Correctional Lust

In the least likely place, they found desire and sex with the least likely people.

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The first time I saw her was in the county jail as we loaded prisoners into the transport van. She was beautiful, and I'm somewhat embarrassed to say that just looking at her made my dick start twitching. The van was transporting prisoners to the Mattingly Women's Reform, which was part of the Mattingly-Peterson Correctional Facility. Mattingly, however, was specifically for women with low to medium security risks serving 1-10 year sentences. Her name was Sara Danielson, and I watched her as she stood in line with the other women looking like a trapped animal; you know that proverbial deer in the headlights look. She was young; really just a girl and all I saw was a broken, defeated little creature I perversely wanted to have sex with.

She was small but with a curvaceous build; I doubt if she were more than 5'5" at the most and maybe 120 lbs. on a good day. To me she was beautiful, not super model beautiful in the media sense of the word, but desirable and sexy in the way that some women are without knowing that they are. Her innocence and inexperience made her appeal and attractiveness even more powerful and irresistable.

Glancing about the room, I could see I was not the only male checking her out. Male eyes hungrily took in the shoulder length auburn hair that probably looked copperish in the sunlight, a firm, high ass, small waist and nice sized tits, not big but not small either, a good handful that I could easily imagine sucking. Large green eyes accented by long, thick lashes framed her eyes, a pert little nose and full, sensual lips that begged for a cock, my cock to fill it. Damn, I was starting to get another boner, it happened every time I saw her. I watched her and thought how she looked as if she had just stepped off a college campus and found herself in the midst of this chaos. I felt sorry for her, but that feeling passed quickly.

*****

My name is Frank Giacovelli. Thirty-five years old, married, reasonably good looking, tall, muscular build, long thick dick, your stereotypical Italian stud, born and reared during the 1950s in Brooklyn, New York. My Dad was first generation Italian and I grew up in an old-school household were the wife was there for the man to fuck and breed, while she took care of the house and raised the kids. If nothing else, my Dad knew how to fuck and breed, as a kid, my Mom seemed to be knocked up more often than she wasn't. Encluding me, there were seven kids in our family, and maybe one that I know of outside of our family.

I remember when I was in my teens hearing rumors about my Dad seeing some other woman in the neighborhood. One night, I followed him when he left the house and he went to her house, a couple of blocks down the street. I wasn't upset or anything about the rumors, just curious. Dad rang the doorbell, she answered the door and Dad went inside closing the door quickly behind him. I went around back and squatted outside what I assumed was the bedroom window. After about ten minutes they came into the bedroom. Dad already had his pants off and his dick was huge and standing out straight from his body pointing in her direction. His girlfriend bent down and kissed the tip of his cock, letting her tongue lick over and around the crown, before she stood up and seductively took her clothes off in front of him. She was really something, I had never seen a completely naked woman before and couldn't take my eyes off her. Pretty face, full red lips, large heavy tits with dark pink nipples, small waist, wide rounded hips, and a thick, brown silky bush of hair between her legs.

Dad stood looking at her, stroking himself until his cock was glistening from pre-cum. He pushed her back onto the bed, mounted her and shoving his dick into her started fucking her. I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying to him, but I'm sure it must have been pretty nasty. Dad was talking louder and clearer than her and I could understand him; he kept calling her a bitch and a slut and telling her he was going to fuck the shit out of her. Totally riveted by what I was witnessing, my mouth gaped open in surprise when Dad stopped humping her and told her he wanted to fuck her in the ass (you never know about people, do you?), but when she wouldn't let him, he shrugged and went back to pounding her pussy. After a few minutes Dad yelled something and seconds before his body stiffened and began to tremble he took a hard deep thrush inside her. He slumped on top of her and then slowly pulled out, leaving a thin silvery string of cum trailing from his softening cock to her pussy. I sat outside the window and watched my Dad put his pants on, kiss her on the mouth and leave. . . and that was that.

I don't know if she came or not, but as hard and throbbing as my cock felt, I would have gladly crawled through that window, slipped my cock between that silky bush and satisfied her.

Dad's affair with the neighbor lady went on for awhile . . . who knows, maybe he was in love with her too. One thing for sure, is that by the time I graduated high school, the neighbor lady had a little boy who looked like Dad. Mom must have been reconciled with that arrangement or didn't know about it (which I doubt) because I never heard her complaining. Hell, I guess she figured as long as he was going to work everyday, and coming home to her with his paycheck, she could deal with the way things were back then. Dad would come home from work, eat his dinner and tell her to get in the bedroom. Nine months later I'd have another brother or sister.

I learned a lot from my Dad. A lot about men and women, our roles, responsibilities and obligations. In a way, listening and watching him, seeing the good relationship he and my Mom had, shaped how I view and treat women today.

All things considered, I think I had a pretty good childhood.

*****

I've worked here at the Mattingly-Peterson Correctional Facility for ten years and at Mattingly Women's Reform, the all female part of the facility for six of those ten years. I enjoyed working in the women's section, and though it was against policy and carried heavy concequences if discovered, I had, like many of the other guards enjoyed sex with an occasional female inmate. It was sort of an unspoken perk of the job; if I saw a woman that I particularly liked and wanted, I had yet to have a problem getting between her legs. This new one named Sara was special though, I couldn't quite put my finger on why, but she was. From the first time I saw her . . . I wanted this little bitch, and I was going to have her.

The group she was assigned to was directed forward, and she walked with them to the intake room and paused, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the activity. As she came closer, I could see she was braless; her pert nipples obviously erect from the friction of the blouse rubbing across them. I wished I could let my thumbs brush over her nipples, down either side of her waist and around her hips where I could squeeze her ass cheeks pulling her crotch into mine.

I could feel myself becoming more aroused and hard to the point I had to lower my clipboard to cover my erection. For the second time that morning, I felt my growing erection become increasingly uncomfortable and had to adjust my cock as I stood there.

I followed her with my eyes and thought to myself, "yeah, I want some of that."

*****

Despite the age difference and my position at Mattingly, I became her friend in a way, someone who understood the workings of a correctional institution and how to navigate through it. I remained paternally aloof and authoritarian but at the same time, interested in her and what she was going through.

Her days quickly fell into a monotonous routine of mundane activities. Having gone over her inmate profile, I knew she had some college and after talking to the Warden got her assigned to work in the facilities library. I had also arranged for me to be transferred to the block that housed the newer inmates where I could keep an eye on her and the other guards away from her.

I was obsessed with this girl. Sometimes, I couldn't sleep at night, just thinking about her, pathetically needing to masturbate under the covers for relief even as my wife lay sleeping next to me. When making love to my wife I'd find myself thinking about pushing my cock inside the girl and imagining what it would be like cumming hard and deep inside of her. Fuck, if I were around her on the block at work, I'd sometimes have to step away to the restroom or an empty office and jerk off. I couldn't seem to help it.

We had become friendly, and she often came to me with questions and concerns related to the prison. I remember a few weeks after she was processed in, I passed her cell and she was there sitting on the bed. I stood looking through the bars and saw the tears sparkling in her eyes, on the brink of falling.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said, wiping away the tears that were now trailing down her cheek.

"Sara, what's wrong?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

She caught her breath and haltingly began telling me what had happened earlier that afternoon.

"There were two of them, two guards. I remembered I had seen them standing at the far corner of the intake room whispering to each other when I came through the security checkpoint that first day. When I saw them today, I recognized both of them. One of them, the one with the tattoo on the back of his hand came over to me in the dining hall and said there was a problem, and I needed to go down the hall to the interview office. When I walked into the interview room, they were both there. The one with the tattoo said there was a form that had been overlooked when I originally came through processing and that signing the form was mandatory. The form gave my consent for unannounced searches of my person and belongings. It was also acknowledging that I was subject to surveillance at any time during my incarceration at Mattingly-Peterson. I signed the form and turned to leave when one of the guards blocked my way.

The one with the small scar on his cheek told me to remove my jumper. I was terrified and confused but reluctantly did what he said. He searched me while the other one locked the door and watched. He ran his hands over me, touching and squeezing me; he felt my breasts and fondled my nipples until they were hard and sore. After that, he made me spread my legs and ran his hand down my stomach and between my legs, cupping my middle. All I could do was look away in embarrassment and humiliation when he told the other guard to come over and watch as he started rubbing my clit and slipped a finger inside me to 'search'. The guard rubbed his fingers up and down along the length of my clit shaft until the little pink nub was visibly hard and throbbing and I was filled with shame. When the guard saw this, he put pressure directly on my clit and before I realized what was happening my legs started trembling, and I started grunting and crying harder as I orgasmed.

The guard with the tattoo on his hand laughed and said, "God damn it Jack, you gave her an orgasm. Shit! This little bitch just came," as he bent closer and grinned knowingly when a circle of moisture appeared on my inner thigh.

I began to whimper, and the guard, who had masturbated me, threateningly told me to quiet down, and bend over so he could finish his cavity search. When I did as he said, he pushed his finger inside my ass, and I screamed. They kept telling me to stop crying, but I couldn't, I was so terrified I couldn't stop.

The tattooed guard kept rubbing my back as if he were soothing me, stroking up and down my arms letting his hand brush against the side of my breast. When he stood up, he had what to me looked like a monstrous erection that he stroked proudly. He pulled it out and started rubbing himself against me, and after a few minutes, he ejaculated onto the small of my back and my bare ass making me involuntarily stiffen when I felt his semen dripping between my ass cheeks. He backed away and held his dick as he went into the restroom. When he came out a minute or so later, he was grinning like an idiot as he adjusted his trousers. "Next time, I'm gonna cum in her mouth," the guard with the tattoo said disgustingly.

When they were through with me, they gave me back my jumper and told me to get dressed, go back to my cell and keep my mouth shut.

Sara sat there silently staring across the cell. "I need to tell the Warden," she said distractedly.

I was angry but also aroused and excited at the thought of what the guards had done and what she must have looked like in her youthful nakedness.

"I'm sorry those bastards did that to you. I know it doesn't help much, but try to forget it, I'll take care of this, it won't happen again. Trust me; everything will be fine.

"Sara, Sara, I said reassuringy, its okay. I won't let anyone else hurt you. Do you trust me?" I could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she struggled not to burst into tears.

"I'm not going to hurt you; I just want to help you, Sara." I could almost see the wheels turning as she listened and weighed what I was saying to her. Then with an almost imperceptible nod of her head, she quietly said, "Thank you."

*****

Each new inmate was initially paired with an inmate who had been here for a while. You know, someone to answer simple questions and show them the ropes. Sara was housed with a woman named Bren. She was not a bad looking chick, but manish, controlling and a lesbian.

She was two or three inches taller than Sara and more than a few pounds overweight. Olive skinned, with short cropped black hair, brown eyes and a face that reflected the trials and disappointments of a lifetime. Bren was seated on the bunk on the other side of the cell when Sara hesitantly entered their cell the first day. "That's your bed over there, Bren said, pointing to the bunk against the wall; you can have the two bottom dresser drawers."

As she spoke, she smiled, never taking her eyes away from Sara.

"My name is Bren, Big Bren . . . what's yours?"

She got up and walked over to Sara. Standing close behind her, she inhaled the lingering scent of her Sara's perfume.

"Hmmmm, you smell good, she said licking her lips and placing her hand on Sara's waist directing her to the other bed. Put your things down."

"What's your name?" she asked again.

"Sara, its Sara Danielson."

"How long you in for?"

"Five years," Sara said the embarrassment of even discussing her incarceration obvious in her voice.

"Well, seems like a long time, Bren said, her hand caressing Sara's cheek, but you're a pretty girl, and you'll still be young and pretty when your time is finished."

Bren stretched out on her bed and began to leaf through an old magazine adding, "Dinner's at five . . ."

As hard as it may be to believe, Sara had no idea what it meant to be a lesbian or that Bren was a lesbian. That being said, things went fine between Bren and Sara from what I could see. There were a couple of incidents when inmates who wanted to be her "friend" would approach her, but Bren would always be there to run interference for her. Bren wanted Sara in a sexual way, and from the time, she met Sara she had been grooming her. I'm sure Sara thought of Bren as her good friend and in her naiveté was surprised by what later happened.

It was after dinner one evening, and they were in their cell, getting ready for bed. Sara had just undressed and slipped into her bathrobe when Bren came up to her. Before she realized just what had happened, Bren reached up and pushed the robe off her shoulders letting it drop to the floor, leaving Sara standing naked in front of her. Neither of them said anything at first, even when Bren raised her hand and fondled Sara's breasts, making her nipples instantly erect.

"You know I like you; I like you a lot, Bren said. We've been good friends, haven't we? Haven't I kept those other bitches away from you?"

"Yes, and I appreciate everything you've done for me Bren, I really do," Sara said nervously.

"Well, I think it's time you showed me your appreciation," she said as she lowered her mouth to Sara's breast and sucked the dark berry colored nipple into her mouth. Sara took a step backward, but Bren quickly grabbed her wrist preventing her escape.

"I want you to get over there on the bed," Bren ordered.

It was only then that it seemed to dawn on Sara, what Bren wanted. "No, I won't," Sara meekly protested with a shaky voice and tried to jerk away, only to have the grip on her wrist tighten.

"Please Bren . . . I think you're a nice person, and I appreciate what you've done for me, but I'm not into women, I like men."

"I can't do this," Sara sputtered.

"Sure you can Honey," Bren said.

Sara stood in shocked silence when Bren pulled her onto the bed and began kissing her hard on the mouth and fondling her naked body.

Sara began to struggle, trying to push Bren off her, but Bren put her full weight on her and reaching down, her hand found it's way between Sara's legs and began to rub her clit.

"No, no please Bren, Sara cried, her panic growing. Bren didn't stop; she continued for several minutes. The pressure and friction of her hand caressing, fondling, teasing her until Sara's resistance began to ebb. After a short while, she lay there under Bren, feeling disgusted with herself and defeated even as she began to enjoy the feel of Bren's hands on her.

Despite her protests that she only liked men, Sara shamelessly writhe beside Bren when Bren expertly and too easily brought her to orgasm. It had been a long time since Sara had been with a man, and her body didn't care anymore if it was a man or a woman who gave her the sexual release it craved. Curling up into a tight ball, Sara cried quietly with what she preceived as the shame of knowing a woman had made her feel so good.

"It's ok, it's ok. I'm a woman, and I know what a woman likes and needs," Bren said as she took her clothes off and snuggled into bed next to Sara. Covering their naked bodies with the gray, prison issue blanket, Bren encircled Sara in her arms.

"I know you haven't been with a woman before, but just let me teach you. Shhhhh, now stop crying."

As Sara began to calm and her heartbeat return to normal, she felt the welcoming warmth of Bren's body next to hers and the feel of Bren's fingers between her legs softly massaging her clit and inserting fingers inside of her until she mercifully began to tremble in Bren's arms.

*****

The next night after lights out, Bren came and got into Sara's bunk again. Bren rested her head on Sara's chest as she suckled at her breasts. The two lay quietly talking and laughing until Bren moved downward. Finding what she sought, Bren's mouth latched onto Sara's pussy and began to suck and kiss sending exquisite sensations rippling through Sara's small, lithe body. Bren moaned as she moved her tongue up and down the length of Sara's now sopping wet slit.

No words were necessary, Sara spread her legs wider for her, and as her hips began to sway, she placed her hand on the back of Bren's head. She pressed Bren's mouth harder against her pussy, and as Bren licked and sucked, Sara felt herself cumming and gave a muffled, joyous cry of "Bren . . . Bren . . . Brennnnnnn."

Bren abruptly stopped licking her and pulled away.

"Why? Sara moaned, Why, did you stop?"

Bren lifted her head and looked at Sara with a broad mischievous grin on her face.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

"Yes," Sara answered resisting the urge to reach down between her legs and make herself cum again.

"No more for tonight. Go to sleep, and I don't want you to touch yourself . . . you understand?"