by Salome Wilde
Johanna stepped away from the wall, “I do,” she said, sounding surprised, looking unguardedly happy and beautiful. Jan’s skin tingled with affection and desire.
Johanna stopped half a step away. “I’ll do whatever it takes to win back your trust, Jan. We can take this as slowly as you want.”
Jan closed the gap between them and pulled Johanna in for a kiss. Johanna held Jan tightly as their lips pressed together. The slide of Johanna’s tongue between her lips sparked memories of Johanna filling her up everywhere. They took a few steps together to Johanna’s home office. With Johanna seated on the edge of her sturdy desk, they were the same height. Jan pulled Johanna’s shirt free from her skirt. Johanna smiled between kisses and said, “Or not so slowly.”
“Should we stop?” Jan asked, wary of any assumptions. She saw again the remembered beauty of Johanna’s breasts as she slowly removed her own shirt.
“I don’t want to stop,” replied Johanna in a low tone that sent a fresh flow of shivers over Jan’s flesh. Lace-covered nipples poked her palms as Johanna moaned into her mouth. Jan felt divinely wet. Johanna loosened Jan’s belt and shoved Jan’s pants down her thighs. They kept kissing and slowly undressing each other until only their underwear remained. Johanna wrapped her legs around Jan’s waist as she pressed her lace-clad mound against Johanna’s; the pulsing heat and tension of Jan’s desire suddenly spiked. Their hips rocked and pressed together as their tongues continued to dance. Johanna’s hands on her, the feel of her strong thighs locked around Jan’s hips, the taste of her lips and the aroma of their mutual desires encouraged Jan to give in to her fantasies. But this was no fantasy. Everything that had happened between them was real. This, now, was real.
“Johanna, fuck. I want you so much!” Jan managed between kisses. When Johanna pulled back, Jan held her intense gaze, loving the tiny flecks of green in Johanna’s eyes, concerned but no longer afraid.
“All this time, Jan—I’ve always—” Jan fought off happy tears as Johanna took hold of her right hand and guided it between her legs so Jan could feel how wet she was “—wanted you this much.” Jan’s whole body indulged in the delight of slowly dipping her finger into Johanna, while Johanna’s tongue claimed her mouth. When they gasped apart, Johanna’s nipples demanded her attention. Still guiding Jan’s hand, Johanna urged her to slide a second finger inside. Johanna then reached up to stroke Jan’s back and to slip her fingers down to caress her ass. Jan moaned as she sucked a hard nipple and felt Johanna’s delicious pull on her fingers. She closed her eyes to revel in the mutual filling of mouth and pussy. Wanting more of Johanna’s breasts she gently pulled at Johanna’s other nipple with her free hand. Johanna murmured, “Yes,” and Jan opened her eyes to see her lover’s lips part. “Kiss me,” Johanna whispered. Jan willingly complied.
She fought to keep her balance as Johanna’s strong legs jerked her closer until Jan’s arm was trapped between them. With a smile at her predicament, she noticed that not a trace of pain remained in her shoulder. She felt completely healed. As Johanna’s breath quickened, Jan whispered into her ear, “You’re so wet for me, love! So amazing.”
Johanna gripped the desk behind her and then arched hard, her legs squeezing to the rhythm of her hips pumping against Jan’s hand, her ass nearly suspended in the air. Johanna’s head fell back as she rode on and on. As Jan deeply breathed in her love’s sweet scent, Johanna’s tremors started. They worked together to keep Johanna at her peak until they were both slick with sex and sweat. Only when her shaking finally subsided did Johanna release her grip on Jan’s shoulder and relax, her ankles still crossed behind Jan’s back. Jan leaned over to kiss her. “Johanna,” she said between kisses, “Do you want to fuck me?”
Johanna growled deep in her throat and let her legs untwine, sliding down Jan’s heated skin until her feet were firmly planted on the floor. Jan dropped her panties. With Johanna’s gorgeous rump carrying most of their weight, she cupped Jan’s bottom and lifted her. Jan wrapped herself around her love as Johanna carried her down the short hall to her bedroom. Johanna’s strong hands on her ass made Jan’s nipples stiffen and her core clench. Jan felt her shudder in response to the moaning kiss she placed on Johanna’s neck. Johanna carefully laid her on the bed and stretched out beside her. She leaned over to kiss Jan while caressing her breasts. To intensify the sensations she was being treated to, Jan arched her back. Johanna’s lips left hers as she moved down the bed. Johanna crouched between Jan’s legs, their eyes locked, Johanna entered her with one finger. Jan rocked her hips forward and Johanna let out a short moan in response.
“More,” Jan said, drawing out the vowel as she opened herself further. Johanna repositioned herself while carefully sliding her two middle fingers into Jan’s wet pussy. Jan closed her eyes to focus on her building euphoria. She cried out in surprise when Johanna’s lips slid over her drenched clit. The fullness of Johanna inside her and the delightful ministrations of her mouth set Jan off. Jan thrust her hips to strengthen the myriad sensations Johanna roused within her. She moaned as Johanna’s tongue repeatedly dove between her lips and pulled at her clit. Every muscle in her body was connected to Johanna’s hands and mouth. Pleasure pulsed to every corner of her flesh.
“Oh fuck, yes!” Johanna called out as Jan’s orgasm overtook her, arcing Jan’s back again and again. Her pleas for more grew incoherent as Johanna kept her riding a plateau of pure physical bliss. Pleasure flowed in increasing waves until Jan lost all control and her muscles pulled and held Johanna inside her for a final spike of release. Johanna held still as Jan’s contractions slowly subsided, then tenderly kissed her thigh and murmured her name.
As Jan lay panting with exertion and suffused with contentment, Johanna crawled up to lie down beside her. Jan wrapped her arms around Johanna, holding her close. She marveled that her first day back at work, which had begun with such anxiety and confusion, had ended so ripe with joy and promise. Johanna tipped her chin for another kiss and their eyes met in the waning evening light, blurry with passion and bright with love.
Sweetie
by Katya Harris
“C’mere, Sweetie.”
That’s what she calls me. Sweetie.
I go to her obediently, a small smile tilting my lips and my hips sashaying from side to side like I’m wearing a cute little dress and heels instead of my ugly prison uniform and even uglier shoes. She’s lying on her bunk, one arm behind her head and the other resting over her stomach. Her top has ridden up, exposing a slice of her caramel-colored belly. I lick my lips, coming to a stop at the side of the cot.
“Yes, Mama.” That’s what I call her. Not Lexi or Mack or even Herrera, what the other prisoners and even the guards call her. No, to me she is always Mama.
Moving the arm on her stomach, she pats the bit of bed beside her hip. “Sit down.”
I sit, my hands folded together in my lap. The lumpy, too-thin mattress is uncomfortable beneath my ass, so I concentrate on the warmth of where her hip touches my thigh.
A smile flirts at the corner of her full lips as she looks at me. Her eyes are dark and fringed with sooty black lashes. As always, I can’t look away from them, feeling as though I’m falling into those inky pools.
Lifting her hand, she strokes the backs of her fingers along my jaw. My eyelids flutter at the gentle caress, the familiar sensation of pleasure and anticipation at what might come next heating my pussy to feverish warmth.
“How ya doin’, my Sweetie girl?” she croons. “Happy?”
I nod. “Yes, Mama.” At least as happy as I can be in this place.
Keeping her eyes on mine, she curls her body upward to sit beside me. The movement brings her face just an inch or so from mine. Her warm breath, sweet with peppermint gum that can’t quite cover the thick bitterness of cigarette smoke, flows over me. “I’ve made you happy, haven’t I, Sweetie?”
I lean into her touch, rubbing my cheek against her hand. “You know you have. You saved me.” She had. Twice. I can sti
ll remember the relief when she shouldered Janice away from me the first time, snarling at her to leave me alone before she walked away with a wink and a smirk for me. The second time, if she had asked me to kiss her feet after she dragged that bitch off of me, I would have. Instead, she said that I was hers and, after nearly beating Janice to death, no one had doubted it and no one had dared to touch me again. When she came back from solitary I licked her pussy in gratitude and she named me “Sweetie.”
“I did,” she agrees, “and you love me for it.”
“I love you for lots of things.”
She chuckles, the cynical sound as sharp as the knife she’d once used to stab her husband. “Course you do, Sweetie.”
It’s like she’s cut me. “I do, Mama. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, considering me. “Would you really, Sweetie?” she asks softly. “Anything?”
Leaning forward, I brush my lips against hers. My tongue peeks out to lick at the plumper bottom one, tasting sweet and smoke. I sigh, surrendering, just like every other time Mama asked something of me. “Anything you want. I’m yours.”
She kisses me in reply, her tongue pushing its way past my lips to dominate my mouth. I whimper, my hands clutching fistfuls of the scratchy blanket beneath us. I want to grab her instead, fill my hands with her firm tits, kiss my way down her body, but I won’t, not until she tells me to. I’m a good girl. Her girl.
“Mine,” she whispers against my lips and, like every other time she says it, my heart thrills to the claim.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, she looks at me, her lips kiss-wet and red like her flushed cheeks. I can smell her arousal, the earthy perfume of it mingling with my own.
“Take your clothes off.”
I blink. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why, to remind her that it’s daytime and the cell doors are open, allowing anyone to just walk in. Her dark eyes skewer me, and I swallow my protests. Standing up, I toe off my shoes and strip off my uniform, letting it fall to the floor around my feet. I’m not wearing anything underneath, the way she likes it. The cold prison air prickles my skin. I shiver. Fear is a metallic taste in my mouth. My eyes can’t help darting toward the door. I can hear the regular sounds of the block, the murmur of voices, laughter and sharp crow-calls.
Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she curves a hand over my hip. Her thumb caresses a lazy line along that sensitive crease where my thigh and body meet, just below my hip. “Shh,” she croons. “Don’t worry, Sweetie. No one’s going to disturb us.”
I relax beneath her hand. Everyone in the block does what she tells them to do. She’s queen here, and not just because of her violent reputation. She’s gangland royalty, both her brothers and her father high up in the chain. The only reason she was thrown in solitary after beating Janice was because she had done in it the middle of the canteen.
“Open your legs. Wide as you can.”
My breath hitches as I obey. I bite my bottom lip as her hand drifts to that hungry spot between my thighs. The backs of her fingers brush the silky hair covering my pussy before dipping down between the sensitive folds, gathering up some of the cream spilling from my cunt. A smile curves her lips as she watches herself smear that slick liquid all over my pussy until the plump flesh glistens and small droplets of moisture cling to the little curls. Satisfied, she sucks her fingers clean. My clit pulses, a second heartbeat, the heat of my lust chasing the chill in my body away. My breaths are coming so quick, I worry that I’m going to faint.
“Such a pretty girl.”
I flush at her praise.
Keeping her dark gaze locked on mine, she scoots backward to sit at the top of the cot, her long legs bent and spread as wide as the narrow bed will allow. Patting the space between her thighs, she crooks a finger from her other hand. “Up here.”
I crawl onto the bed. She pushes and pulls at my body with gentle but firm determination, arranging me just as she wants.
“My little Sweetie doll.”
Lying on my back between her legs, my upper body resting on her breasts and my widespread legs hooked over hers, I blush at the picture I must make. The first thing anyone walking through the door will see is my sex, wet and exposed. The faraway noises seem louder, closer. Fear squeezes a whimper from my throat and more cream from my cunt.
Her hands close over my breasts. I gasp, my spine bowing and pressing my soft flesh harder into her palms. Cruel fingers pinch at my nipples in punishment, darts of pain mingling with the glittering streaks of pleasure coursing down my body to my clit. I squirm, mewing like a cat in heat, and she chuckles in my ear.
“Do you want me to touch your pussy, Sweetie?”
“Please,” I whimper, tilting up my hips like I’m begging for a treat.
Her tongue licks a velvety line up the curve of my ear. “All right. As you’ve been such a good girl.”
Her hand drifts idly down, coasting over the trembling plane of my stomach. I watch its too-slow progress, my heart trying to crawl its way out of my throat. Her fingers touch the mound of my pussy, and I’m so on edge I almost come.
She tuts, a short sharp sound that makes me flinch. “Naughty Sweetie. Not yet.” Back and forth, her fingertips lazily brush over me. “Not until our guest arrives.”
I freeze, wondering what she means, when her hand moves down to cup my sex. I melt into her, every question and objection slipping out of me on the tide of arousal wetting her palm.
“That’s it.” Using her index and third fingers, she opens up my pussy lips. Her middle finger strums lightly over the very tip of my clit. I moan, my legs relaxing and falling open even wider, my body trembling with pleasure and need.
“Holy fucking hell, Mack. What the fuck are you doing?”
I didn’t even realize my eyes were shut until they flip open to stare at the furious figure in the doorway.
“Hello, Officer Singh,” Mama purrs. “We was waiting for you.”
The uniformed woman in the doorway storms into the cell, but not before casting a worried look over her shoulder.
“No worries, officer,” Mama reassures her, just like she did me. “We won’t be bothered. Not even by the other guards.” Her finger, which hasn’t let up on my clit, strokes harder, making me whimper and draws Singh’s eyes down my body. “Me and Sweetie were just keeping ourselves busy till you got here.”
Red spots of color scorch Singh’s dusky cheeks. Her pale brown eyes glitter. “Get dressed,” she snaps at me, but she can’t take her eyes from my cunt and I feel a thrill. She wants me.
I don’t move except to writhe within the clasp of Mama’s arms. Officer Singh isn’t the boss of me.
“Officer,” Mama chides gently. “Don’t spoil Sweetie’s fun; she hasn’t come yet.”
“I don’t give a shit!” But the hard line of her jaw, the crack of her teeth as she snaps her mouth shut, tells me she does. Her fists clench and unclench at her sides. I wonder if she’s fighting not to touch me.
Mama moves her hand. I suck in a sharp breath as two of her fingers spear into my pussy.
“But Sweetie here is so wet. So hot. She might explode if she don’t come soon. Ain’t that right, Sweetie?”
Desperate lust corkscrews deep in my belly. My hips rise and fall, helping Mama to finger-fuck me. “Yes,” I moan. “Please. I need it, Mama, I need it so bad.”
“Don’t ask me. Ask the nice officer.”
I whimper. Just a little harder, a little faster and I’d go off like a rocket. Shame is a thing I don’t even know anymore, discarded like all my other possessions at the prison gate. I stare up at Singh’s towering figure with pleading eyes. “Please, officer,” I beg. “Please let me come.”
A visible jolt runs through the prison guard’s body. Her fists finally decide to stay clenched tight, the skin of her knuckles white instead of tawny-gold. “Why the fuck are you doing this?” she growls at Mama, though her eyes never leave me.
Mama’s fingers ease from
my cunt, her hand gently cupping me instead. I swallow my noise of protest.
“Because I need you,” Mama says. “I need things brought in and the authorities are sniffing around my other contacts. You’re so squeaky clean they’d never think to suspect you. But you ain’t so clean, are you? I’ve seen the way you look at my girl here. Your eyes glued to her tits and ass when you think no one’s looking. Well, I was looking. I saw. I know just how much you want her.”
Singh glares at her, but she doesn’t deny it. “So, what?” she spits out. “I do what you want and you let me fuck your girl?”
“Pretty much.” Playing with my nipples, she makes me move against her in rippling waves. “She is so sweetly fuckable, ain’t she? Didya know she used to be a librarian before she ended up in here? Yeah, an educated woman with a degree and everything.” She chuckles. “I never knew how dirty librarians could be.”
A little dart of pain pierces my chest. “Mama.”
She touches my clit in apology, her other hand caressing my nipples until the pain of my former life with all its bright promise sinks back beneath the pleasure washing over me. One stupid mistake and my career, my future, was gone, but I have this. I have Mama. I relax back against her with a contented little sigh.
“I know,” Singh says in a husky murmur. “But in here, she’s just your whore.”
“She is. And she loves it, dontcha Sweetie?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Maybe you’d like a little taste before you decide, officer.” Mama’s voice drips temptation. “Go on. Touch her. She loves to be touched.”
I don’t think she’s going to do it. Singh is decent, for a guard, strict but fair with it, a real straight arrow.
She moves, and surprise mixed with anticipation stiffens my body. I can almost feel the satisfaction humming from Mama as Singh drags her fingers through the wetness of my cunt, the calluses on the pads of her fingers abrading my tender flesh. I shudder at the delicious friction, my lips parting to release a moan. Singh echoes me with a soft sound. Lifting her hand, she tastes my juice glistening on her fingers. Her eyelids flutter, falling to half-mast.