightened out like a board as I took him over the edge. He pumped rope after rope of cum in my mouth. His was so sweet. "There's one of the Liberty Blast Ships now. I scrapped from that one a few times."Outside, the Rascal passed by the tremendous hulk of a cigar shaped craft the size of two football fields. Used to transport the doomed populous of Earth by the millions into stations already in place around the planet, they were named after the famed Liberty ships of World War II. Built quickly and suited to one purpose, once their job was done they were obsolete. Much of the outer skin was gone revealing the. What really mattered was the unknown: what was pushing Hawthorne? Where was he going? When he got there, what would he do? Hawthorne had to know that the agency wouldn't stop until they ran him down. They'd hold him and wring every last scrap of information, whatever the hell it was, out of him!Think, man, think! Where the hell would he go that he could hang out, long term, but not where we'd find him? Barringer eased back against his reclined seat, closed his eyes, and began running.