Time

Day One

Shit! Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit!!

I cannot believe I’ve been so bloody stupid! I especially can’t believe I’ve ended up here! In fucking Holebrook prison. And for what? For standing up for a mate who disappeared the moment she saw the other cow drop.

Maybe I should explain. I’ve already promised myself I would keep this diary as if I’m expecting someone else to read it one day, so a bit of background might be a good idea. My name is Rosie Davenport. I’m twenty six years old and until yesterday afternoon, I worked as a mechanic in a garage. I doubt I do now though. They suspended me until the trial and I guess, having been found guilty, have seen fit to sack me. Not that I blame them. I won’t be fixing any cars for a while in here and there is plenty of keen grease monkeys out there who’ll only be too happy to fill the gap.

As for my flat, well Mum has offered to keep an eye on that for me whilst I’m ‘otherwise detained’, so that’s something I don’t need to worry about and as I won’t be using any electricity and water whilst I’m in here there shouldn’t be much in the way of bills to pay. I have savings as well, so it’s not as if I’m putting my parents out of pocket.

I bet they’re disappointed in me though and not for the first time. I’ve been pretty adept at letting my parents down over the years. First I disappointed them at school, when I didn’t get the grades they expected, then again when I refused to go to college to study as an accountant although I have no idea to this day why they thought a career in numbers would appeal to me. I’ve always hated maths! Anyway, I made up a bit of ground when I attended and finished the mechanics course and I think dad rather enjoyed talking cars and engines to me, even if mum couldn’t make head nor tail of it all, but then I ruined the whole lot by coming out as gay and ruining their chances of becoming Grandparents. Being arrested, therefore, was just the icing on the cake. so all in all, I doubt the Daughter of the year award is ever going to grace my mantelpiece.

My arrest then. I guess I better regale you with this little saga.

It all started at a party in a pub called the Crown and Anchor. My so called mate, Stella, was celebrating her twenty seventh and everyone was a bit merry, which is hardly surprising seeing as we were all in a pub, but it was at this point, when everything was starting to get a bit blurry around the edges, that some bright spark decided to roll out a bloody huge birthday cake on a trolley that had wheels.

I can’t even remember what it was of, this monumental offering, I just remember it being covered in pink and white icing with one of those sparkly candles on it that when lit resembled a small, very excited sparkler. Anyway, it was just as Stella was getting up to cut it and waving a knife around like it wasn’t sharp enough to take someone’s head off, that the pub doors crashed open and this totally pissed off brunette stormed in, wearing a face like thunder and shouting her mouth off about Stella sleeping with her bloke. A bloke, I hasten to add, who was nowhere in sight.

Course Stella denied everything and most of us believed her. Stella has been with her Tony for about three years now and I really can’t see her straying, she’s just not the type, but mouth almighty was having none of it and walking up to the cake, accused poor Stella of all manner of things before giving the trolley a huge shove and sending the whole lot smashing into the wall. Chunks of cake and icing went everywhere whilst we all stood in frozen horror and pissed off brunette turned on her triumphant heel and stormed right back out again, which is precisely when the alcohol I had consumed decided to numb the sensible part of my brain and instead of going up to Stella and putting my arm around her and telling her everything was going to be alright, made me race after stroppy madam, grab her by the shoulder and spin her around just before she could exit out into the cold, night air.

To say she wasn’t pleased is an understatement. She swore blue murder and when I wouldn’t let her go, slapped me so hard across the face my lip split and blood dribbled down my chin. Well, I wasn’t having that! If anyone needed a good slap it was her, not me and clutching my bleeding mouth with one hand, I threw a proper, mechanic’s arm punch with the other and floored the bitch. But she couldn’t just fall could she? Oh no. The stupid cow had to smack her head against the side of a table on the way down, spilling beer all over herself and leaving a gaping wound big enough to require stitches.

Needless to say, by the time the police and ambulance arrived, madam had picked herself up and was telling everyone I had battered her to within an inch of her life. The fact she hit me first hardly dented the copper’s notebook. She was bleeding worse than me, she was the one needing stitches and I was the one merely looking like a pissed up thug. Stella didn’t help either and instead of sticking around to stand up for me and explain why I had thumped the big mouthed brunette, legged it outside, along with just about everyone else, resulting in me getting three months for GBH. My parents are so proud.

Day Four

Getting used to the place now. The first couple of days were a nightmare. I didn’t know where anything was or what any of the bells meant and I wandered around like a little, lost soul permanently trying to follow the crowd. My cell mate, Amanda, was supposed to show me the ropes, but so far her instruction has gone no further than vague pointing in various directions and tut-ting. The food isn’t too bad, edible if not uninspiring but the work is boring and the nights are bad, very bad.

In darkness, there is too much time to think and to realise just how long three months can be. I will miss Easter, though if I’m honest, I will miss the chocolate more. Mum says she is still buying me an egg and I can have it when I get home which is nice, if dad doesn’t get to it first. I also miss having my own room. Sharing with Amanda is a nightmare! She’s in the top bunk and believe me, that girl has a ferociously high sex drive. Every night she’s at it, playing with herself, the bunk above me creaking and moaning until finally her deft, little fingers have reached their desired goal. She isn’t exactly quiet about it either and seems to have a variety of names at her disposal to call out at the opportune moment. Thankfully they are all male.

Day Six

All alone in my cell, crying my eyes out. I want to go home! I want my mum! Pathetic I know but I can’t stop shaking, my nose is bloody running and I have a scrape down my left cheek where they slammed me against the wall. The fucking bitches! I was only having a shower, I didn’t know the cubicle I was using was special. I was just washing, that’s all and then they grabbed me, three of them. I don’t even know their names, apart from Ronnie who is a big, fat, ugly cow. She watched whilst the other two smashed me against the cold, wet tiles and then leant in to tell me I was using her cubicle and that I would now have to suffer the consequences.

I’m not sure if I want to document what they did next, but I suppose it wouldn’t be much of a diary if I didn’t. They turned me around and laughed at my scraped face, then Ronnie rang a finger down my cheek and asked if I had hurt myself? I wanted to thump her then, to smash her one the same way I had sorted out that bitch at the party, except I was severely outnumbered here and would you believe it, there was absolutely no one else taking a shower.

So I let her stroke my face and fondle my breasts and tell me how lovely I was and how much I must be missing a decent fuck. Telling her to go fuck herself was probably not the best option ‘cos she didn’t take it well and slamming me around again, she grabbed my nipples from behind and gave them a painful tweak. Course I screamed and struggled but no one came. Nor did anyone appear when she got the other two to hold my legs apart whilst she finger fucked me so hard my feet nearly left the floor.

So now I’m crying, like a soppy, little girl. One hand jammed between my thighs, the other scribbling this down. I want to die.

Still Day six.

I dozed off, somehow slept through the lunchtime bell and woke up feeling really hungry. With nothing to eat in my cell I was forced to venture out onto the landing, and still feeling sorry for myself thought it might be wise if I went and checked myself ‘down there’ if only to ensure Ronnie hadn’t seriously hurt me, but my stomach was grumbling loud enough to echo along the corridor and I was hoping that if I made a mad dash for the dining room there might still be something left for me to munch on.

I didn’t see the guard, not until I practically walked into her. She was coming out of one of the other cells, her concentration all on the way she was heading and I just about managed to pull myself up short before our uniforms collided. She did look startled.

“Davenport, isn’t it?” She said, looking me up and down and pulling at the hem of her tunic. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”

“I was asleep.” I replied, wiping sleep out of my eyes, “missed it.”

She looked at her watch. “You sure have. Didn’t you hear the bell?”

I shook my head. I didn’t need this. I just wanted to go and get some food and be on my own so I could wallow in misery.

“Are you alright?”

I wasn’t’ expecting that. Usually the guards just bark orders at you or look at you as if you’ve been scrapped off someone’s shoe, so to be asked if I was ok threw me a bit and I felt tears start to well again.

Cuffing them from my face, I mutely nodded and wondered if I could get away with fleeing back to my cell.

“You’re crying. What’s the matter? Has something happened?”

I managed another nod and then I was walking, well being led really, a hand wrapped around my arm as I was gently led back to my cell and deposited on my bunk. The guard then retreated back to the door to give me space and waited for me to explain.

It came out in fits and starts, with plenty of nose blowing and even more tears but once I’d finished, she assured me I had nothing to fear and that Ronnie would be severely dealt with.

“But she’ll know it’s me!” I cried, already envisaging Ronnie and her little band of helpers getting their own back. “And then it’ll get worse.”

“I doubt it. This isn’t the first time Ronnie has pushed her luck and I’m pretty sure, once the governor hears about this, she’ll be around much longer to bother you. As for the other two, a stretch in solitary should give them something to think about. Now, dry your eyes and come with me. Let’s go see what’s lurking in the kitchen.”

I followed her, feeling like a little kid. My eyes were red and sore and I was so hungry my stomach felt hollow and as we neared the kitchen the smells from within almost drove me mad as we pushed through the double doors and encountered a world of chrome, light and emptiness.

Lunch was clearly over and everything tidied up and put away, but the mouth watering aromas of meat and potatoes and gravy still lingered and it didn’t take long before I was positively drooling.

Meanwhile, the guard was at the fridge, sorting through the contents and pulling out sealed containers and the biggest tub of margarine I’ve ever seen. “Have to be a sandwich.” She said, dumping the lot on the counter. “Cheese ok? Or would you prefer ham?”

She made me a cheese sandwich and I watched her, trying to see beyond the uniform to the woman inside. She was, I decided, quite attractive. Her eyes were kind and she had a nice smile and she chatted whilst she worked, asking me about my life outside and what I had done to earn myself a stay in Holebrook.

“Tough break.” She said when I’d finished speaking. “Not saying you should have thumped her, but sounds like she deserved it. And you’re a mechanic? That’s pretty impressive. Maybe I’ll get you to take a look at my rusty old heap once you’re out.”

Biting into the sandwich I said I’d be delighted and watched her make one for herself. She had missed lunch too and I had an uncharitable moment when I wondered if she hadn’t been hungry as me we wouldn’t be eating together.

“So,” she said in between bites, “anyone waiting for you to get out?”

“My parents.”

“That all?”

“Maybe my mates though I doubt Stella is gagging to see me, it’s her fault I’m in here in the first place.”

“What about a boyfriend?”

“I’m gay.”

“Okay, girlfriend then. You don’t make things easy do you?”

“Why?” I asked, “because I’m gay?”

She shook her head. “No. That doesn’t bother me, half the staff in here are gay, including myself, and so are most of the inmates. I meant you’re not very talkative.”

I wasn’t very talkative again for a while. The way she had just admitted being gay herself surprised me. Most people I knew took ages to admit they liked the same sex.

Day Eight

Two days ago I was crying into my pillow, now I can hardly stop myself smiling. Things are definitely looking better. My parents have visited for one thing. My mum all smiles and assurance, my dad stiff and uncomfortable, surrounded as he was by women far tougher than him. They greeted me with hugs and kisses and the triumphant news that Stella has finally had a change of heart and instead of being some horrible woman capable of GBH, I apparently acted in Stella’s defence, saving her from a fate worse than cake and should be congratulated. As a result, the police are reconsidering my case and if all goes well, I’ll be out of here sooner than I thought and Stella, if the cops decide to be nasty about it, might well be taking my place.

That’ll teach her. A few months without retail therapy and hair straightners will put her in her place.

The other good news is the guard who made me the sandwich. I found out her name is Caroline and no shortening to Lynn or Carol or anything else. It’s Caroline. She likes her name and she doesn’t want anyone messing with it. Good for her, I say.

After our impromptu lunch, she tidied up, sweeping crumbs off the table and giving it a good wipe down. She then boiled a kettle for tea and asked me if I took sugar. Once made, we sat on stools and talked, about general stuff at first and awkwardly, both of us aware of our respective hierarchy within the prison and determined not to cross the line. She asked me again about Ronnie and whether it had happened before. I told her no and that was the worst of it. The surprise, the shock and the awful realisation that all those things that went on in prison dramas actually did take place for real.

She nodded and pulled a face, confirming that make believe was not so far from reality and made me promise to see the prison medic. We drank more tea, from prison mugs and chatted some more, neither of us in any hurry to leave.

Then we fucked. I don’t’ remember how it happened or what started it. I just know I got up to rinse out my mug and Caroline was suddenly there, standing real close beside me, close enough for me to smell her perfume and the underlying aroma of prison uniform. She touched my hand then, a mere stroke of the fingers, but it was enough to light the flame of desire and I turned to her, a frown on my face, my lips ready to question but getting no further than a mere shape before she was kissing me, her lips pressed firmly to mine, determined to at least taste me before I pushed her away and raised the alarm. Except I didn’t. I was too busy kissing her back and pulling her to me, feeling the round shape of her breasts pressed against mine, her arms around my shoulders and waist. Her hips meeting mine as she gently pushed me back against the counter.

“Someone...!” I said and glanced towards the door. Her gaze followed mine, considered and took action. Leaving me, she crossed the room and snapped shut the lock. “Not anymore.” She replied.

She took me on the counter, spread out on a sheet of cold steel, my legs dangling over the end whilst she stood in front of me, slowly peeling off the starchy layers of authority to reveal that beneath she was all woman.

She teased me then, pulling aside the cup of her bra to give me a tantalizing glimpse of dark nipple before it disappeared again. She ran her hands along the sweep of her neck, down her side and across her flat stomach. She pulled suggestively at the top of her knickers, allowing me to enjoy the briefest glimpse of dark curls nestling beneath the pale fabric before they, too, were denied me.

She excited me without benefit of a single touch and I felt myself grow damp at what was to come. I wanted to be naked too, to lie here, on this cold slab whilst she heated me up from within, but she made me wait and leaning over me, she kissed the tip of my nose whilst her fingers got busy with the buttons of my shirt. Once open, she peeled it from my shoulders and smiled at the sight of my breasts before turning her attention to my trousers, slipping them easily down my thighs to fall to the floor.

The touch of cold steel made me shiver and she helped me up, telling me she didn’t want me to get cold and leading me over to the fridge.

She turned me so I was facing it, my hands spread wide across the polished, silver surface until I could feel it thrumming beneath my fingertips and knew that between my thighs something similar was going on.

She pushed against me, mashing her breasts flat against my back and I felt her move as her bra fell away and her bare nipples pressed against my skin. My own bra followed and my nipples stood instantly to attention, the cold of the fridge and her hands, stroking my stomach, turning me on so much I felt lightheaded.

Kisses rained down on my shoulders and the side of my face and I wanted to kiss her mouth, to feel her tongue entwined around my own and our lips moulded together, but she wouldn’t let me. Instead she told me to have patience, to let her have her way and I gladly acquiesced.

Her hands trailed down my sides and found my knickers, tugging them from me in one, easy movement. My pussy throbbed, desperate now for her touch. I groaned softly, wanting to voice how much I was enjoying this and how much I didn’t want her to stop. Her mouth smiled into my shoulder and she nibbled my ear, telling me I had a lovely body and that she was looking forward to fucking me and that if I was very good, I would get to fuck her back.

Her hands on my hips she pulled me backwards until I was bent over and then scooped up my breasts, her fingers caressing my nipples and pinching them ever so gently. It was wonderful and I groaned again, feeling a molten wave of desire race directly from my tits straight to my cunt.

“Fuck me.” I urged and spread my legs, hoping the sight of my swollen pussy lips would encourage her to part them and delve inside.

Her hands left my breasts, well one did. Whilst her left continued to stroke, squeeze and work at my nipple, the other stroked my stomach and explored my belly button, gradually making its way down to my fluff. Once there it lingered, stroking me and applying pressure to my slit until I thought I would go crazy with want. I ached for her touch and I was on the brink of touching myself just to ease the longing, but I knew it wouldn’t be anywhere near as good or as satisfying if I did.

Her fingers slid in, parting my sticky pussy lips and sending shivers rippling up and down my arms. I stuck my bum out still further, feeling the silky fabric of her panties brush against my skin and groaned, begging her to touch me and give me some relief from this raging desire.

Yet still she hesitated, her fingers gently circling around the entrance to my cunt whilst her other hand still held my breast, her thumb rubbing across my erect nipple.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore.” She breathed into my ear. “I would hate to hurt you even more.”

“No, it’s fine. Please. I want this.”

She entered me, her finger pushing firmly into my sopping wet hole and as they disappeared, I heard her sigh and hoped the act of entering another woman had given her a taste of the wonderful thrill I was experiencing. She fucked me, savouring the length of me and the warmth that surrounded her fingers.

She screwed me slowly, allowing me to feel each and every thrust of her hand whilst the other left my breast and kneaded my bum, spreading my cheeks and making me feel even more at her mercy. I didn’t mind. I wanted her to have me and fill me up with fingers and know that every last drop of the juices oozing from my cunt were down to her.

She pushed another finger inside me, stretching me and moving carefully until she had created enough lube to allow her to fuck me faster. I moved with her, feeling the tremble of a building orgasm start to gather in my groin and telling her so.

In reply, her free hand left my bum and moved round to cup my pussy, a single fingertip pressing itself into my clit and making me shudder so hard I feared I might dislodge her from my cunt.

She pressed harder and I moaned, feeling my orgasm race several steps closer. I wanted to be taken now, not just fucked, but for Caroline to use me and fuck me in any way she chose because nothing would have been too much or beyond my capability to give her. I was so suffused with lust and longing I no longer cared and nothing else mattered but being fucked and ultimately, coming.

She fucked me hard, grunting with the effort and I moved with her even though my knees felt weak and I had to lock them and hang on to the sides of the fridge whilst Caroline pounded her fingers in and out of my cunt. She stroked my clit and I groaned so deeply it didn’t sound like me. I was moments away from coming and told her so and she answered by saying my cunt was sopping wet and felt incredible!

I came, harder and longer than I had done in a good, long while. Arching my back, I shoved my backside against her and felt her fingers drive deep inside me, her other hand stroking and rubbing my clit until I could take no more and I came. Gasping and calling her name. My entire being centred only on what was happening between my legs. My cunt felt liquid beneath her touch, my clit throbbing and swollen as she fucked and screwed me through the best orgasm I’ve ever had and left me shattered on the floor.

Afterwards I could barely speak. Or breathe. My cunt still throbbed and I wallowed in the wonderful after shocks that rippled through my insides and had me softly moaning with pleasure. Again and again they came until Caroline knelt before me and gently parting my sticky thighs, pushed a hand between my plump, pink lips and rubbed my clit until another orgasm shuddered through me and finished me off.

I must have dozed off, exhausted by a post orgasmic slump because when I opened my eyes, Caroline was sitting beside me, playing with her nipples.

“I couldn’t wait,” she sighed, rubbing her palm over the proud nub. “But now you’re awake, maybe you could?”

Leaning over I took the nearest in my mouth and sucked and nibbled until I felt her shudder.

Then she stood up and slipping off her panties, revealing a neat strip of pussy hair and releasing the wonderful fragrance of feminine lust, she told me she wanted me to lick her.

“From cunt to clit,” she said and crossing to the counter, she spread out her shirt and lying down on the cold surface, spread her legs as wide as they would go, allowing me to see exactly how turned on she was. Her pussy was beautifully swollen and so wet I couldn’t wait for my tongue to explore her delicate folds and silken interior.

I knelt before her, the floor cold and hard on my knees and put my hands on the soft skin of her thighs. I breathed in, inhaling her and savouring the moment when I would dip my head. I watched as a single bead of desire oozed from her hole and hung like a translucent pearl on her fluff and I had never wanted anyone so much.

Gathering it up with my fingertip, I smeared it around her hole, then flattening my tongue, I swept it along the entire length of her pussy. I didn’t think she would be expecting that and I was right for she shuddered and gasped and gripped the edge of the table as her pelvis suddenly tipped upwards to follow the flow of my mouth.

I explored her, driving the tip of my tongue into her hole and licking round the rim. I found her clit and all but swallowed it as I pulled it deep into my mouth and lapped at it until she bucked with pleasure.

I inserted my thumb into her cunt, smiling as warmth and wetness surrounded me and I fucked her, feeling for her G spot and knowing I had found it when she began to make tiny mewing noises every time I touched a certain spot. I stayed there a while, stroking her and allowing the electricity to build, my tongue lapping juices from her pussy as I drove the nub of her clit into a frenzy.

Gripping the sides of my head, she drew me ever closer to herself until my mouth was lost amongst the lips of her pussy but I didn’t mind, I was enjoying myself, the taste of her, the smell, the way she bucked and shuddered beneath my touch. It was all wonderful.

I fucked her harder, driving my thumb in and out with enough force for her to know she was truly being taken. My tongue stayed at her clit, swirling round it and sucking up every last drop of juice she cared to send my way. She told me she was coming and I fucked her harder still, sliding in and out easily, her clear juices running down my chin and over my hand as I pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.

She came, shuddering and panting, her cunt clenching my thumb, my mouth suddenly flooded as she tipped over the edge, arching her back, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her cunt one giant pool of liquid desire as she gushed beneath me.

No wonder I am smiling now.

Day Ten

The prison is buzzing with rumour because apparently, upon learning that she and not Bev and Melanie, was about to go into solitary for some time, Ronnie, granted an hour to pack up her stuff and told to leave her old cell as tidy as possible, decided to call in her buddies Bev and Melanie and embark on one, last group fuck before she was denied all access to any pussy other than her own.

They made the most of it by all accounts, or at least that’s what Caroline told me when we had a quiet moment to ourselves because it seems they were having such a good time that Ronnie lost all sense of the passing minutes and when the guards turned up to escort her to her new abode, they found her stark naked on her bed with Bev sucking her tits and Melanie frantically fucking her with the handles of two dessert spoons held together with an elastic band. You couldn’t make it up!

So now, Ronnie is in solitary and probably glad of it due to the fact that everyone will be laughing at her when she finally gets out, whilst Bev and Melanie are experiencing the humiliation right now, though both of them swear blind that Ronnie threatened them with violence if they hadn’t done what she wanted and although I am sharing the funny side of it, I’ve gone off puddings and soup for a bit.

Day Twelve

I am to be let out early apparently, now my treasured mate Stella has come clean to the cops. I should be rejoicing, my parents certainly are. Not only are they getting their daughter back, but she is coming home something of a hero instead of a villain. I can feel a party coming on and I should, as I say, be happy, but I’m not. Caroline will still be here, locked inside the prison just as securely as I have been and although she gets the option to go home at the end of her shift, sometimes its not always possible or convenient to get together, especially if she finishes in the wee, small hours and I can see our relationship fizzling out before its even begun.

She won’t have it though and tells me I am being silly. We will make it work, she insists and won’t it be so much better being able to share a nice, soft bed instead of a hard bunk or a quick fuck up against the wall somewhere. And she’s right, I know she is, but part of me still fears that the minute I walk through those iron gates, Caroline will do a quick one eighty and start looking for another inmate to screw. See what I did there? I’m making inadvertent puns even when I’m miserable. God, I’m fed up. What’s the matter with me?

Still day twelve but later.

Today just keeps on getting better. I haven’t seen Caroline all day which only impounds my fear that I am about to be cast aside and I’ve moved through the things I’ve had to do with a heavy heart until eventually, bored and not wanting to join the others in socialising, I decided to take a shower and then curl up with a book I knew I wouldn’t actually read but which would give me a good excuse to sit on my bunk and mope.

The shower room was quite busy when I got there, but as I stood under the steam with my mango shower gel and peach shampoo the place slowly emptied until I was alone. For about five minutes. Then in they came, Bev and Michelle, both of them wrapped in towels and both of them heading straight for me. I should have run, but the stubborn part of me refused to budge and I squared up to them, knowing I was going to get another beating and not really caring. I guess it suited my mood. I was miserable, so why not look the part as well?

I won’t go into details other than to say there were a lot of threats, aimed at both myself, my family and to pets I do not own, all of them compliments of the lovely Ronnie who was determined to hunt me down once she got out and make me pay. This, however, did not unduly bother me. I doubted Ronnie would be able to find me or particularly care once she did finally get out of prison, plus if she did ever manage to track me down, it would be straight to a garage where I would be waiting with a spanner and several burly blokes.

Still, they pushed me around a bit, laughing when I slipped on the tiles and ended up on my arse and there was a fair bit of name calling, all of which was expected and didn’t do any real harm. What did though was Bev taking it upon herself to kick me and not once, but several times, to the ribs and stomach and the side of my head, the last blow fortunately not hard enough to knock me out, but hard enough that I could pretend to be rendered unconscious and force the pair of them to get scared and leg it.

I’m not sure how long I lay there before help arrived, but it was Caroline who came, ushering out the curious faces and offers of tea and finally turning off the water to leave me lying in a rapidly cooling puddle.

Helping me to my feet, she wrapped me in a towel and led me over to a wooden bench, where lifting various edges, she examined me for cuts and bruises and sucked in her breath at the beautiful purple one that was starting to blossom on my side.

“Bitches,” she hissed and pulling me to her, smoothed down my wet and ruffled hair before telling me everything was going to be alright and that very soon Ronnie was likely to have company she would never see.

No one came in and that surprised me. I knew Caroline had told them to go away but curiosity would usually have driven them back by now, if only to ensure I hadn’t had a fit and died.

“I locked the door,” Caroline said when I asked her about it. “Didn’t want that lot wading in when I was trying to look after my girl.”

“Your girl?” I repeated.

“Sure. You are, aren’t you?”

I nodded, inhaling the scent of wet uniform from where I’d been leaning against her and feeling her kiss the top of my head.

“Did you think I would forget you once you were out?” She said eventually.

It was the question that had plagued me all day, the worry that led me to the showers in the first place.

“I wondered.” I replied, hoping my voice was not betraying how wretched I’d been feeling. “There are so many women in here.”

“But none of them are you. I won’t forget you Rosie. I want to be with you. Really I do. God, if it helps, I’ll chuck in this job and find another, one where I’m surrounded by men!”

That made me laugh, particularly as that was my life away from these four walls.

“I’m sorry.” I said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t, you daft tart! We’ll be okay, you just have to give us a chance, just like you have to give me the chance right now to get you dry before you catch your death.”

Leaving the bench, we moved into the changing room proper. It was warmer in there, although there were no lockers or coat hooks for hanging clothes as both of then were deemed too likely to be used as weapons. It did have bolted down benches though and these were padded for comfort. Sitting on one, we braced our backs against the wall and I leant back with a sigh, shivering when the cold tiles pressed against my skin and grateful when Caroline put her arm around me and briskly rubbed my shoulders.

“I suppose we ought to leave soon.” I said, rubbing at my bare thighs. “Won’t they wonder why you’ve locked the door?”

“Let ‘em. I’ll just say you were upset and needed a little quiet time, they don’t need to know the truth.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I think I should examine your injuries and then, if need be, kiss them better.”

And suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore although my body was still covered in goose bumps especially when Caroline carefully peeled back my towel and frowned at my ribs, my side and finally at my nipples that by this time had shrivelled into hard, little nubs all ripe for the taking.

“Now they look sore.” She said and dipping her head she drew one into her warm, soft mouth.

I melted instantly, the thrill shuddering all the way down to my toes as Caroline sucked gently, her hand on my thigh, stroking and kneading and edging its way ever closer to my pussy.

I spread my legs for her, eager not to hamper her progress and her fingers slid in, easing aside my rapidly swelling pussy lips and threading themselves into my cunt where they began to rhythmically fuck me.

I slid further off the edge of the bench, allowing her more room and gripping on for dear life watched as she screwed me, her fingers making me far wetter than the shower had done. It felt wonderful and despite the bruises that were starting to pull at my skin, I gave all of myself to her.

“Join me.” She invited. “Play with your clit.”

“No.” I said, shaking my head. “I want this to be all you. I want to only feel your hands on me.”

“Okay. I’ll have to move then.”

She knelt between my legs, uncaring of the hard floor and the small drips I had shed in my wake. Her fingers stayed inside me throughout, gently tickling my insides as she manoeuvred herself into a better position and then drove her fingers in deep, as far as they would go.

It made me groan and I pushed my pelvis towards her, eager to eat as much of her as I could. She added another finger, fucking me quicker and producing a wet, slapping sound as she screwed me harder.

“Hear how wet you are?” She smiled, “it’s gorgeous.”

“Hmm,” I replied and closing my eyes, reached for my tits and pinched my nipples, loving the tingle that instantly trembled through my cunt to intensify what Caroline was doing to me.

She kissed my fluff and ran her tongue over my clit and in response I gasped with the intensity of it all. She did it again and again, each time soliciting a deep groan of pleasure from me as my insides creamed into a lather and I rode her fingers, moving with her as she thrust in and out, in and out, each time pushing me ever close to orgasm.

“I’m going to touch your clit now.” She whispered. “And I’m going to rub it until you come. Are you ready? Is your pussy throbbing enough Rosie? Are you desperate for me to make you come?”

“Yes!”

She touched my clit and I nearly left the bench!

Suffused with lust, I begged her to fuck me, to rub my clit, to fuck me hard, anything that would finally burst this mounting bubble of want and allow me to tip over the edge into a fantastic orgasm.

And then I came, oh so fucking hard! I could feel my cunt gripping her fingers, no almost crushing them as waves of pure lust washed through me and flooded my cunt. My clit felt huge, my nipples like marbles as I came and came, Caroline’s deft fingers finding orgasm after orgasm until finally I could take no more and I had to ask her to stop.

“Really? Are you sure? What if I do this?” And she pushed her fingers even deeper inside me, curling the tips to stroke the upper roof of my cunt until I trembled and shuddered all over again, amazed there was anything left inside me still to find.

“There’s always one more.” She smiled when I finally came down from the last one. “You have such an amazing body and I want to fuck it constantly. I seriously can’t get enough of you.”

“Good, ‘cos I feel the same. And I intend to have you in my bed as often as I can manage.”

Day Twenty

I’m leaving today. I’m packed, I’ve said my goodbyes to those who I thought might give half a damn and I’m standing in the reception area waiting for someone to press the button that will mark the beginning of freedom. My parents are waiting for me outside. No doubt the car has been cleaned and polished to within an inch of its life and no doubt mum will have my favourite chocolates and a clipping from the local rag extolling my virtues. No doubt I will love it all. But I will miss Caroline.

She is coming to see me tomorrow evening, enough time for me to explain to my parents who she is and why I need her near me.

I really hope they like her.