Jessie's Girl

As I write this we're under total lockdown. Someone from the Aryan Brotherhood stabbed someone from the Mexican gang. Another daily occurrence here in paradise. I guess I should explain. I'm serving 25 years to life in the Florida State Penitentiary in Starke, Florida for a crime I really didn't commit. I know all convicts say that but in my situation it's true. To explain I'll start at the beginning. The very beginning.

I grew up in the then sleepy town of St. Petersburg, Florida. Since the age of seven Jessie Douglas was my best friend. It was a strange friendship, I'll admit. Jessie and I couldn't be more different. At pickup baseball games Jessie was always selected first; I was picked last, if at all. When we got to middle school it was clear that Jessie was headed for something big. Captain of the football team, a straight 'A' student and the most popular kid in school. Me, I was his tag-along. Where Jessie went I went. I was secretly glad just to be able to hang around him.

High school and college were no different. Jessie played on the football team; I was the team assistant, meaning I got to do the player's homework for them when they had to go to practice. That went on throughout college. When we graduated, Jessie left college the valedictorian and proud new owner of a Corvette from his parents; I left the possessor of a diploma with a solid 'C' average.

Still, we stayed close friends. Jessie went back to St. Petersburg to take over running his family business. Me, I found a job nearby in Tampa, plying my trade as an accountant. About a year later I got a phone call from Jessie that changed everything.

"You have to see her," Jessie exclaimed, "She is beautiful. Long blonde hair, green eyes and a body that won't quit. Why don't you come to St. Pete for the weekend? I want you to meet her." I could never refuse Jessie.

After getting to St. Pete that weekend we went to Jessie's parent's house for dinner. When we got there everyone, his father, mother, sister, were all bubbly about the new girlfriend. I didn't even know her name; Jessie's girl was how they referred to her. Who was this mystery woman, I wondered?

I didn't have long to wait. An angel entered the door to the house. She was beautiful, more than beautiful; she was beautiful and sexy at the same time. I was captivated.

And she was friendly. She walked right up to me and introduced herself.

"Hi," she said, "You must be Robert (that's my name by the way although today I'm just prisoner 8674464). I'm Lisa, Jessie's girl." She beamed a smile at him that made me wince. Why, oh why, couldn't I have a girl like this, I thought?

We spent the weekend together, us three. My best friend Jessie, his girl and I went to the movies, dinner and a baseball game at Tropicana Field. Why would I want to be the third wheel? Because during our first dinner Jessie's girl reached over and touched my hand, telling me she had heard all about me. The feel of her hand on mine sent a bolt of electricity through me. I was in love. I know it sounds stupid, she was Jessie's girl but still, she had become my dream girl.

I went back home after that weekend changed forever. I was obsessed with Jessie's girl. At work, I couldn't concentrate. I wondered, was she watching him with those big green eyes? I knew she was loving him with her body. And he was holding her in his arms late at night. It should be me, I thought, not Jessie.

I racked my brain. Where can I find a woman like that? But I knew the answer. There was only one like her and she was Jessie's girl.

A few weeks later my cell phone rang. The voice on the other end was sobbing hysterically. I recognized it as Lisa, Jessie's girl.

"Robert," she sobbed, "I didn't know who to turn to. You were the only one I could think of. Please come see me. Jessie hit me and I'm hurt."

Jessie hit her, I asked myself? "I'll be there in an hour," I promised. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"The mall parking lot, in the back," she said, now strangely composed. But I loved her to much to hear the difference in tone in her voice.

I pulled up to her car at the back of the mall parking lot just as it was getting dark. She got into the passenger seat and turned to me.

"Thank you for coming," she said, "I don't know what has gotten into Jessie but he has been drinking heavily lately and every time he drinks he hits me." She showed me a cut on her forehead. It was bleeding slightly and I offered to bandage it for her. Had I looked closely I would had seen that the cut was just a little too fresh, like a minute or two fresh. She leaned forward to let me put the bandage on and, to my utter surprise, she kissed me.

"I am so thankful that you came for me Robert," she cooed, "I had no one else to turn to." Our lips met again and she snuck her tongue into my mouth, and she placed her hand on my semi-hard dick. Just as suddenly she broke the kiss.

"You are my protector, Robert," she said, "Let me show you how much I appreciate you coming here for me." How could I object? This was a dream, after all. She pulled my rapidly growing penis out of my pants right there in the mall parking lot, bent down to my lap and took my cock into her mouth. After a few minutes of this pleasure she reached under her dress and pushed her panties down her legs. She climbed over the seat, swung a leg over me, straddling me. She lowered herself onto me as we kissed. My heart was pounding. I kissed her back, breathing heavily into her mouth.

She began to ride me, my cock feeling amazing in her, wanting her so badly.

"Oh, God Lisa...I'm gonna' cum!" I shouted. Jessie's girl held her ass down on my lap, holding my member inside her. She looked at me, still breathing heavily, watching my expression as I came inside her.

"You are my hero, Robert" she said as my orgasm hit. As soon as I finished cumming, she swung her leg back and told me she needed to go, that Jessie would be suspicious if she was not home soon. I wanted to tell her that I loved her but the point was probably moot. After all, she was still Jessie's girl. She kissed me goodbye and left. After collecting myself, I drove home and went straight to sleep.

A week went by before the phone rang again. It was her, sobbing, crying, begging me to come for her. He had hit her again, this time more vicious. I left at once.

She asked me to meet her at a motel in St. Petersburg, that she was afraid to go to her apartment. I knocked on room 308 and went in. A beautiful but tearful Lisa rushed into my arms.

"He hit me again," she said, "This time I am afraid he will kill me, he is so angry." I thought to ask what could have made Jessie so angry but my love for Lisa blinded me. There were red marks on her arms from what could have been a struggle. Then again, they could have been self-inflicted. Had I been in control of my emotions I would have asked to see her wounds.

Without a word we undressed each other. I slid down her body and pressed my mouth against her mound, kissing her bush while my hands cupped and stroked her inner thighs. My tongue touched her clitoris and my lips encircled her pussy, soft, wide, open and warm, pulling at her with pulsing suction, harder each time. A sigh slipped from her mouth and her body trembled. She cried out as she came, every part of her body twitching as she gasped for breath, then came again.

"I love you, Robert," she said.

"I love you too, Lisa," I replied.

We made love with abandon, over and over, until both of us were too tired to continue.

She spoke first. "What do I do now," she said.

"If I go back to my apartment I am afraid he will hurt me again, even kill me. Will you protect me, Robert?"

Without hesitation, I said yes, a decision I will regret forever.

She called Jessie and told him where she was, asking him to come right away, she had something to tell him. She told me she was going to tell Jessie it was over between them, that she and I would be together, forever. But, she said, "Please protect me. I'm afraid of what he might do."

I went to my car and got my revolver from the trunk, another decision I would come to regret. When he arrived and saw me, then heard Lisa say she was leaving him, he was truly angry, shouting at me that I had betrayed our friendship.

"He's going to hit me again, Robert," Jessie's girl said to me. "Please do something, now!"

Without a thought I shot Jessie with my revolver, three times in the head and body. Not thinking straight, I acted as if drugged with my love for Jessie's girl. No, after that she would be my girl, Robert's girl. I didn't care about the consequences; I would do anything for Lisa. Besides, it was self-defense wasn't it?

When I explained myself to the police, thinking Lisa would step in and tell them it was self-defense, that I was protecting her, she denied everything. The bruises-I had hit her. I had forced her to have sex with me. I had forced her to go to the motel room. The cops believed her, the jury believed her.

After I had been in prison for a month my parents mailed me an article from the local newspaper. Lisa French (formerly Jessie's girl) had come into a large insurance settlement. Seems she was the beneficiary of a $500,000 insurance policy taken out on Jessie just two months earlier.

But she better enjoy the money quickly. My attorney says there was a problem with the arresting officer giving me my Miranda rights. The evidence might get thrown out on appeal. I just might get released from prison. He says it's a long shot but if that happens, I'll have a surprise for Jessie's girl.