Paroled Pt. 01

Just for the record, I never had sex in prison.

Yeah, I was in jail; not something that anyone who knew me earlier in life would have expected to happen, but I ended up marrying the wrong guy - big time. My stupid fucking ex was such a big fan of "Breaking Bad" that he just had to try it himself, except he was nowhere near as smart as Walter White.

My ex shortly ran afoul of a Federal-level sting operation and was convicted for a laundry list of narcotic and organized crime related offenses. He's probably still in some penitentiary somewhere.

As for me, well... I'm not going to tell anyone I'm completely innocent, but I wasn't guilty of the charges they threw at me. I was convicted of money laundering and grand larceny, and that was the part that really pissed me off. What really happened was, I got tired of getting slapped around by that asshole, so I decided to leave. When I did, I took a stack of cash he had hidden at the place as compensation for ten years of hell. I didn't know it was money that was being tracked as part of the drug sting.

Anyway...I flipped State's Evidence on him for a reduced sentence and wound up doing three years at a minimum security women's prison in northern Florida. I did 16 months inside and was on probation for the rest.

I went in when I was 38. I was terrified and I spent most of my first week in the administrative section while they got me inprocessed and so forth (almost nothing happens fast when you're in prison). I cried for three days straight. I was terrified and SOOO pissed.

Eventually, though, I got used to the prison routine. That's when I met Angie.

Angie was a sometimes call girl that had a string of DUI's and other petty stuff that finally got her locked up for a few years.

I can see the antenna and hard dicks coming up, but it wasn't like that. In the first place, I wasn't into girls (I'm still not either, in spite of all that happened) and even if I was...hello, we were in prison. That means guards and bars, so it just wasn't that easy to do, even if you were in the mood for it (which I wasn't). There were girls who did, but it wasn't easy. Usually, they had about 5 minutes to get off together in a broom closet or something. For a girl, that's not an easy thing to do.

Anyway, getting off topic here. It always helps to have a buddy in prison, so Angie became my "prison girlfriend"; that is, we were each other's excuse if we did get hit up by any bull dykes (they mostly respected you if you were in a "relationship"). Angie and I were both older than most of them (Angie was in her mid 40's) and we got along well.

It wasn't until I was released, that she got into my panties. And yeah, I knew Angie was bisexual but she had never hit on me or anything while we were inside. We were similar in age (a lot of the girls in their were ten to fifteen years younger than me) and we got along pretty well together. To be honest, I guess I developed a little crush on her. Angie was released a couple months before I was, and she promised to be there for me when I got out to help me get through.

Because...well, to be honest, I had nothing. The laws being what they were, everything I had was forfeit when I was convicted; I walked out of prison in the same clothes I went in with. Angie was there, just like she promised.

She gave me a big hug and my first cappuccino in a couple of years.

"Welcome back to the world, honey," she smiled, handing me my first cappuccino in a couple of years. "What would you like to do first?"

I sighed. "All I really want is to relax," I replied wearily. "I couldn't sleep last night. And I have to check with my parole officer."

I'd enrolled in a program for female ex convicts who were in the position I was; they helped you find a job and eventually an apartment and so forth, re-integrating you into society. The rules were pretty strict;

no fooling around, no drinking, make my parole appointments, and so forth, but I was determined not to mess up; I wanted a life again.

Angie smiled. "Of course. Let's go."

But it was Friday and my parole officer had left early for the day. I made sure that her secretary marked me as having shown up, was told to come back Monday morning and summarily shown the door. And with that, we were on our way to Angie's place.

Angie had been married a few times. None of them ever lasted very long, because to be honest, Angie was kind of a slut. She was a sweet, good hearted person, but her weakness was sex. She just loved all kinds of sex, which was one of the reasons she became a call girl.

In one of her divorces, she got a relatively nice trailer with a stereotypical redwood porch built on the front of it; typical for Florida. The place was out of town, on a wooded plot of land that was really beautiful; I don't know why it never got developed better. Angie said she just liked it the way it was, but I kind of got the impression that she just never thought she would be there long .There was a garden shed, an awning that served as a garage, and a dilapidated old barn further back that she said was from the 50's.

She showed me around the place a little, then I begged off to go shower and change. It had been quite a while since I really felt like a girl. I got into her tub and luxuriously took my time about shaving my legs and pits. In prison, you have to basically sprint to one end of the block, sign out a razor, sprint and take your shower, and then get the razor back, all in the space of about ten minutes. Not fun. Now I was all on my own time. No more hurry up and do the best you can with no shave cream or soap. Here I creamed, shaved, and moisturized and took as long as I wanted.

After I was finished with my legs and pits, I sat for a few minutes, looking morosely at the bush between my legs. I didn't have a boyfriend, my ex was in prison (not that I would have fucked him in the first place), and even if I was able to pick someone up the rules about dating and sex and so forth...fuck it, I thought, this is for me. I lathered up and shaved my pussy gloriously bare. The hairless skin looked strange after so long with no grooming, but felt amazingly clean and a little erotic as I dried myself off and I caught little whisps of cool air from the A/C between my legs. Mmm, nice, I thought to myself.

Dry now, I patted myself down with bath powder and drew on my panties. I'd had my fill of prison-issue underwear and had asked Angie to pick something sexy for me.

Boy, had she delivered.

Angie's taste lingerie runs somewhere between "trashy" and "I wouldn't be caught dead in stuff like this", but this was a special occasion. I stopped for a minute and turned this way and that, posing in the mirror topless. Not too bad, for an ex con, I mused. My dark hair had been cut while I was in, but was almost past my shoulders again. I wasn't a work out fiend, but I had developed a little bit of a routine in prison, so I was fairly trim and tight bodied for my age. I'm kind of small anyway, just an inch or two over five feet, and I've never been a fatty, but even so I was pleased with how my body looked. A little pooch (oh...all right, it was a tiny love handle - hey, I was past 40 by then) where the elastic waistband was pressing into my skin. I had a few gray hairs and stress wrinkles (with what I'd been through, it was expected), a surgery scar, a tattoo acquired in a moment of poor judgement. My tits weren't too bad either, considering my age; a little on the small side, but back nice hand (or mouth) full. I put on the matching bra, blushing when I saw my nipples through the material of the cup, and some makeup for the first time in what felt like centuries. I'd selected a black tank top and a simple denim wrap around skirt to finish the ensemble off. I checked myself out in the mirror again and thought I looked pretty good, all things considered.

Angie wolf whistled at me when I stepped out onto the deck. She'd changed into a pair of Daisy Duke cutoffs and a black jogging bra, and was laying on a double deck chair tanning. For her age (hell, for ANY age...), Angie was straight up sexy. She's tall (almost six feet) with long blonde hair done with a red wash (she had to cover a few grays herself), a wonderful hourglass figure, legs a mile long, and D cup (natural D!) tits that were the envy of most girls (including little B+ me...).

Angie patted the cushions next to her and I sat down. She reached into the cooler next to her and pulled me out a cold Smirnoff Ice.

"Um, I'm not supposed to drink on probation," I said as she handed me the dripping bottle. Angie snorted. "It's a wine cooler, honey, not crystal meth. And it's your first weekend free in a long time, so drink up!"

Wine cooler my ass, I thought. I hadn't had a drink in so long I, I'd probably be half in the bag after just one. But I shrugged. She was right. I lay back, adjusted my sunglasses, and took a long swig. Yummy. I hadn't had a drink in forever and it felt good just to relax like this. The long day, the heat, the long relaxing bath and sexy lingerie...mmm, I was feeling like a woman again. We lay there and sunned ourselves and drank and chatted and it was wonderful. Angie rolled over for a while to get some sun on her legs and gave me a nice view of her ass, and after a while asked me to rub some sunblock on the parts of her back and legs she couldn't reach. She asked if I wanted some on me, but I said no thanks. I'm white, but I'm also partly Mexican on my mom's side so I keep a better base and don't burn easy. Angie was nicely tanned from what I could see, but she had been at it for a while and had to work at it. Me, my skin tans easily and quickly.

After about an hour or two the sun started to dip down and it started to get dark. Angie went in for a quick shower and a couple of lemonades (the Smirnoffs had given me a buzz) and a citronella candle to chase away any mosquitos.

I noticed that she was a little closer to me when she lay back down, and she had taken off the jog bra and shorts and had changed into a long, mid thigh cotton T shirt. We toasted my new freedom again with the lemonade, and when we clinked our glasses together, a little bit sloshed out onto my shoulder. Angie giggled and said, "Party foul", then leaned over and licked it off my shoulder, which tickled a little. I was a little buzzed from the drinks (Yeah, I'm a lightweight...sue me), so I said, "Oh, I dribbled some more," and let a little trickle onto my chest. Angie laughed again and leaned in to lap it up, which tickled some more. I giggled as she sipped the drops on my chest and followed a rivulet of lemonade to my neck with her tongue...

Purr. Mmm that felt nice...I was buzzed and my inhibitions were dropping like lead. Angie was licking my neck, then moving up to my ears and switching from her tongue to her lips...mmm, buzz, purr some more...lips moving back to my neck, the underside of my jaw...mmm...kissing me now, my lips opening, warm body pressing against me, so nice, it's been so long, her wet tongue slithering into my mouth, her thigh moving between my legs, her hand sliding under my skirt, grabbing my ass, pulling me tight to her...

Whoa. What the fuck was I doing?

I broke the kiss. "Angie!" I gasped, panicking.

She lifted her head, concerned. "What's the matter baby?" She rolled over a little, moving her hand from my ass to my hip.

"I'm not into girls is what's the matter," I said.

Angie laughed out loud and slipped her palm between my legs and pressed in. Yow! That felt GOOD! "You don't have to be," she twinkled. "Just lay back and enjoy it, from me to you!"

"I'm not into girls," I repeated. It sounded a little lame. Not into girls, yet my body betrayed me as I involuntarily tried to hump her hand! Of course, she didn't look convinced, but she took her hand out from under my skirt. Drat! Put it back!

"You want me to stop, honey?" Angie murmured. I sensed deep disappointment from her.

My mouth opened and closed a couple of times. I gulped. My heart was pounding and I could feel the thumping in my head and in my crotch. "I'm... uh..I'm...", I stuttered. Fuck no, I don't want you to stop, I thought, but why can't you be a guy?

Angie laughed again and put her finger across my lips to shut me up. Then she leaned in again and nibbled my ear. Grrowlll... "It's just sex, baby," she whispered. "We're not dating. Close your eyes and pretend it's whoever you want it to be, but just relax and let it happen. Let me make you cum..." She trailed off and pressed her lips to mine.

Goosebumps. I kissed back now. God, could she kiss! I was buzzed and horny enough to let her, "it's just sex" philosophy take hold. It's never "just sex", really, but the hell with it, I thought. I'm wet, I haven't gotten any sex in years, I'm out of prison, I want that wet, sticky rush that curled my toes and soaked my panties.

Meow. Fuck it, let's lez out, I thought.

Angie was yanking at my top and without breaking our deep kiss, I shifted around enough to let her tug it off. She was stretching the poor thing past the point of it fitting again, but I didn't care. It made little protesting ripping sounds as she tried to drag it past the combined pressure of the deck chair cushion and my body. Gasping for air, she broke free and pulled me up onto my knees to get the tank top off.

I turned around so she could work on my bra. She snuggled up behind me, teasing me with her fingertips and kissing, licking, and sucking my neck and shoulders. The bra seemed to come unhooked almost by itself and fell off. She reached around my front cupping my breasts with her hands. I moaned softly as she massaged my tits. I covered her hands with my own, moving with her. She nibbled my ear, and I turned my face to kiss her again. Our lips met and I reached up to caress her face while her tongue danced on mine. So nice, so nice.

Her hands were now working at the waist of my skirt. Suddenly shy for some reason, I put my hands over hers, but she took hold of my wrists and moved them up my body so that I was cupping my tits. Her hands went back to my skirt while I massaged my boobs. She was breathing in my ear as I watched my skirt come unwrapped and get tossed aside.

I was sweating and panting now, rubbing my tits, my mind whirling, I'm not gay, I'm not gay, I'm not gay...oh fuck that feels good, please touch me, please touch me!

I pushed my hips out, giving access to my pussy. Angie took the hint and slid her hands down my belly and thighs to press against the front of my panties, teasing. I reflexively humped against her hands, and she slid a finger inside my panties to finally (finally!) touch my slit.

Her fingers came out shiny and wet, and she rubbed them together. "Mmm, baby, you are so ready," she whispered. She licked her fingers and then pushed one into my mouth and I tasted my own juices.

Fuck, that was hot. I don't mind the taste of myself. Many's been the time that my guy friend has fucked me silly and either finished in my willing mouth or I happily sucked him clean after.

Angie moved to the waistband of my panties and rolled them down. I had a moment of panic. She was taking my panties off! Was I really going to do this?

There isn't much privacy in prison. Showers are communal and so forth. Angie had seen me naked before, and we were both girls so of course there was no big secret as to what kind of equipment we had.

But now she was stripping me completely naked on her porch, and I was wet and horny (and straight). But I hadn't had sex in years, and I was going to let her do me, and... ooooh fuck it, touch me, touch me, touch me...

Angie didn't give me the chance for much reflection. She rolled my panties down to my thighs and then gently pushed me down and turned me over. I couldn't wait, so I finished the job, lifting my legs, pulling them off and tossing them over my shoulder.

She pushed my legs apart, spread my labia with her fingers, and lowered her lips. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Her tongue danced over my clit a few times, then she began to lick long strokes up and down my slit, from the clit to the asshole and back up. She spread me further and sucked on my clit, then licked again. I gasped, and stifled a moan into a squeak.

Angie lifted her face. "Let it out baby," she whispered. "No one will hear you. Scream as loud as you want when you cum. I love it when than happens." She went back to sucking my clit.

Fuck, I'm going to squirt all over, I thought distantly. The center of my universe was between my legs, heat and pressure building up. I arched my back, one hand on my tit and the other grasping the back of Angie's head, pulling her deeper into me. I moaned again, then louder. Angie kept licking and sucking, pushing her tongue deep in me. Dimly I felt a finger press against my tightened pussy, then gently force it's way in and begin to pump in and out of me.

Suddenly, my orgasm hit. My toes curled, back arched, muscles tightening, painfully pinching and twisting my nipple but I didn't care, my thighs clamping down on Angie's head as she bit my clitty and sucked my juices.

Oh. Oh yes! I cried out to the stars as the wave crashed over me, climaxing hard, my juice dripping down Angie's face, the inside of my thighs, even sublimely aware of it streaming down through the crack between my ass cheeks. I came again. Holy fuck, that hadn't happened since forever, and I wailed with the sheer intensity of it. Then a third time as Angie ripped her face away, gasping for air, but left her fingers deep inside me; my deep, wet muscles fluttering against her fingers as she curled and uncurled them.

Then it was done, and I lay there covered in sweat, hyperventilating. Oh god that was so good. I looked at Angie, laying with her head on my stomach, smiling at me, holding my hand. She pushed up to me and kissed my lips, her tongue deep in my mouth, the smell and taste of my own climax all over her. Musky. Strong. Enticing. Erotic.

"Oh god, baby, " I moaned.

Angie left my lips and was kissing her way down to my pussy again. 'That was so fucking hot!" she giggled. "I want to do that again."

Twist my arm, I thought. Only, why can't you have a hard eight-inch dick right now?

Angie got onto her hands and knees, her head pointing at my feet, and lowered her face to my pussy again. I spread my legs. This time, she was working me up slowly, licking, kissing. I felt my stomach tightening, and I lay back and closed my eyes. Yes. Let it take it's time and wash over me again. Impulsively, I ran my hand up the back of Angie's thigh as she made love to my pussy and she hummed in approval.

She liked my touch on her leg, maybe I should try and do more to her. Do I dare? I thought. Angie was suckling my clit now. Oh, so good. I want to make her feel good too. I wanted her to cum like I did.

She was still in her night shirt and panties. The shirt had slipped to the middle of her back, and I stroked her ass with one finger. I felt her hesitate for a second at my pussy, then went back down on me, pushing another finger in. Oh, that felt good. She didn't pull away, so I stroked some more with my whole hand, hesitantly inching my fingers towards her cotton covered mound. My fingertips brushed against her crotch, and she made a little mewling sound. I stroked some more, her wetness seeping through the cotton. She lifted her head and gasped when I pressed gently. She turned her head and looked at me, eyes wide.

"You want to?" she whispered, her eyes bright. I nodded. She rolled her panties down her thighs and sidestepped over my head, facing my feet. For the first time in my life, I was face to face with another woman's pussy. She was very wet, her clit engorged and pushing through its hood. Her pussy flexed closed, then opened, her wetness pooling up.

Was I really doing this? I was aroused like I hadn't been in a long time, and experimentally pushed a finger against her opening. Angie made a little moan as I slipped into her. For a few seconds I pumped in and out of her, glad little cries coming from between my legs as did. She spread her legs wider, and I gently rubbed a thumb across her clit as I finger fucked her.