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A Correctional Officer Enjoys A Conjugal Visit
Just outside the little town in which I grew up as a child stood a classic old prison. It had survived many changes in the state administrations and continued to serve as a correctional facility despite its dated construction. Convicted criminals throughout the state were hopeful of being sent to Crossville House due to its reputation as having a level of leniency unlike the other, more secure, institutions in the state. The "House", as it was called, held 100 inmates at its optimum and had a staff approaching forty, both male and female. I was a correctional officer at the House.
The grounds of the House consisted of one large brick building that contained both administrative offices and one hundred cells split evenly between two wings. The inmates had a wide range of outdoor facilities to stretch their legs, basketball courts, a softball diamond, a walking trail that circled the facility just inside its tall brick walls. Generally, the inmates had access to the grounds with restricted access to the offices and staff facilities such as a locker room and small workout room.
Included at the facility were six bungalows that had once served as residences for correctional officers when the House was more of a prison and the inmates more serious offenders. Now, the facility housed more white collar and non-violent criminals. The bungalows were used for conjugal visits. The provision of conjugal visits was a major attraction to those serving executed sentences.
Each bungalow had three rooms: a kitchen, a living room, and a bedroom. Originally, the houses had four rooms with an additional bedroom for children visiting. Over time, visits by children were found to be so infrequent that the interiors were renovated to the current configuration. Each room was well-appointed and the bedroom had a king-size bed. The kitchen was well supplied. Due to the popularity of the bungalows, food and other as sundry items were always freshly stocked.
Rarely were any of the bungalows empty. The general nature of the House's population kept nearly all of the inmates within the rules and eligible for conjugal visits. Some inmates used the opportunity regularly. Others' visits were more infrequent. Each visit was limited to two days and inmates were clamoring to schedule the next visit. As each visit ended, smiles were abundant among inmates and visitors alike.
The sexual activity in the bungalows and the natural voyeuristic tendencies of the staff made "the bungalow shift" a favorite assignment among correctional officers. We respected the privacy of the visits, but could not resist the allure of the more noisy couplings and tended to linger outside the windows of those enjoying a rare fuck.
As would be the case, those coming off the bungalow shift would offer the best in lunchroom and locker room conversation as they recounted the quantity and intensity of the sexual interaction they overheard and sometimes witnessed. Exhibitionism caused some inmates and their guests to open the blinds and the windows. More often than not, a guard would be able to assess the physical endowment of both partners as well as the sexual proficiency with which they pleasured each other. Occasionally a correctional officer might be inspired to self-pleasure during or after the shift although none would readily admit such a thing.
With only a hundred incarcerated, we staff got to know each of the inmates rather well including their proclivities during their time in the bungalows. It was difficult to repress a smile when interacting with an inmate who had recently pounded a visitor to screams of joy time and again over a two day fuck-fest. Others, who were more discreet in his encounters, might offer the same smile knowing that you know what he did, again and again. Working at the House was entertaining to say the least.
One inmate, Hollis Johnson, rarely entertained any visitors. He was a pleasant man about six feet three inches and a svelte two hundred pounds. He used the facilities available to him and was proud of his physique. It was sad for me to see such a handsome and personable man to be void of any family or outside contacts. There was one woman that Hollis identified as his "wife" that came about once every six months. On those occasions, I was never on the shift so I had no idea of the interaction with his visitor. The others did not speak of any observations.
It was spring of 2021. The House had shut down visitations due to the pandemic for over a year. The population became cranky and a few incidents erupted. Frankly, I was a bit cranky myself along with my co-workers. When the state health department allowed institutions to resume visitation, the sigh of relief could be heard from all corners of the world of corrections. Our warden immediately instructed us to begin scheduling visits and Hollis was first in line.
It so happened that I was scheduled for the bungalow shift during Hollis' visit. I did not recognize the lady who came that day. She was fashion model tall and slender with a round ass and medium breasts. "Stunning" is the word I would use and from the gawking officers and inmates, I believe they agreed. After following the usual protocol for conjugal visits, Hollis and his visitor were accommodated in the first of the six bungalows. All of the structures were in use and the facility seemed to rock with joyous sex. I made my rounds as quickly as I could so I could spend more time outside the windows of the first bungalow.
My voyeurism heightened as I saw the beautiful visitor slip out of the lovely sun dress she wore. Although my attraction to and experience with other women was limited to an evening of drunken curiosity as a college student, my bisexual urges reignited at the sight of this beauty. I moved closer to the window to absorb the awe of this creature. Long legs topped with a perfect ass, pink nipples were extended to nearly a half inch and protruded from her upturned tits. As juices sparkled from between her creamy legs, I felt my panties moisten. I noted the tan lines around her hips and breasts suggesting a skimpy bikini and a level of modesty.
My heterosexuality snapped me to reality as Hollis unbuttoned his state-issued jumpsuit allowing it to fall to the floor exposing his rock hard body and a cock that is best described as a tree trunk capped by the Liberty Bell. Hollis' was clearly inspired, as was I, by the sight of his lovely visitor as his cock twitched and grew. The sparse landscaping around the bungalow provided little cover as I unbuttoned my shirt to grasp a nipple while sliding my other hand into my panties drenched by secreting love juices. As the vignette inside the bungalow continued to provide undeniable appeal to my urges, I lost any inhibitions and moved closer to the open window.
Hollis proved to be more the exhibitionist than I expected as he crawled between the visitor's legs and applied his wet tongue to her pussy. The gasp that escaped her lips left no doubt as to the effect of the tongue lashing her clit and pussy was getting. By the movement of his head, I could see that Hollis was lapping at her cunt like a painter seeking to cover a dark wall with white paint. By her reaction, he was successfully covering all the walls and the nooks and crannies of her delectable pussy. Beads of perspiration rolled across both of their foreheads. As he raised his head slightly and directed his tongue to her tiny nub, his technique threw her into a volcanic and noisy orgasm.
I stepped away from the window and gathered myself thinking it was the climax heard round the grounds. To be more discreet I reluctantly stepped back into my routine hoping to circle back to the first bungalow for more of the sex show I had been enjoying. My cunt leaked along the way.
I returned to hear rhythmic grunts and groans, with the occasional, "Oh, my fucking God" coming from the visitor's lips. My view inside the cabin revealed Hollis' long member pistoning in and out of her drenched pussy as she draped her long legs over his massive shoulders. I thought I heard, but may only have imagined, the slapping of his balls against her bare ass. The visual was literally more than I could stand, as my own orgasm consumed me mere seconds, it seemed, after I reached into my uniformed crotch to strum my clit. My vocal delight did not escape the ears of my voyeuristic subjects as they slowed their performance to smile at my quivering body. I managed to smile back as thy resumed fucking with Hollis jerking her onto all fours and began a doggy-style assault on her pussy as her exquisite tits swayed from his conquest.
As I swirled to see if there were other onlookers, I brought my fingers to my mouth for a taste of my own tangy nectar and attempted to walk my route as if nothing had happened although knowing full well that an impression had been made by the passionate spectacle I had enjoyed. I fought my wobbly legs as my shift ended wondering if the show might continue for my successor.
