Prison Snatch

by Cairo

  She gasped and her entire body spasmed.

  “Fuck me in it,” she murmured.

  He glanced at his watch. Time was ticking away. He had to hurry this along. And yet she was so tight there. He knew once he worked his dick inside her ass, it would grip him tighter than a fist.

  The thought had him ready to come. Now.

  Shit. He looked down at his thrashing dick. It would take at least ten minutes—or more, to prime and ready her sweet ass for it. Time he didn’t have.

  He cursed under his breath, both happy and relieved that she’d wanted him to take her ass and that it wasn’t loose already, but shit . . .

  “I gotta get back inside your pussy, baby,” he groaned. “Gotta come, fast.”

  She shifted her body. “No, no. Let me ride you,” she said, her voice a hot whisper as she reached between his legs. And when he opened his mouth to protest (being on his back took away his control, and he didn’t like not being in control), her hazel eyes flashed a blaze of desire that caused him to emit a hot sigh when her hand stroked his dick.

  His whole body vibrated with lust. And without a word, he lay on his back and watched through lust-brimmed eyes as she climbed on top of him—her pussy all open and glistening wet—then bound forward and reached between them and held onto his dick. It thumped in her hand in anticipation of her sliding her sweet cunt down onto his shaft.

  Holy shit. He was really doing this. Giving her control.

  He gripped her ass as she smoothly impaled herself, rocking down on it until she took him all the way down to the base. A moan escaped her. Then him.

  His hips moved upward matching hers. “Yeah, fuck me,” he said, then lifted his head and alternately sucked her tits.

  They both moaned as her clit pressed against his body just above the base of his dick, and then everything inside of her washed out over him.

  “Aah, this pussy good . . . fuck this dick,” he hissed as she leaned forward and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth, taking his breath, hotly and intensely—while she rode him, fast and hard.

  She watched as he closed his eyes during their heated kisses. She liked him. God, she really, really did.

  She fucked him wildly—with hot abandon, galloping up and down on him until his eyes rolled up in his head behind his closed lids.

  She bit his lips as she came, her orgasm violently sweeping through her body like a tornado. She kept riding him, her pussy sucking him further into its wet clutch.

  “God, yes, baby. I-I-I . . . aaah, shit . . . love you . . . uh, uh, uhhh . . .”

  His orgasm wasn’t far behind, and she covered his mouth with her hand as he growled out in pleasure, his body convulsing beneath her.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Wild Cookie . . .

  Heaven sucked in her breath. Had she heard him right? She was pretty sure she had, but . . . in the heated moment the room had been spinning and she’d been moaning and all she heard was her heart pulsing in her ears.

  No, no—she couldn’t have heard him correctly.

  “I love you . . .”

  She closed her eyes. Replayed their passionate night in the infirmary, rewinding to everything before their orgasms.

  “I love you . . .”

  Her eyes flew open. Oh, God, no. She had heard him right. Those three words were the last thing she’d expected to hear from him—or any other man. Not here, not now.

  That’s not what she was here for.

  Love.

  Love . . . that little dirty motherfucking word was what got her here. She hadn’t heard those words—I love you—from a man since . . . Freedom.

  She brought her eyes closed again, then slowly opened. She couldn’t deal with this right now. All she wanted to do was concentrate on reading her—

  “Hey, Heaven,” someone said; her tone was just above a whisper.

  Heaven placed the book she was reading, The Prisoner’s Wife, by Asha Bandele up to her chest, its worn pages (from many years of handling by countless hands) pressed to her breasts. She’d found the book on the tier and decided to read it. So far she was enjoying it.

  She looked over at a square-bodied, spectacled woman with brown frizzy hair, who looked to be in her mid-thirties and was built like a Transformer, meekly staring back at her.

  “Yes.”

  “I was wondering if I can rent out”—she glanced around the tier, making sure no one else was around to hear her—“you know. One of your . . . toys?”

  Ever since she’d gotten her sex toys from Rawlings over three weeks ago, she’d been renting the items out to a select group of women on the housing unit. And, thanks to Greta who’d planted the idea in her head, she’d been building up a nice little clientele. She kept record of each transaction and the initial of each inmate in a journal, indicating date checked out, and date returned almost like a library card.

  But this woman here, she’d never done business with.

  Heaven slid from her bed and walked over to her. She stared at her acne-studded forehead for a moment longer than she probably should have, before locking her gaze on hers.

  “Exactly what toys are you speaking of?”

  The woman looked around again. “One of your dildos,” she whispered.

  Heaven tilted her head. “Well, before we go any further. I need to inform you of the terms.” She paused, and the woman stared intently, waiting for her to continue. “First, you must have a clean pussy. I don’t do business with women with filthy hygiene.”

  “Oh, I’m very clean,” she quickly assured. “No bad odors. I wash and shower daily.”

  “Good. Second, you pay up front. No layaways, and no IOUs. You wanna play, you gotta pay.”

  The woman nodded. “Okay.”

  “Third, you must bring each rental back in the same condition it was given to you. It must be washed and cleaned.”

  “Okay.”

  “Fourth, if you bring it back late, you’ll be charged a late fee—six cans of mackerel for every thirty minutes it’s late. Fifth, you must—and I can’t stress this enough—wrap it in a glove.”

  The woman nodded. “Okay.”

  “Six, if you get caught with it and it gets confiscated. Then it’s your debt to bear. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. Now, tell me. How long are you looking to rent for?”

  She leaned in a little closer, and Heaven could smell her minty breath. “Well, I was hoping for the whole night.”

  Heaven smiled. “Oh, you a greedy one. Huh?”

  The woman’s lips spread into a toothy, shy grin. “And I was hoping for that real big one.”

  Mirth shone in Heaven’s gaze. “You sure you want that one?”

  The woman nodded. “I’m sure,” she said, her tone serious. “It’s been one of my fantasies. To be, well, you know . . .” She paused, gauging Heaven’s expression, “with a big one,” she said in a whisper. “I’ve never done it with, well . . . a black man. I’d never do it in real life, though. But here—”

  Heaven lifted a brow but didn’t say anything, not wanting to embarrass her any more than she already was. And, well, it didn’t matter what the woman’s fantasies were while she was fucking herself as long as she was willing to pay for them.

  Heaven put a hand up to stop her. “Say no more.” She briskly walked back over and pulled out a plastic bin from beneath her bunk and pulled out Cockzilla (she kept the severely long phallus wrapped in a towel), then sashayed back over toward, um . . .

  “I didn’t get your name,” Heaven said, cradling the towel-wrapped dildo in her arms like a baby.

  “Oh, right. It’s Penelope. After my grandmother.”

  “Oh. Well, nice doing business with you. This one here is going to cost you four books of stamps for all night.” A book of twenty stamps cost nine dollars on commissary, but had a street value of only six dollars in prison. And at Croydon Hill, postage stamps and cans of mackerel were the predominant currency used.

  Heaven sl
id the towel back the way a proud mother would her newborn baby, giving the salivating woman a peek of what she’d be getting.

  Penelope’s eyes widened as she sucked in her bottom lip. “Yes, yes. That’s the one I want.”

  Heaven smiled. “Then you had better show me the money.”

  • • •

  A few hours later, Heaven made her way down to the second tier, speaking to a few inmates as she sauntered toward the cell of an inmate by the name of Annie-Mae. Annie-Mae had been incarcerated for the last four years for endangering the welfare of a child and kidnapping and burglary. She’d taken her three children to Texas without their father’s permission. And then was arrested when she refused to return to N.J. with the kids.

  “What’s going on, Annie-Mae?” asked Heaven as she discreetly slid into her cell. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to return my property.” Heaven placed a hand up on her hip. “You’ve had it out for more than four days. And you haven’t said one word to me about it.”

  The sandy-brown-haired Albanian stood from her desk, and said in her thick accent, “I’ll get it back to you tonight.”

  Heaven tilted her head, and her jaw clenched. “Bitch, this is unacceptable. You’re cutting into my coins.” She had three women on the wait list to use the sex toy, and this ho was hogging the vibrator.

  The woman apologized. “I, well . . . see, I let my bunkie use it, and then . . .” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “And then—”

  “So you loaned my shit out without my permission?”

  “Sort of,” she admitted. “But I was supposed to have it back two nights ago, and, well . . .”

  Heaven’s nose spread. She didn’t have all night with this bitch. “Look. Do you have payment for the late fees?”

  “Well, not at the—”

  The rest of her sentence was cut off by a large can of mackerel hitting her in the mouth. Heaven split her bottom lip, then hit her upside the head with the can.

  The woman’s hand flew up to her mouth, and her eyes widened in shock.

  “Ohmygod! You bust my lip.”

  “And I’ll bust your skull if I don’t get my shit back, Annie-Mae—with the interest you owe, because if not, I’m going to claw your goddamn eye out like I did that bitch over on Four East. You have until noon tomorrow.”

  And with that, she quickly slid out of the woman’s cell and headed back up to the high-rises up on the third floor. God, she didn’t want to resort to violence. But that was what some bitches only understood. So if she had to resort to barbaric measures, then she would.

  And, for good measure, she’d sic Clitina on her ass.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Simon Says . . .

  “What is it now, Lewis?” the sergeant asked smugly as he sat back in his chair and practically eye-fucked her. Instantly, his dick swelled against his uniform pants.

  It was second shift, a little after six in the evening. And she was practically off the housing unit to finish up her last night of extra duty, when Bitchy-ass Harris—God, she hated that bitch—(she was covering overtime again)—called her back and told her she needed to get down to the sergeants’ office.

  So here she was—part annoyed, part bubbly with determination; a mixture of irritation and arousal managed to flash in her expression. She’d requested to see him over three weeks ago, and the bastard took his slow sweet time to finally grace her with an audience. Whatever.

  She had to race back up to her cell to freshen up a bit. She quickly changed out of her jumper and slipped on a pair of panty briefs. Then slipped on one of her baggy jumpers (well, you know—only in case she needed to slide her hand down into her panties), but she’d pulled her hair back in a sleek bun and shellacked her lips in her favorite orange lipstick. She wanted them dick-sucking shiny and deliciously enticing.

  Then she rolled on a scent by Viktor & Rolf called Flowerbomb. The CO Miss Kimberly had slipped her two samplers on the sly, then placed a finger to her lips, before walking off.

  So she decided to roll the perfume along the back of her neck and behind her ears, then down the center of her breasts, and in the crook of each arm, making sure the fruity, floral scent lingered around him—even after she was gone.

  “Tonight’s my last night of cleaning detail, Sir,” she said sweetly.

  “Yeah, and? You want a medal?”

  No—just my shit. She shook her head, feeling herself go hot with anger. She inhaled sharply, then slowly blew her agitation out through her nose. “I wanted to know if I would be able to have my personal belongings returned to me”—you know the shit you stole from me?—“or at least my television and other devices.”

  Sergeant Struthers sneered. “Ho, look around you.” Heaven glanced around the office, purposefully taking him literal. “Where the fuck you think you at?”

  She bit the inside of her lip. “Prison,” she said softly. God—why couldn’t she stab him in his neck, then leave him for dead?

  “That’s right, prison. You bitches think you can come up in here and freeload off taxpayers’—”

  “Excuse me, Sir. No disrespect. But I’m not freeloading off of anyone. I bought those things that had been taken from me for no reason from out of my own damn money. You did what you did to me, then turned around and stole all my shit from out of my cell.”

  Struthers stood to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to hide the heavy bulge between his legs. “I did to your dick-sucking ass what you wanted me to. Don’t get it fucked up. Your trick-ass wanted dick, and so I gave it to you.”

  Heaven blinked several times, but she kept her cool. “That was some dirty shit what you did, though,” she said. “And you know it.”

  “It’s called life. And life sometimes gets dirty. And it isn’t always fair. Get over it. This is my house. And in my house, you bitches do what I say. You understand that?”

  Heaven crossed her arms over her midsection, and the gesture inadvertently plumped her breasts up more than they already were, pushing them upward until they strained against her jumper, her cleavage practically spilling out.

  Struthers choked back a groan. He swore he could almost see her nipples, and felt his dick stir. “Now what you wanna do to get your shit back?”

  “Well, I want a do-over,” she boldly stated, catching his gaze on her breasts. She placed both her hands on her hips. Then let out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t want to be handcuffed, like some damn slave on an auction block. And I don’t want that ugly CO bitch watching while I’m down on my knees worshipping you.”

  Struthers stared at her and gritted his teeth. This pretty bitch with the plump, juicy lips was really fucking asking for it.

  “Lewis, get the fuck out my office, before I write your ass up.”

  • • •

  As Heaven finished cleaning the last three toilet stalls, she spotted a bunch of little writings on one of the doors. She narrowed her eyes.

  I NEED MY COCK SUCKED

  BLACK BITCHES HAVE THE BEST ASS

  I WANT SOME ASIAN PUSSY

  WHO WANTS THIS BIG COCK?

  STRUTHERS SUX LITTLE COCK

  She shook her head, then glanced at her watch. She had another twenty minutes to go and she’d be finally finished. She sighed, grabbing the toilet brush and opening the stall—

  “Where you think you going?” Sergeant Struthers said as he leered at her.

  Heaven gasped, dropping the toilet brush to the floor. “Ohmygod!”

  “Don’t get scared now,” he sneered, the pupils in his dark-brown eyes wide dots of lust and deviousness, almost as if he was possessed. “I want this dick sucked.”

  Suddenly, the air was so thick and heavy, Heaven couldn’t breathe. She wanted this, had asked for this—a second round, but she hadn’t heard him come in, and she hadn’t expected him (although she had wanted him to) to seek her out tonight.

  She found her breath. “And I want my property back,” she pushed out, feeling more in control.
/>
  “Your shit is already up in your cell.”

  She tilted her head. “All of it?”

  His nose flared. “What the fuck I just say? Don’t make me regret it.”

  “Well then . . .” She glanced over at the bathroom door.

  “It’s already locked,” he hissed, already rubbing over his hard dick. “Get on your fuckin’ knees. I don’t have all night. The next time you open your mouth, it should be to stuff it with this dick. And I’m telling you now, bitch . . .”

  He grabbed her by the throat and forced her down to her knees. His large hand tightened around her neck. He felt like slapping her, hard, then strangling her. But he restrained himself. “Don’t ever fuck with me again. You understand?”

  Breath caught in her throat, her eyes widened and instantly filled with tears, yet she managed to quickly nod her head. Her pulse raced, but she didn’t fear he would kill her. No. He knew what he was doing.

  And when he finally let her go, his erection straining painfully tight against his zipper, she gasped heavily, feeling her cunt burst into flames as he pulled open his pants and yanked down his zipper, quickly dragging out his enormous erection over the waistband of his navy blue boxer briefs.

  Heaven took a steadying breath rubbing her throat, but it did nothing to quell her lightheadedness or the ache in cunt as her inner walls flinched.

  This motherfucker!

  He stroked himself to his full hardness, then let the wet tip of his dick rub against Heaven’s lips. His dick was at the ready, about to ravage her mouth. The feral spear about to strike. She licked at it. And then he slapped his dick across her face.

  “You a pretty bitch. But I’m warning you. Don’t fuck with me.”

  “All I want is this dick,” she murmured, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Another shiny bead of lust welled from the crown.

  He fisted her hair cruelly into his hand. “Open your fuckin’ mouth.”

  She parted her lips, and he shoved his dick all the way to the back of her throat, causing her eyes to fly open. He pulled out and then thrust his hips, forward and deep, until his balls slapped against her chin.