by Alexis Angel
One arm around my lower back, he hooks his fingers on my waist and, with a sudden movement, rolls me to the side. In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, my back flattening against the floor.
His cock never leaves my pussy and, as soon he settles into position, he starts to thrust again. I part my legs as wide as I can, willing him to go as deep as possible. Crossing them over his lower back, I pull into him, urging him to go faster and faster.
Ravaging me in abandonment, Lucien starts to kiss me, his hungry lips on mine. I open my mouth, my tongue pushing against his in a frenzied dance of lust. I place my hand behind his head, grabbing a handful of his hair as our bodies mesh into one another.
He never eases the pace, relentlessly ramming his cock into me until all my sense of self begins to dilute. I feel my pussy starting to contract and, before I can prepare for it, I’m coming. My legs become tense, hooking him in and not allowing him to move as I bury my fingernails on his back, harshly enough to draw blood.
“Oh God,” I moan in a hushed tone, throwing my head back as I try and catch my breath. But, once again, he doesn’t allow any time for breaks: still without pulling his cock out, he places his hands under my knees and raises my legs, placing them over his shoulders as he goes to his knees. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth, panting as I feel his cock sliding one more wonderful inch deep into me. He leans into me then, pushing my legs as his shoulders move toward mine; I go as far as I can, my ass lifting from the floor as my legs bend awkwardly over my own body. His cock sheathed, he starts to trust, pumping his cock into me with maddening precision. “Oh, Lucien… Oh,” I moan, still unable to open my eyes as lava rages through my veins, scorching everything in its way.
“Shh,” he whispers, hushing me as keeps thrusting, his cock, pistoning into me at a perfect tempo. He brushes his finger against my lips and, guided by the sinful cravings inside of me, I just open my mouth and let it in, sucking hard and still feeling the flavor of my own juices there.
“I’m going to…” I start, but the words die in my throat as my limbs start to thrash, my whole body convulsing as if the connection to my brain simply disappeared. I come again, my lungs working overtime as I try to breathe deeply, every single muscle in my body feeling as if it had been stepped on. I’m spent, exhausted. I can’t speak or think and, even though I open my eyes, I see nothing but white. Pleasure has me in a trance, and I’m mute and blind. The only thing my overworked brain can still process is his touch. The moment he starts to slide his cock out of me, I shudder violently, a shiver climbing up my spine.
I force my eyes open and stare into his, my chest rising and falling at a more steady pace now. Propping myself up on my elbows, I sit up, my fluids dripping down my thighs. Acting as if it had a mind of its own, my hands reach for him. I wrap one around his cock, using the other to cup his balls. I start to stroke him, my eyes never leaving his as I flick my wrist, my fingers curled tight around his shaft.
“I want your mouth,” he whispers, a grin on his face. I don’t even think about it; I just learn forward and part my lips, sliding them over his glans and all the way down. As I reach the base, I go back up, moving my neck back and forth as I suck on him hard. Every time I reach his tip I stop for a few seconds, twisting my tongue on his glans and lapping at it before going down again. Not a minute after I started, he places his hands on my head, forcing me to go faster. My mouth is flying over his shaft, all of my movements nothing more than a blur. He’s breathing hard, his fingers like claws inside my hair, but I don’t stop. I keep going, pushing past my exhaustion until I have him dangling over the edge.
His cock spasms once, and I slide my mouth all the way up to his glans. It spasms again and I roll my lips out, slowly sucking as his cock pops out of my mouth. A wide smile on my face, I start to stroke him as hard as I can, moving my whole arm as I go up and down his cock. The third time he spasms, his cock shoots a thick rope of cum in my direction, his semen flying in an arch and hitting me straight in the chest. I don’t stop moving my hand, his semen completely covering my breasts and dripping down my stomach. He’s still spasming when I feel strands of his sliding down from my chest to between my thighs, blending in my own wetness.
Wanting to taste him, I angle his cock upward and open my mouth, sticking out my tongue. In a heartbeat he coats my tongue, the flavor of his warm semen making my mind buzz with delight. I wait until I feel my mouth brimming with his cum and, as soon as his cock stops spasming, I smack my lips and swallow, my eyes never leaving his.
“Good girl,” he says, smiling while he reaches for my lips with his thumb and wipes off a stray drop of cum. Slowly, I peel my fingers off his cock, the last strands of semen still dripping down his shaft.
“This… was amazing,” I mutter, my body still alight with pleasure.
“No,” he replies, that kind smile of his dancing on his lips. “It was perfect. It always is with you.”
Lucien Stone, where have you been all of my life?
Lucien
You know, my life has been pretty fucking shitty so far, but for the longest time if you’d have asked me, I wouldn’t have given a fuck.
Not so, anymore, amigo. I’ve got a fucking purpose now all of a sudden.
Sure, I’m still a fucking inmate. I’m broke, fucked up because of a life sentence for a crime I didn’t commit, and constantly on the lookout for anyone who might want to try and make himself a rep by stabbing me with a home made shiv.
But aside from all that, I’ve got purpose and determination. I know what I need to do.
You probably already know why, but let me spell it out for you just in case you need to understand one last time.
Kerri Curtis. The fucking light of my life.
Am I falling in love with her? I don’t know, man. But I will tell you this. Three weeks ago, if you'd have asked me that question, I would've either laughed at you or hit you in the fucking nose depending on who you were and where you were asking. But now? Now…I’m just going to shrug it off and tell you I don’t know the answer to that question.
It’s not just the sex, either, if that’s what you’re thinking. Sure it feels unreal fucking Kerri and sure she’s got the body of a fucking angel that gets my cock so big and fucking hard that it ends up with its own heartbeat.
But that’s not the only reason I’m falling in love with her. I know that for sure.
The way she looks at me when I’m inside of her. When she can’t talk. When she can’t breathe. When she’s gasping for air. In the throes of her fucking orgasm. The way she makes herself vulnerable. After everything she’s been through. It takes a lot of fucking courage to let yourself be vulnerable like that. I could never do that.
The way she makes me feel calm. At peace. Like the world isn’t such a shitty place that chews you up and fucks you before tossing you out like fucking trash. Like there’s a little bit of hope left. A little bit of goodness left in people that hasn’t been trampled and stamped out by cruelty and malice.
She makes me want to be a better man, even in here. She makes me feel regret that I had to meet her in here. That I couldn’t have met her on the outside.
But I need to fucking snap out of it. I'm inside. There’s no denying that fact. And no amount of fucking daydreaming and happiness is going to change that.
The best I can do is protect her from what she doesn’t understand. What I hope she’ll never have to understand.
The only way I can do that is to become the one thing that scares her. An inmate. A criminal.
Yeah, pretty fucked up, right? Ain’t got no fucking other option in this joint, babe. No other way.
At least that’s what I tell myself as I walk up to where Grinder is standing in the prison yard. He’s talking animatedly to Spider. Three other people stand around him. All mob guys, all part of the same gang I used to be in. Shaved heads. Tattoos up and down their arms. I know a few of them. The tall, fat guy—his name’s Earl. The skinnier dude with the close-cropped blonde hair
, that’s Slim. And the short guy with the big ears and weasel-like face is called, you guessed it—Weasel.
That leaves Spider and Grinder.
Grinder has his name because he’s built like a fucking truck. His arms are the size of steel beams and he’s got a barrel chest that's deep like a tree trunk. He’s bald, and has jail tattoos all the way up his body, neck, and face. And his face. Jesus fucking Christ. It’s contorted in a twisted approximation of evil. His eyes are dark brown, basically black. And they turn toward me, his entire muscular frame moving as he sees me walk up to him.
No one really walks up to groups like this in prison. Not unless they have a wish to get hurt.
But me? I couldn’t give a fuck what people did. I have a mission today. And it's fucking important that I carry this shit out.
The circle of men opens up to face me as I take the last few steps. It’s all in now. No turning around and going back. No pretending that this was all just a mistake.
I take my last step and look at Grinder. He’s quiet, looking at me as well. Studying me. I turn my glance to Spider.
“Deal’s off,” I say simply. “Can’t get the bitch to go along with the plan.”
There’s silence for a moment. Spider seems a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“W-wh-what the fuck are you talking about, Stone?” Spider asks, giving anxious glances toward Grinder. “We had a deal.”
“And that deal is now off,” I say calmly. “I wanted to tell you before you started making any more plans.”
It’s been a week since Spider told me about the plan and I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to say and do to keep Kerri safe.
I haven’t been able to get her out of my fucking head. We’ve even been finding a way to meet up in the Alcove every day now. We get maybe an hour, tops. But that’s fine. It’s long enough for me to bend her over, grab her by the ass, and pound her with my cock as she moans lewdly. To slap her ass until she groans with the lascivious sounds of pleasure. To suck her clit and make her claw my hair and back as she thrashes in the midst of multiple orgasms. To leave her legs wobbly and shaky after she impales herself on my tree trunk of a cock. All 10 inches of it, buried inside of her.
Afterwards, basking in the afterglow, we talk. She tells me about her life. About her ex-boyfriend who she caught cheating. About her parents. Her job. The ways that she’s trying to get stronger. And I listen to her. Listen to the words of a woman who could be with any man in the world, and she chose a caged beast. And each time I hear her I swear to fucking God that I will do everything I can to protect her.
“You can’t back out on a deal, Stone,” Spider says, emboldened by indignation. He jars me back to the present from the reverie I'm in. “You’re committed.”
“Listen Spider,” I say, giving him a stare that should intimidate most men. “You never really asked me if I wanted in on the deal, but I spent a fucking week trying to figure out how. It’s just not possible. End of story.”
I’m going to leave it at that and I turn away, taking two steps.
“Now wait just one moment, player,” Grinder finally speaks and I immediately stop. Good. I’ve been waiting for this.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hasty?” Grinder asks me. “You want out of here just as much as we do, and we need you for the first part just as much as you need us for the second part when we’re at St. Simons.”
He’s got a point. Without me, there’s no point in Grinder’s connections getting out of St. Simons. Because we’ll never even have left here.
“As you’re no doubt aware, if you don’t leave, Lucien, then neither do we,” Grinder says and then pauses. “And I really need to leave here, Lucien.”
I can tell he’s taken a step closer but my back is still turned.
“I’m sorry, Grinder,” I say and take one step away.
I hear him take two more steps toward me to match and start to catch up.
This is going to end in a fight. I can tell. There’s only one thing that someone like Grinder will respect. That’s violence.
“It would be very stupid of you to say no, player,” Grinder says and takes one final step towards me that places him at arms length. He’s going to attack. I can tell. The hairs on my neck are pricked and my entire body is tensed. Grinder’s going to do something in the next few seconds.
Which is why I need to act now.
I turn around in a flash and take two fast steps toward Grinder before he has a chance to react. I take my fist and bring it up wildly in an uppercut punch, hitting Grinder in the chin. He lets out a WHOOF as I hit him in the lower stomach with my other arm.
Grinder doubles over and I grab him and turn him, wrapping my forearm from behind him and constricting his neck.
Grinder can’t breathe. He struggles, but those struggles start to subside. I look at his gang. They’re looking to see what happens and how they can defend their leader.
“It would be very stupid to continue to press me on this matter, Grinder,” I say to him, glancing at his men and tightening my forearm on his neck, causing them to stop their advance. Spider has faded to the background.
“I’m going to let you go and turn around and consider this matter settled,” I say in a calm voice. “Got that?”
There are slight movements of Grinder’s gang but after a few seconds, they look downward in defeat. Grinder stops struggling.
With a snarl, I release my choke-hold and toss Grinder toward his gang.
I turn around and begin to walk away. I can tell that Grinder is rubbing his neck. But he does get the last word as I walk from them.
“Just watch your back, Stone,” Grinder says after a wheeze. “You’ve annoyed me today and disappointed me to boot. I don't take either very well.”
No shit. That’s why he’s in fucking prison. But I decide to shrug it off and continue to walk back to the main wing.
It’s the fucking best I can do at this point.
Kerri
Forty-five.
That's how many days it's been since Lucien first took me and made me his in the Alcove. We've gotten to the point where we see each other pretty much every day now. To the point where I expect some reason to find myself in the Alcove waiting when the inmates are released for their few hours of free roam. Because it's different days, I've started taking my lunch and breaks at odd times. Guards and other people I work with will look at me as I go for "lunch" at 10 am in the morning. They don't understand that it's because I spent the entire morning dreaming about how Lucien was going to take me. That my panties were literally sopping wet by the time I made it to the Alcove thinking about Lucien's hard cock.
Why is he affecting me so much? Why am I having trouble concentrating on the simplest of tasks without my mind wandering to think of the next time I’m going to see him? Why can’t I get the thought of Lucien taking me, turning me around, bending me over, ripping off my panties and pushing himself into me out of my head?
It’s like my mind is in a fog when I’m not with him. Like I’m in a coma. And then we do actually meet. And I forget everything. The world fades away. The dark surroundings that we’re in become nothing more than a backdrop. We form our own encapsulated universe.
And then we have sex. It’s like nothing I have ever felt or will ever feel ever again. His cock literally stretches me in every direction when he is inside of me. To the point where I’ve blacked out from coming too hard.
And then afterwards, I sit in a sex coma. Somehow I manage to put my clothes on and get to work. Somehow I get to work, walking bowlegged and unsteady. I sit there, listening to a supervisor talking about changes to medication of prisoners who come in with life threatening wounds from altercations. Or listening to our narcotics auditor going over proper handling of controlled substances. But while I’m there physically, all I can feel is Lucien's cum dripping down out of my pussy, literally soaking my panties. All I can wish for is for it to be the next day, so I can head to the Alcove.
Ten.
That’s how many days ago Lucien told me that he loves me. Literally, he looked me in the eyes, and held my hand and whispered, “I love you, Kerri.” Tears came to my eyes and I wrapped my arms around him. We were naked. He had just fucked the living daylights out of me, coming inside me like a fire hydrant blasting on a hot summer day.
I looked into his eyes, returning his gaze. “I love you too, Lucien Stone,” I said. “I’ve loved you for some time now and it took you long enough to say it.”
Lucien chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me first,” he said with an amused gaze in his eye. “That’s what most women do anyways.”
But I wasn’t 'most women.' At least not to him. I mean, I’ve been through my share of men. I’m not a virginal princess. I’ve been dirty. But that was always scratching an itch. With Lucien it feels more real. Like I was meant to do the nastiest, most indulgent, pleasurable things with him. And there was nothing wrong with it because right after having done unspeakable things, I can cuddle up with him and imagine a life outside of the concrete walls that surround us.
Six.
That’s how many times my friends have tried to set me up with different men from various dating websites in the last forty-five days.
“You’re not getting any younger and if you keep to yourself, you’re going to end up all alone,” a few of them say from time to time.
“I want some grandchildren,” my mother tells me over the phone one day. “Do you think that’s going to happen anytime soon?”
“Besides, if he’s serving a life sentence, how is he ever going to be able to be there for you?” my friend asks over coffee one weekend. “I mean, sure you see him every day, but an hour a day isn’t a relationship, Kerri. It’s more like sex buddies.”
Deep in my heart, I know that what they say is absolutely true. I am in love with a man who has been placed in jail by society for breaking with its social contract. With a man who will never be getting out from that jail. Who is caged up like a beast, his freedoms denied.
