Redeemed Love

by M. S. Brannon

  I noticed a couple of rookies like myself walk out ahead of me, and the moment they were tossed into general population, they started networking. I’d heard it’s the only way you’re going to stay alive in a place like that. Frank had warned me of this, but he seemed to be exempt from the hate-fueled looks—probably because he was old and not a threat to anyone.

  I didn’t believe it when I’d hear Tank and Victor talk about their stints in prison, however when I witnessed firsthand, I was disgusted. The white guys attached themselves to a white supremacist gang, regardless of the belief in the white population being the dominate race. The Nazi fuckers will get you to commit heinous acts to show your allegiance to their group, and all for what? Protection against other inmates. Then you’ve got the black men divided into their own section, one group never interacting with the other. Half collect on the basketball courts and the others across the way but still staying on the same side of the yard. They were rival gangs, and the tension between them was unmistakable. Lastly, the Hispanic men collect toward the middle of the yard—taking over the tables.

  I couldn’t help thinking how weak all those men were. I refused to be someone’s bitch. I’d never let my skin color dictate who I should befriend, either; and if that meant I beat a fucker down or worse, so be it. The only person I was responsible for in there was myself. And I vowed that day I would get through it the only way I knew how—with brain and brawn. Sometimes it worked in my favor and other times I was sent to the infirmary, however I managed to hold my own. This was my personal hell, and I was going to live it as best as I knew how—in total solitude. That’s until Victor, Matt’s right hand man, was sent up to I-Max and conveniently assigned as my new cellmate.

  He turned into the only lifeline I had for the next three years as I was forced to go to the deepest parts of myself and transform into the evil man I never wanted to become. I had to turn into a man I never knew existed. A man darker than the persona I created when I was dealing. I was evil. I am evil. It’s all still living inside me, and I’m not sure if it will ever leave.

  The clank of my plate snaps me back from my past and I lean forward, inhaling the intoxicating smells of greasy, American food. Using both my hands, I pick up my double burger as my mouth begins to salivate and my stomach groans in agony.

  The waitress drops off a fresh Mountain Dew and laughs. “That will be the best burger you’ll ever eat. I guarantee you that.” With that, she winks and walks away.

  I sink my teeth into the slab of meat and moan in agreement. Damn, this shit is so good.

  ***

  I inhaled my burger and guzzled down three Mountain Dews before I was ready to leave. The waitress was right when she said this was the best burger I’ve ever had because I was eating it as a free man. The little cash I had left in my commissary account paid for the meal and bus ticket. Now, I have less than two hours to appease the other appetite before I head back to the hell that is my home life—fucking a stripper.

  I’m not really sure what my attraction is to women who strip, but fuck is it hot. I used to charm women before I’d fuck them. However, the deeper I got into the underworld, my tastes and desires went darker, too. I’d usually go to the strip club to clear my head and escape Ronnie’s annoying whining, Matt’s demanding ways, and my nosy family. When Cami and I were not speaking, I was at the strip clubs a lot. I was fucking the girls I frequent on a regular basis. However, the experience in Las Vegas was the best encounter I had with a stripper. I was glad Delilah was a distraction for Jake because I spent the night only living in the persona no one in my family ever saw. It was a good night.

  As I walk down the street, thinking about what I’m about to do, my mind instantly goes back to the last night of my freedom. I was pissed with Matt for putting me in that place. I didn’t want to go to prison, but I wanted my freedom more. I needed my freedom, so there was no other choice. However, the night I spent with her, with Cami, has forever been burned into my brain.

  Of all the people I thought about in prison, Cami was always on my mind. I could feel her body attached to mine, hear her giggle at random, unfunny things, and I could fall over and over into her brown eyes. Her smile was perfect and sucked me in every second. She was and still is the woman I love. And she is the woman I had to release. I had to let her go so she could be free.

  I shake my head, not wanting to think of Cami anymore. The ache of not having my friend in my life will only sour my mood, and I can’t have that when I’m about to soothe my other appetite.

  Victor has told me there was a decent strip club called Teasers off the main road in Ionia. It takes me no time to find it, and when I pull open the door, my eyes adjust slowly to the dark room. I walk in deeper to the room and make my way over to the bar where I order a club soda and spot the room where the private dances take place.

  I stalk my prey as I move closer to the stage and see a blonde beauty grinding to “Freak on a Leash” by Korn. She looks like your typical stripper—lots of fluffy, blonde hair; large, fake tits, tan skin, and a jaw dropping smile. There isn’t anything special about her other than the fact she is good looking and would do just fine satisfying my sexual appetite.

  As I make my way into the club, I can feel the beast awaken inside me. I can feel the intensity building, my muscles hardening and my body standing taller. It takes no time to morph into my alter ego fully and part of me feels like I’m going home—back to everything familiar.

  I find a small table located in the corner of the room and watch as she works the pole. When the song comes to an end, the blonde takes a bow, picks up her clothes and walks off the stage. I wait for a few more minutes, sipping my club soda, knowing she will be out to make her rounds, and before I can think another thought, she is there, her eyes on me and mine on hers. I devour her with my gaze, needing to fuck her—hard.

  She makes her way to my table and says, “Hi, darling. What brings you here?” As the woman sits down next to me and touches my thigh, my dick hardens instantly. It feels like it’s going to break off with the amount of pressure that’s pressed into my jeans.

  I waste no time as I reply, “I just got out of I-Max; that’s what brings me here.” My voice is low and demanding while I look intently into her blue eyes. She knows what I’m looking for and wastes no time allowing her thoughts to run rampant in her head. I can see the sexual wheels turning. “Is there some place private we could go?”

  Her blue eyes light up with excitement as I give her a devious smile no woman can resist. Then she stands, pulling me up with her. We walk back through a black velvet curtain and into a dressing room. It’s filled with costumes, make-up and a bunch of girly shit when we make it to the couch.

  “No one will be in here for at least twenty minutes,” she says as she runs her hands down my chest and torso. “I may be a stripper, but I’m not a whore. I don’t expect you to pay me for this. You’re just in luck you got someone who likes to fuck, and fuck often.”

  I roll my eyes and don’t say anything. I wasn’t planning on paying her. I’ve never had to pay for it before, so why should I now? I take that back. I have given Lana money if I took her away from a busy night at the club. Okay, so maybe in one way I’ve paid for it, but I was trying to be a gentleman.

  I savagely turn her around and unfasten her bra. “You should know this is purely for my enjoyment, not yours. But I have a feeling you’ll like it anyway,” I whisper into her ear and then feel her gasp next to me. There’s something about an asshole women find attractive, and my alter ego is always an asshole.

  I slide her panties over her ass and let them drop to the floor. I grab my t-shirt and pull it over the back of my head then toss it. Her ass is poised as she bends forward over the arm of the couch, her head grazing the cushion.

  I start to stroke my dick. Slowly, deliberately. It feels like a steel rod in my hand, and with the sexual chemistry clouding the room, it won’t take long for me to come.

  “Do you have a condom?” I as
k as I continue to stroke myself. For obvious reasons, I don’t have any, and I was too eager to make a pit stop at the corner store before I came in here. I refuse to fuck anyone without one, though. I don’t care if it’s been a million years since the last time I’ve fucked, there is no way my dick is going anywhere inside of her without being wrapped up. Cami was and will always be the exception. She is always the exception to any rule I have with myself.

  The stripper sits up and turns to me, deliberating for a moment, then walks to the closet. She opens a purse and pulls a wad from the inside pocket. I take the packet into my hand and then inhale deeply. It’s then I think of the last time I had sex.

  It was an emotionally charged night, and I was torn up when I realized it would be the last time I’d ever see Cami. It wasn’t the only time we were together, but it was the most perfect. Being with Cami was earthshattering and my soul was forever changed that night. Actually, the night I met Cami is when my life forever changed.

  “Do you need help?” the blonde asks, ripping me back into the present.

  Without responding, I turn her around abruptly and push her forward. When she resumes her position over the arm of the couch, I fall back into the man I usually am when I fuck. I viciously rip the packaging off and wrap the condom around my throbbing cock. I can hear the panting in her throat as she impatiently waits for me to fuck her.

  I don’t bother pulling my jeans or boxers off; I let my pants fall to the floor but keep my boxers almost in place. This won’t take long, so why get comfortable?

  I hold my dick in my hand then begin to slide it down the top of her ass, teasing her with the tip. I’m tempted to fuck her in the ass as it’s poised in front of me, but I move further down until I land just outside of her opening. It’s very wet and ready for me to slam into her. And that is exactly what I do. I ram my dick into her pussy, and I feel the explosion of pleasure ignite in my groin. It’s been four fucking years since I felt this, and the sensation is indescribable.

  She lets out a loud moan then screams, “Yes! Harder, fuck me harder.”

  I lean down and put my lips next to her ear. “Oh, I intend to.” Then, I pull out and ram into her again. I hold her hips tightly against my body, driving myself as deeply as possible, repeating the motion over and over. With each thrust, I find myself deeper in her body, but my will power fades and I need to come. I knew this wouldn’t last long.

  I reach around and pull her nipple as I pump myself fast in and out of her. I tug on the hard bud as I fuck her with everything I’ve got. The building in my thighs, groin, and gut alerts me I’m extremely close.

  Two more hard fast thrusts and I explode inside of her. My world almost goes black as I feel every ounce of myself fill up the condom. The sensation practically brings me to my knees. It is pleasure only a free man can feel, and that’s what I am, free.

  When I begin to focus again, I pull myself out of her and dispose of the condom in the trash. I put my boxers in place and begin to pull up my jeans when she shocks me with a request I cannot refuse.

  “You know, I thought you were going to fuck me in my ass. It’s something I wouldn’t be opposed to.” She bats her eye lashes and gives me this innocent yet seductive look. She looks to the clock on the wall and back to me, holding up another condom. “We have ten more minutes before the next group of girls will be here if you’re up for it.”

  “Give me that fucking condom,” I command then snatch it out of her hand. I have to say, I am impressed. Not many women will let you fuck their ass, and in my experience, it’s the ones who need the most attention who are willing to do the nastiest sexual acts. Daddy issues probably, but I’m not judging. I’m happy to oblige when needed. It’s not my favorite thing to do, though it definitely isn’t the worst thing I could do.

  My cock is rock hard in seconds, and I sheath it with the condom as she lies back on the couch. Her ass is sitting on the arm and her back is now on the cushion. She’s looking at my dick as I stroke it again and again, teasing her with my pleasure.

  The stripper begins to touch herself. She rubs circles on her clit, making herself wetter with every movement. I watch her and stroke my dick, knowing this, too, won’t take me long. As she enters her fingers into her pussy, I watch intently as she bangs herself in front of me. Then she runs her juices down to her ass, getting it ready for me to claim.

  When I pull her forward and situate myself at the opening of her ass, her eyes dance with delight. Then, as I slowly push myself inside of her and feel the clenching tension wrap around my dick, sucking me in, I hold myself there, getting her used to my size. She sucks in a breath and continues to bang herself with her fingers, rub her clit, and pull at her nipples.

  I begin to move in and out of her slowly yet deeply. I’m not a complete jerk; I don’t want to rip her in half, but something tells me she can handle it. She wouldn’t request it if she couldn’t. So I begin to really move. My hips collide against the apple of her ass as I pull her tighter to me and fuck her, hard.

  She moans loudly, screaming out her pleasure and moments later, she comes wildly. I ram into her a couple more times and find my release again before I exhaustedly flop forward onto her chest. It takes me a moment, but soon I’m able to get up and dressed.

  As I toss the condom in the trash, I give her a slight smile and walk out of the room without a single goodbye. There is no point dwelling on awkward departures. We both knew this was about sex, so why complicate it?

  Satisfied, I make my way back outside and head toward the bus stop, knowing the rest of my life will not be as easy as this. My life at home is the reality I don’t want to face, however I’ve come to terms with what I’ve done. I did all of that to protect them, to save them, and if they cannot see that, then maybe begin with them is not where I need to be. There’s only one way to find out, and that is facing the people I love.

  “Come on, buddy. I know you’re tired, but you have to get up.” As I lightly shake his shoulder and brush his bushy brown hair from his face, he stretches his arms over his head and points his toes down. A big yawn soon follows, and then his eyes finally open.

  I look over to my son and fall in love even more. He is one of the most precious creations, and I thank God every day he is healthy and safe.

  “But, my eyes aren’t ready to wake up, Mama,” Hunter says then breaks into a big smile that stretches across his cheeks.

  I only gleam at him then pick Hunter up in my arms. He is the best part of my life, and I fall in love with him more and more each day. I carry him into the kitchen where he starts eating his breakfast as I turn on the morning music and pack lunches for the day.

  My life hasn’t been easy as a single mother, but I don’t regret a single second of it. I freaked out the moment I found out I was pregnant with Jeremy’s baby. Two months after he was arrested, I finally took a test and saw the little pink lines stating the truth. Only a year into nursing school and left to my own, I had never been so scared in my life. I had absolutely no one. My mother was dead, my lover was locked up, and my estranged father was the leader of the Sulfur Height’s drug world. I was on an island of my own. However, I was and still am determined to make the best of it. And I have.

  The black backpack Uncle Matt left me at the cemetery was filled with cash. I used it to pay for my nursing school tuition. By the time I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t have much of the money left. However, with the looming school debt off my shoulders I was able to finish my CNA classes before I gave birth and was able to secure a job at the hospital shortly after I had Hunter. When I had enrolled in school, I wanted to become an emergency room nurse then maybe eventually a physician’s assistant, but the moment I found out I was pregnant, my course of action changed. I had to be done with school before he was born so I could provide for him.

  Fast forward three years, Hunter is a healthy, happy little boy. He is smart, thoughtful and very rowdy. He’s absolutely perfect. This fall, I will be able to enroll him into preschool, a
nd hopefully, once he starts kindergarten, I can go back to school to get my nursing degree. It won’t be easy, but I want to provide for us as best as I can.

  I finish packing lunches and look at my sweet boy. He is the spitting image of his father, only darker. Hunter has thick, dark brown hair, coffee colored eyes, mile long eyelashes, and the perfect smile. And it’s when he smiles that I see Jeremy the most. Although he didn’t do it much, the slight half-smile Jeremy would randomly give me has transferred over to his son. At times, it takes my breath away and makes me mourn for Jeremy all over again. I miss him so much sometimes, but I have come to peace with the situation. I’ve had to—I have a son to raise. Over the course of time, I’ve learned to let him go. Besides, I know I have the best parts of Jeremy living with me in the form of my son.

  After I usher Hunter back to his room and start pulling out his clothes, he falls on the floor and starts playing with his Hotwheels cars. He makes the vrooming noise and spins himself around in a circle as he races. It is probably the best gift I could have ever given him. I don’t have the money to spend on big, elaborate Christmas presents, but when he opened the pack of cars, my son was over the moon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy. It was the best ten dollars I’ve ever spent.

  It’s no secret, we don’t have much, but we have what we need to survive. I still live in the little house I did with my mother, however after all these years, it needs some repairs. I couldn’t afford to move after Jeremy left because I found out I was pregnant. In turn, I had to stay in Sulfur Heights and start raising my child. The fact Jeremy is still incarcerated probably placed a factor as to why I’m still here. I refuse to let myself openly acknowledge it, though. For my own sanity, I blame still being here on being poor. However, as soon as I’m able to, I will be packing up and moving some place sunny. I’ve always wanted to go back to California. Southern California is such a beautiful place to live, and I have great memories from my childhood there.