“Mmm, yes, yes . . . fuck me,” Heaven moaned low into her burner cell, her fingers clicking away inside her wet pussy.
It was a little after one a.m., and Heaven and Officer Rawlings were on the phone, breathing heavy and talking dirty in each other’s ear. They’d been on the phone for almost an hour, before the two of them had finally begun engaging in their nightly ritual of hot, nasty phone sex.
He’d been painfully stimulated most of the conversation, his dick jutting upward, stretching over his navel as he lay on his back and teased himself, slow-stroking it until he felt his nut roiling upward, then he’d let go of his dick. He waited a few moments, then began milking it again.
Liquid arousal seeped heavy out of the tip of his dick. His balls were swollen with nut. He wanted release. Needed it. Bad.
Shit. He wished he had a fresh pair of her cunt-scented panties so he could sniff them while he jerked himself off.
Listening to Heaven’s sexy voice as she whispered through the phone, as if she were right there with him whispering in his ear, turned him on. She was addictive—everything about her was addictive. Her touch, her lips, her smile, her warm kisses, the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body, the way her mesmerizing eyes sparked fire every time he looked in them—everything.
He’d never get tired of her. She made him hungry for every part of her.
“You miss this dick, baby?”
Ever since she released from solitary—away from him, his dick—they talked on the phone late at night on his nights off. He missed her. His dick missed her. And she’d lie in her bottom bunk, listening to his voice, imagining being engulfed in his arms, while sliding in and out of her slick body.
She didn’t love him. She loved all of the possibilities of using him. And, yet, she found herself conflictingly in deep like with him.
“Mmhmm,” she cooed. “Yes, baby. I miss it . . . all of it. Yes, yes . . . mmm. My pussy’s so lonely without you.”
Rawlings smiled, languidly stroking his hard dick. He cupped his balls. “My nut sac is so heavy, baby. I can’t wait to flood that sweet pussy with all this good nut.”
Heaven rolled her hips and moaned, taking in more of her fingers. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel the weight of his hard body crushing her, his pelvis grinding into hers, the sound of flesh thump-thump-thumping. Kissing her. Squeezing her. Moving deep inside her.
“Close your eyes, baby.”
“They already are,” she said breathily.
“I’m kissing you, baby, my tongue sweeping over yours. Mm, baby. You taste so sweet; your lips, your tongue. Aah, damn, baby. I can kiss you forever.”
“Yes, yes,” Heaven whispered. A hand slid up to her right breast, a fingertip fluttering around the edges of her areola. “Kiss all over me.”
“Now my lips are sliding to the corner of your mouth until I’m”—he puckered his lips and made kissing sounds as if his lips were sliding down her skin—“slowly kissing down your jaw. My tongue traces your ear, twirling around the shell of it. Then I’m sucking your earlobe between my teeth. I can feel your body shivering, baby. You like that?”
Heaven moaned low in her throat again. Her ear was . . . oh, yes, God . . . one of her weak spots.
“Yes. I love it. I’m so wet for you.”
Rawlings groaned as he rubbed his thumb lightly over the crown of his dick, smearing the precum that drizzled out of his slit over it. His bulbous head was overly sensitive. He wanted to feel it between her lips, sliding over her tongue, hitting the back of her throat. She still hadn’t given him head, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be on her knees worshipping his dick, slurping and making love to it with that sweet mouth of hers.
“You gonna suck on this dick for me, baby?”
“Yes. I’m going to take it all in my wet mouth. Suck on your balls. Make ’em nice and wet, then slide my tongue up the underside, tracing that thick, pretty vein all the way up to the head of that thick, juicy dick.”
He moaned softly.
In his mind’s eye, he saw Heaven crawling on his king-size bed between his legs, her head dipping as she licked over his sac, rolling his balls with her mouth. He stroked his dick harder as if his hand were Heaven’s hot mouth.
“Goddamn,” he hissed, his hips shooting off his bed, arching up as if he were trying to push himself deeper in her mouth.
Rawlings closed his eyes, his imagination taking him places he’d never been, like feeling her tongue licking his asshole. He’d never had it done, never had the courage to ask a woman to journey there out of fear of being judged. He wasn’t on some gay shit. But close-minded bitches, no matter how freaky they professed to be, would think he was if he came at them with some shit like that.
Still, he wanted the experience.
Heaven took him out of his comfort zone.
Made him want to be wild and uninhibited. He wasn’t a prude. In fact, he was very open-minded. He enjoyed giving pleasure as much as he received it.
A lot actually.
And he wanted nothing more than to please his baby. But right now, he wanted his dick sucked, and his balls licked.
“Yeah, baby. Get up all on them balls. Lick ’em for me, baby . . .”
Heaven pulled her two wet fingers from her body and put them to her lips. She kissed the tips as if it was the head of his dick, swirled her tongue over them, then moaned. “Mm. I love this dick. It tastes so good.”
“Yeah, baby. Suck that shit.”
She slid her fingers into her mouth and greedily sucked him, her juicy mouth making sweet suckling sounds in his ear.
Heaven looked up at the mattress overhead and bit back her moan as Sabina stirred in her bunk. She hoped she hadn’t heard her.
She held her breath for a moment. When all she heard was Sabina’s growling snore again, she resumed sucking her fingers as she used her free hand and alternated between each of her breasts, toying with her nipples.
And then she told him, low and raspy, how her tongue was skirting along the ridge of his dick, then flitting tiny licks up and down his shaft, streaking it with her saliva, before taking it into her mouth.
Rawlings’ dick jerked in his hand as he imagined the warmth of her mouth engulfing him.
“Mmm, daddy,” she murmured. “My head is bobbing back and forth taking your dick deeper, deeper. Aah, yes . . . fuck my mouth, baby. Make it your pussy. Bust your batter down my throat.”
Rawlings had gotten so caught up in the moment that he started panting hard, clutching the bed sheet with one hand, while he increased his hand speed, his hand swiftly moving up and down his shaft.
He growled out, “It’s coming, baby . . . aaah, shit . . . aaah, shit . . .”
“Mm, yes. Give it to me. Flood my mouth, daddy . . .”
His hand pumped the base of his dick as he began groaning.
“Aaargh, aarrrrrgh . . . uhhh . . . take this nut . . .”
His body shuddered. His nut shot up in the air.
Long, thick streams of it, splashing over his chest and hitting under his chin.
Several seconds ticked by, both of them trying to steady their breaths, before Officer Rawlings blew a breath into the phone. “God. Damn, baby. I needed that. But I need you more.”
Heaven smiled. “Me too.”
She glanced at the clock. 3:17 a.m. She needed to hang up and get some sleep. Soon. The housing officer would be coming around to complete his tour, and she wanted to wash up and put her phone up, before she got caught with it.
She yawned. “I have to go.”
“No doubt, baby. Thanks for the nut.”
“No. Thank you. You made my night,” she told him.
“A’ight, baby. Go get some sleep. I’ma need another pair of them panties, a’ight?”
She shook her head, smiling. “I’ll have a pair ready for you.”
And she would.
Fresh washed pussy in a pair of red-laced panties.
“My baby. That’s what’s up. You really know how to keep a smile on your man’s face, don’t you?”
“Always,” she whispered.
She blew him a kiss, then disconnected, falling asleep around three a.m.
• • •
She heard the sound of running water and the depressing echo of cell doors sliding open before her lids fluttered open.
The time was six a.m.
Ugh.
She was exhausted.
Shortly after her call ended with CO Rawlings in the wee-hours of the morning, she’d drifted into what had started out as a peaceful slumber until she’d started dreaming of her first love.
Desmond.
Dez for short.
He’d been her first boyfriend, and her first love.
Tall, hard-bodied, dark-chocolate—everything fairytales and dreams were made of. The moment she’d laid eyes on him and his crooked grin, she’d become enamored. And he had wanted to have the young beauty, before anyone else sank their dick in her. And he’d snatched her up. Quick.
It’d been her freshman year, second semester, at UConn—the University of Connecticut. She was seventeen. Naïve. A virgin. And happy to be from under the overprotective thumbs of her brothers and father.
He was nineteen. Hood. Promiscuous. And obsessed with stacking money.
It had taken him almost a year, before she’d given up her virginity—his meaty, curved dick, stretching her tender cunt. He’d fucked her until tears burst from her eyes, until her burning pussy erupted in pleasure.
Afterward, he asked her how it felt. “Painfully good,” she said, and he kissed her, then rolled her on top of him and showed her how to ride him, the curve of his dick hitting parts of her soul she never knew existed. She rode him—looking him in his dark-brown eyes, him instructing her how to change the rhythm, slowing down and speeding up; her ass clapping, her pussy coating his shaft until he slid in and out of her body with inexplicable ease and pleasure.
They kept at it—fucking, until she was skilled at it. Until her cunt became his personal sheath. He became her dark knight in shining jewelry. She—his arm candy, his sweet piece of ass. And, together, they’d been a beautiful couple. But, barely two years into the relationship, he began putting his hands on her. Mushing her in the head at first. Then came the snatching her up. Followed by open-handed slaps.
If another guy looked at her, he’d have a problem. If she looked over in some random guy’s direction too long, he’d have a problem. If she wasn’t accessible to him when he wanted her to be, he had a problem.
Suddenly, she’d found herself sucked into his world of danger, hiding her new life from her family, her grades failing, risking her freedom and her safety. All for love.
It’d taken her almost four years—and three STDs later, just shy of her graduation, to realize that the Hartford-bred thug was no good for her.
His drug dealing and weed smoking, she had been able to overlook. After all, he’d pamper her, buy her whatever she wanted; basically gave her the world. But the guns and his happy-handed attempts at controlling her, and all the other bitches in his life that she’d had to fight, had taken a toll on her. She couldn’t put up with it any longer.
He’d been a liar, a cheater, and a damn woman beater.
She’d fought back—always. And stabbed him once. Suddenly, things between them had gotten better, filled with almost six months of bliss. And then he slipped back into the streets and his old womanizing ways.
The only thing consistent was, him fucking her good. He was insatiable. No matter who else he’d give his dick to, he never had enough of her.
But she’d had enough of him.
So, with her college degree in hand—and three trunks stuffed with designer clothes and expensive handbags and heels—she climbed in the backseat of her father’s Benz and cried her eyes out, leaving him and her broken heart behind.
Never looking back.
She’d left Connecticut nothing like the way she’d come. She’d arrived as an inexperienced girl from the suburbs, but left as a woman with a love for the hood.
And a voracious sex drive.
Heaven shook her head. She felt sudden disgust, plus anger at herself that she’d awaken with her panties wet.
Why, after all these years had he come into her conscience?
That had been a lifetime ago, the two of them. She hadn’t thought of Desmond in years. But somehow he’d found a way to rob her—of what had started out as the ending of a very bliss-filled night, planting himself inside her head.
And then came the images of Freedom. Though he had never laid hands on her or given her an STD, he’d always reminded her, in many ways, of her first love.
Desmond and Freedom had a lot in common.
Hustlers. Liars. Cheaters.
And damn good fucks.
Consequently, they’d both made a fool of her time and time again until she’d reached a breaking point. One, she’d finally walked away from. The other, she’d shot.
Why couldn’t she have walked away from Freedom’s ass as well? If she had, she wouldn’t be here. She’d be on the other side of this wall, living her damn life.
Fucking men!
Bottom line, her choices in them had always been fucking horrible.
Heaven finally opened her eyes. Bright sunshine flooded the cell. She groaned and shut her eyes again. A curtain. No, no. Blackout curtain. That’s what that tiny cell window needed.
Heaven groaned again, catching a glimpse of all of Sabina’s cosmetics scattered out across the desk. An open jar of Noxema. Hair spray. Styling gel. Tweezers. Emery board. Enough makeup to stock a cosmetics counter. Brushes. Pencils. Liquid eyeliner. Mascara. Bronzer. Eyelash curler. Eye shadow. Lipsticks.
“Good mornin’,” Sabina muttered, hovering over the sink brushing her teeth.
Heaven sniffed and threw back the sheet. “Morning.” Rubbing her eyes, she stood and staggered to the toilet to relieve herself, sliding the privacy sheet around the toilet.
She’d had to learn how to coexist with Sabina in such close proximity. Basic things like using the toilet came with some understanding. Growing up, she’d always had her own bathroom. So she’d never had to share one with other females, until now. Pissing was fine. Taking a shit—while your cellmate was still in the cell—was a no-no, unless you were locked in. Then it required complimentary flushes.
Heaven lined the steel commode with several layers of toilet paper, then slid her panties down over her hips and sat.
She heard Sabina rinsing her mouth, then spitting in the sink. “Bad dreams?” Sabina asked once she stepped away from the sink.
Heaven wiped herself, flushed, then pulled her panties up and slid back the sheet. “Huh?” she asked, washing her hands at the sink.
“You were tossing and groaning in your sleep, like around four thirty this morning. Dreams?”
Heaven grunted, looking over at Sabina as she swept her hair up into a ponytail. “Try nightmare.”
“Care to share?”
Heaven shrugged slightly. “Not really. It’s too early to rehash.”
“Oh. That bad, huh?”
“Men aren’t shit,” she stated, wrapping her body into her robe, then peeling out of her panties. She neatly folded them, before slipping the lacy undergarment inside a small plastic Ziploc bag. She slid the zipper closed, sealing in her scent. She wanted CO Rawlings to get a burst of her essence the moment he unsealed the bag.
Sabina eyed her, wondering why the hell she was once again sealing her panties in a plastic baggie. But she let it go. She grunted. “Mmph. Ain’t that the truth. Most of us behind bars are here because of a man in some form or fashion. Then abandoned and left to survive on our own while he’s out there doing God knows what with some replacement bitch. Does that make us fools?”
Heaven gave her a somber look. “Yes. And dumb as hell.”