by Cairo
“Are you sure you don’t want me to open the trap?”
“No. I said open the door.”
And then Heaven heard the key slide into the lock. The lock turned. The steel-plated door swung open. Then came two sets of feet—a man’s in shiny black boots, and a woman’s in gray designer pumps—entering her cell.
The woman’s heels clicked against the cemented floor as she stepped further into the cell. Very expensive pumps, she knew.
The CO stood behind the woman and slyly licked his lips as the woman blinked at the sight before them. There was inmate Lewis in a handstand up against the wall, her legs spread wide in a V. Her pussy exposed; her breasts, plump and perky.
The warden cleared her throat. “Miss Lewis, I’m Warden Kate. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being formally introduced.”
“And?” she said nastily.
“I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if that is all right with you?”
Heaven’s eyes rolled upward, taking in the upside-down view of the warden and CO. She wondered if she worn panties underneath that fancy skirt she had on.
She grunted. “Mmph. Where were you when I needed you a week ago?”
Warden Kate crossed her arms over her blouse. “Well, I don’t know. Perhaps I was in a meeting. But I’m here now. So can we talk?”
Right leg came from off the wall, then she extended it forward.
Mygod, she’s limber, the warden thought as she watched in amazement, as the inmate’s pussy seemed to open up like a budding flower. Sweet, pretty petals in full bloom.
“Well, Warden Kate—or whatever the hell your name is. You’re a fistfight too late. Thanks to that CO bitch, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“Yes. About that,” the warden replied, stepping further into the cell. “I’d like to talk more in depth about the incidents that led up to Three East turning into a scene for the next Hunger Games.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I asked to be moved. That CO bitch told me—and I quote—‘get the fuck away from my desk’ and I asked to speak to someone above her pay grade. And, then the bitch tried to shine on me.”
“You’re speaking of Officer O’Neal?”
“Yeah, that bitch! I came at her like a woman, and instead of that jagged-tooth bitch doing her damn job, she tried to be messy. That ho should have gotten more than a chair to her face. I hope the shit broke her nose.”
The warden decided to let her vent.
“I’m done talking. Tell that GED-having bitch I said, next time an inmate comes to her with a problem to handle her business like a professional. If she doesn’t like her job, then she shouldn’t be here. That lazy bitch probably makes close to six-figures to sit on her ass and push buttons. The least she could do is, do her damn job with a smile.”
“You’re absolutely right,” the warden agreed. “I will personally look into it.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you will.”
Right leg back against the wall, left leg off the wall. She extended it into a half split. The CO wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. The erotic sight made the air in the cell hotter than it already was.
“Why is it so hot in here?” the warden asked, giving the CO a dissatisfied look. Not once did she address him by his name, but he knew better than anyone that the warden was not one to toy with.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure, Warden.” He suddenly felt sweat slide down his back. “I think it’s the heat from the vents.” Yeah. The heat sliding from the slit of her sweet pussy.
“Whaat?” she shrieked, glaring at him from over her shoulder. “In the middle of May? Are you kidding me? Are all the cells hot like this?”
“I believe so,” he answered cautiously. He braced himself in the event she flew into one of her fits.
“I want maintenance down here, now. And I want this addressed immediately. This is unacceptable.”
He let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t flown into a rage. “Yes, Warden. I’ll put in a work order today.”
“No. You’ll call them and tell them I said to get down here. Not now, right now.”
Nothing more needed to be said. Seconds later, he was pulling his radio from its holder, and radioing in for maintenance. The warden waited for him to finish, then returned her attention back to the naked beauty in front of her.
“Miss Lewis, do you mind coming from off the wall, and perhaps slipping into your jumper while you and I talk.” She motioned for the CO to step out of the cell to give them more privacy. He obliged, but not before taking another sly glance at Heaven, his gaze zooming in on her beautiful, hairy pussy.
Heaven stifled a snicker. I bet his dick is so hard I could crack walnuts with it.
He shifted his gaze before the warden caught him, and reluctantly stepped out of the cell, standing by the door in case something popped off. He’d hate to have to yank the inmate up if she jumped up in the warden’s face. He didn’t want to have to choose one over the other. But he would.
It was his job.
His obligation.
“CO!” another inmate called out from cell four.
“What, Malone?” he snapped, annoyed. He couldn’t stand her whiny ass.
“I need for you to tell the warden I wanna see her next.”
Bitch, go sit your trick-ass down somewhere. “Yeah, a’ight,” he replied. But he wasn’t telling the warden shit. Fuck her. He saw the tape. Saw how she and her punk-ass homies jumped his future girl. But she’d put in that work. Beat the fuck out of Evan’s ass.
Corny-ass hoodrats.
He peered inside the cell to check in on the warden. Lewis had come from off the wall and was now sitting on her bed, a sheet wrapped around her body.
“This is what I’m going to need from you, Miss Lewis,” the warden stated. “I need you to stop all this violence.”
“Tell me, Warden. Do you like pussy?”
Unflinching, the warden kept her eyes on her. “Miss Lewis, crudity is not acceptable. So if you’re looking to get a rouse out of me, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. You’re much better than this.”
“Lady, you don’t know shit about me,” Heaven snapped. Her tone was low, her voice calm. But her icy glare spoke volumes. “So you can kiss my ass with the rest of these bitches.”
“Language, young lady,” the warden calmly said, unfazed by her profanity. “I’m here to help you.”
Heaven frowned. “Unless you have a dick underneath that skirt of yours, you can’t help me with shit. Now do us both a favor, love, and see yourself out of my cell.”
The warden didn’t budge.
Heaven stared at her, long and hard. “Did you hear me? I said get the fuck out.”
The warden didn’t blink. “Miss Lewis, I’m not your enemy. And—”
“You’re not my friend, either, so”—she flicked her hand at her—“go back to wherever the hell you came from. I’m good.”
The CO reentered the cell, not liking how she was coming at the warden. His jaw tightened. He kept his mouth shut, though. After all her years as a corrections officer, he knew the warden could still handle herself, if she had to.
The warden sighed. “Though I am certain you didn’t start what happened over on Three East . . .”
“You’re right. I didn’t. I finished it. That ho came at me from the moment I stepped in that nasty-ass cell. Trying to antagonize me. So I snatched her scalp. And beat her ass.”
“That as it may be. You practically beat her into a coma.”
“Good. Next time, it’ll be the grave. I’m not here to be fucked with. I’m here to do my time and get the hell home. Period.”
“And I’d like nothing more than to see that happen,” the warden assured her. “However, for now, you’ll be serving ninety days for your role in the violence that occurred over on Three East. Afterwards, when you’re released at the end of August, you can start with a clean slate. But I am going to need for you to focus more on programming so that you can eve
ntually return back to your community as a productive member of society, instead of being a problem in my prison.”
Heaven narrowed her eyes at the warden. There was something remarkably familiar in her eyes. She’d seen it before. Many times.
“Lady, I’m already productive,” she spat. “So maybe you should focus on your own problem, instead of focusing on me—or my return to society. Because, trust me, hon. I am no career criminal.”
“Which is why I want you to program.”
Heaven scoffed. “Maybe you should program.”
The warden blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I am not your problem. You are.” She got up from her bunk and dropped her sheet. Then boldly sashayed her bare ass over to the far wall, looking out the tiny cell window.
The warden and the CO both willed their eyes from sliding a caressing gaze over Heaven’s voluptuous ass.
The CO swallowed. He needed to shake the thoughts of him sliding his dick into her body from his mind. The last thing he needed was a hard dick in front of the warden. He took a step back, then shifted his eyes to the chipped paint on one of the walls.
The warden diverted her stare to the back of Heaven’s head, folding her arms. This rude bitch! She pushed out a breath. “Tell me, Miss Lewis. What is it I can do for you to help you acclimate to prison life?”
“You see this?” she asked crudely as she faced the warden and pointed to her crotch. The warden gave her a blank stare. “It’s hairy, lady. I want a razor and some cream so I can shave it.”
The warden turned back and looked at the CO. “Make sure she gets what she’s asked for.” He nodded, silently disappointed that she wanted to shave her curly bush. He wanted to run his fingers through her pubic hairs before dipping them inside her creamy heat.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, quickly shifting his eyes from the beautiful thatch of hair between her legs.
The warden turned her attention back to Heaven. “There. You’ll have it here in time for this evening’s shower. Anything else?”
Heaven pursed her lips, turning back to the window and staring out at the rosebushes that lined the edges of the perimeter, blocking her view from anything else.
She loved roses. She’d grown up all around them. Her father had an array of colorful rosebushes planted all over their neatly manicured yard in the suburbs of Northern New Jersey, where she’d lived most of her childhood. Clusters of red and pink and yellow rosebushes always scented the air. And, now seeing them outside her window, suddenly reminded her of her deceased father, Lincoln Lewis.
He’d died a little over six years ago. And she hadn’t quite gotten over it. His death had been a shock. One moment he was alive; the next moment he was gone. He’d gotten behind the wheel of his Suburban and ran into a telephone pole en route to Loew’s to pick up more rosebushes.
He’d had a heart attack behind the wheel.
Her whole family had been devastated. But his death had hit Heaven the hardest. He’d been her everything. He’d practically raised her and her three brothers singlehandedly, while working as a plant supervisor for Anheuser-Busch brewery. He, along with her overly protective brothers, doted on her, spoiling her rotten.
Their mother, Vivian, however, spent most of her days in a fog, and her nights passed out on the sofa, drooling. Other times, lying in her vomit.
As a young girl, she’d watched her father and brothers clean her up, then roll her into bed. For years, Vivian had hidden her—
Heaven turned her head and blinked the warden back into view.
And then . . .
Suddenly, she knew what it was, that familiar look.
She saw . . . her.
“Yeah, Warden. One more thing,” Heaven finally said.
“What is it, Miss Lewis?”
“Vodka, right?”
The warden blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Your drink of choice,” she said. “It’s vodka, right?”
The warden’s eyes hid their surprise; she kept her composure.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Heaven gave her a pitiful look. “They never do. Denial is a terrible thing, Warden.”
The CO shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as the warden stood there, eyeing her, her jaw twitching.
And in that moment, Heaven saw her mother’s reflection staring back at her. Hidden behind expensive cosmetics and her designer suit, she saw the warden for who she was. She saw the woman beneath the mask.
A closeted-alcoholic.
Just as her own mother had been.
SEVEN
After The Candles Burn . . .
Shortly after the eleven-to-seven shift captain assigned to solitary made his one a.m. rounds, then signed the black logbook, he left the unit.
The CO waited another thirty minutes, then quietly made his way toward cell twelve. At the far end, tucked in the corner. He’d come in early for overtime.
And some pussy.
It’d been almost three days since he’d been inside her clutching heat, and he was practically going out of his mind with want. His dick didn’t discriminate. He’d had his share of many flavors, attached to all types of women—white, Asian, Latina, Caribbean, German, Italian, Moroccan, Egyptian, French, and the notches on his bedposts went on.
Good pussy was good pussy no matter who it belonged to. But her pussy was top-notch. In fact, it was banging. Even with a condom on, the shit was superb. Tight, juicy, deep, hot as fuck. Not many broads had been able to make his toes curl by just fucking. Yet, she’d managed to—not only curl his toes, but make his vision blur every time he bust inside her. Every time he fucked her, his release was an endless stream of nut, thick and hot, flooding his condom to capacity.
She undid him. Every time. Her whispers, her gasps, her low moans, begging for him to fuck her, harder, deeper, rang in his ears long after he was done with his shift.
He couldn’t deny how he loved the way her body spasmed around him. Loved the way she bit his neck; clawed at his back, his ass, marking her territory. Fuck if he didn’t want to know how she felt raw.
And tonight—if she’d let him, he would.
His heart pounded as his breath escaped in an excited rush. He could literally see her on her bunk, her legs spread wide, her sweet cunt already glistening with desire.
He knew the officers in central control, and the ones in the small control room outside of solitary were too busy doing their own dirt, to keep up with what was about to go down. He wouldn’t be missed for at least another half hour. And he’d have his radio on low in case someone needed to reach him.
He’d already made it his business to sneakily keep her cell door unlocked when he’d had her out last for her shower, before the lights went out. He’d walked her back to her cell, then shut the door, sliding his key into its lock and pretending as if he were locking it.
The captain diligently came through to complete his rounds, but he never checked any of the cell doors. He trusted the CO to keep things running smoothly and all inmates properly secured in their cells.
He made another quick round on the unit, door-to-door, peeking in to see which inmates were still up. Everyone was in her bed, except Goldie Malone’s fucking gang-banging ass.
Nosy bitch.
He shook his head, as he finished his rounds, then quietly entered his prison beauty’s cell. His dick began to thicken and stretch the minute he slipped inside.
A predatory gleam flickered in his eyes as his gaze raked over her beautiful body. He couldn’t wait to ravish her, with his mouth, his fingers and finally . . . with his dick.
“Come eat my pussy,” she whispered, spreading her legs as he made his way toward her bunk. She pulled open her labia, sliding her fingers along her seam, smearing her juices over her clit and swollen lips.
She’d waited patiently all evening for this moment. The anticipation had her seeping with arousal. Her pussy became slic
ker by the moment waiting, waiting . . . waiting.
He’d been sneaking in her cell, almost every other night for the last two weeks, starting with the night after the warden had come to her cell. The purpose of that drunk bitch’s visit was still a mystery to her, but her gut told her it wouldn’t be the last time she and the good ole warden would be seeing each other.
Perhaps she’d been too curt with her. She should have been a more gracious hostess, maybe offer her a taste of her pussy as a little welcome treat.
Yeah okay.
Bitch bye.
She shook thoughts of her visit from the warden out of her head. She needed her attention—all of it—on the man quickly stepping out of his uniform pants. His dick sprung free as he tugged off his boxers and crawled onto her tiny bunk, between her legs.
She heard him suck in his breath as her flesh greeted him.
No words were needed.
In silence, he gripped her hips, then slid his hands around to her ass and cupped the globes in his big, warm palms. His head dipped and he ran the tip of his tongue over her clit, then French-kissed her pussy. He licked and licked and licked, lapping at her slit as if it was a delicious treat.
Oh and it was.
Holy fucking hell, it was.
Hot silk.
That’s what her pussy was to him.
“So beautiful,” he breathed out. Then his tongue swiped across her slit and upward to her clit.
“Mmm, yes,” she murmured. “Let me come on your tongue.”
He licked over her folds, tasting more of her. His tongue slid greedily back inside her body, and he groaned against her flesh as she clutched, her walls squeezing his tongue, her orgasm rippling out in tiny waves.
Her nectar filled his mouth, and coated his lips. Goddamn. She tasted delicious. She was warm and sweet, like honey. He sucked her long and hard, his mouth swiping over her cunt, from her slit to her swollen clit. Savoring all of her.
She moaned as he lapped between her folds, sweetly whispering over her clit. That felt delicious, his tongue on her clit, but still, she wanted more. Needed more. Her pussy was so ready for him. And, yet, she craved a taste of her juices, sucking on his lips, her tongue swirling over and around his.