Rachel Ramirez was not only good looking, she was smart as a whip. She knew every answer in Hygiene class before Mrs. Carlsen even asked it. She never raised her hand, though. There wasn't anybody in our class she was even halfway interested in impressing.
Mrs. Carlsen had assigned the two of us to do a little project. But Rachel never wanted to work on it. I went over to her one evening in the day room.
"It's due the day after tomorrow," I reminded her.
"What's she going to do? Throw us in jail?"
"Come on. Why don't we just work on it?"
"I'll tell you what. You want to work on it so much, how about you do something for me first?"
"What's that?"
"How about you rip my clothes off, throw me down across this table, and fuck me like you mean it. I mean, if it's not too much trouble."
"Rachel!"
"You want to, don't you?"
"Right here in the day room? In front of everybody?"
"It's as good a place as any."
"What about the matrons?"
"They'll just have to wait their turn."
"What about your boyfriend?"
"He's done time. He knows how it is."
"Come on, Rachel."
She looked at me and yawned. "OK, Lover Boy. You wore me down. You talked me into it. Let's work on the dumb project. Let's shoot for the goddamn Nobel prize. Work now, fuck later. That's my motto."
---
The weather had warmed up quite a bit, and they finally started sending us out to pick up trash and clear brush along the county roads and open spaces. Everybody was happy to be out in the sunshine and fresh air. I even caught old Bulldog cracking a smile.
One evening, Dolores and I were lying on the top bunk. The sky outside our little window was clear and blue. We'd scooted down to put our feet up on the railing.
"You know what I saw today?" she asked. "It was on a bush. At first I thought it was a piece of tissue that had gotten caught there. But it was thicker, like maybe a napkin had gotten wet and then dried again. But it was kind of cobwebby, too, and when you looked closer you could see that it was attached to the branches, not just stuck there. It kind of looked like somebody had wrapped a napkin around their thumb to make a mummy, then tied it to the bush. But it was torn open, like the mummy had slit his way out."
"A cocoon!"
"It must have been, don't you think? And right after, I saw a butterfly! A yellow one, with a black border around its wings. It could have been the very one that hatched from that cocoon. Not hatched, but what-do-you-call-it-ed."
"That's pretty cool. I never saw a cocoon before."
"Neither did I, until this one."
---
One of the perks that Rachel had managed to secure for herself was to be in charge of the weekly inventory of the storeroom. Nobody really knew what went on in there except for Rachel and her lieutenants. But by the time that Tuesday rolled around, word had gotten out that I was to be her new assistant.
The girls weren't so sure how they felt about this. It upset the equilibrium. They didn't mind Rachel flirting with me as long as everybody knew I really belonged with Dolores. But now Rachel and I would be alone together in the storage room, beyond public scrutiny, for an hour and a half every Tuesday afternoon.
I too figured she must have something up her sleeve. But once we were in the storage room she was all business. There was a lot to be inventoried. The place was considerably more extensive than I had thought. There was all kinds of county stuff in there, not just for the Women's Facility. Rachel had me counting traffic cones, toner cartridges.
One of the things I came across was a whole stack of blankets, new ones, enough that none of us would have had to double up. It made me pretty angry. "Ah, little grasshopper," said Rachel, "who are we to second guess the beneficence of the county. Though it may flow through many channels, it all flows to the same ocean."
There was also was a big, half empty box of condoms. I couldn't understand what they were doing in the Women's Facility. Rachel explained it to me. "The maleficence of the county flows through many dicks, little grasshopper, and they're all pointed at somebody's twat. This is what the county gives you when they put you back out on the street. A twenty dollar bill and a packet of rubbers."
She kept track of everything on her clipboard, checking boxes and filling in numbers. When it was time to knock off, we hadn't quite finished, but she said it was enough for this week. "We got a lot done," she smiled. She hung the clipboard on the wall. Then she came over to me.
"Hector," she said, coyly, "remember our project about the food pyramid? Remember how hard I worked on it and how proud Mrs. Carlsen was of the two of us? Wasn't there something you were going to do for me in return? Didn't we have a little deal?" Here it comes, I thought.
She took hold of the drawstrings of my pants. "You didn't want to do it in front of everybody, so I arranged for us to have a little time by ourselves."
She played with the drawstrings. "I know you're worried about Dolores finding out. But you know that the rules here are different than on the outside. We've all got to bend a little just to get by. We've got to cut each other a little slack. My boyfriend knows how it is. I'm sure Dolores does too. Deep down she knows it isn't fair for her to keep you all to herself."
She took a step closer. "We don't have enough time to fuck now, I'm afraid. But could you at least hold me in your arms for a bit?"
Her breasts brushed against my chest. "I was hoping you'd fuck me, though," she whispered. "I didn't wear any underwear today, just in case."
She was in my arms. She looked into my eyes. Our lips came together in a tender kiss. I tightened my embrace, pressing her movie-star breasts even more closely against my chest. "Umm," she murmured.
But it was time for us to get back to our work groups.
---
All that week, whenever I closed my eyes I could still feel the soft insistence of Rachel's kiss. It had been so much more tender, so much less wet, than I would have imagined. Her whole behavior had surprised me. I'd had her pegged as a spoiled vixen, used to getting whatever she wanted. I'd thought the only reason she had anything to do with me was because there weren't any other guys around. But she hadn't really been like that at all. She'd been a lot of fun to josh around with. She'd actually been kind of sweet when we kissed. This image of her didn't quite jive with other images I had of her being mean and even cruel. But who was I to judge?
By the time that Tuesday rolled around again, I still wasn't sure how I felt about her. But I'd availed myself of every opportunity in the showers and the changing room to ogle her luscious tits and her beckoning slit. She was beautiful, classy, and smart. None of the other girls even held a candle to her. And none of the other girls had arranged to be alone with me for an hour and a half in the storage room.
And so, that afternoon, as she walked past me on her way to the traffic cones with her pencil and her clipboard, I wasn't really all that surprised to find myself holding my arm out and catching her up in my embrace. Nor was I surprised that she let herself be caught. I slipped one hand down inside her baggy work pants. No panties, just the silky smooth skin of her bottom. I slid the other hand up inside her top. No bra, just the flawless, uninterrupted skin of her back. I was embracing her naked body inside her clothes.
I lifted up her top and she raised her arms to let me take it off. How many times had I seen those luscious breasts in the showers, and now they were all mine. It took both hands to caress each one fully, to feel its heft and its three-dimensionality. Her nipples were as firm and plump as dark red cherries. I licked one and kissed the other and then went back to the first one to savor it more thoroughly.
I put both hands down her pants, running them down her taut butt cheeks then back up her hips. I slipped the pants down and she wriggled out of them, sitting back on the stack of blankets. I knelt down and pulled off her shoes and socks so that she was completely nude. Her legs were long and smooth, and she had them slightly opened with her pussy right there in front of my face. There was not a hair to be seen. The outer lips were drawn slightly apart, and the inner ones were peeking out, pink and frilly.
I ran my tongue along them. I tried to angle down to the very nadir of her slit and to stick my tongue as far up into her vagina as it would go. She gently took my head between her hands and guided me back north, up to the top.
"Try it up here, baby."
She tasted slick and pink. I kissed and licked the inner folds, trying to sort them out with my tongue, trying to get my tongue up into the very crease of every little pocket, trying to lick out every last speck of frosting.
"Right there, baby," she murmured. "Right there." She clamped my head between her thighs and gently rocked her cunt against my mouth. I painted her with kisses, tongue flicks, broad licks, slurps, playful nibbles. Her breathing became heavier, almost panting. She clamped her thighs even harder and wove her fingers through my hair. She spasmed and writhed, stretching her legs out against my shoulders with my face still tangled up in her crotch.
She sat up a bit and reached down to pull off my shirt. She tugged me up so she could slide my pants down. My cock was as hard as a telephone pole. She ran her hands over it, then held it and licked it like a banana pop. She got up and maneuvered me around so that I was sitting on the pile of blankets. She knelt down, straddling my lap, and brought her slit up alongside my cock. She flexed her crotch up and down as if the lips of her cunt were a chamois and she was polishing my hood ornament. I started flexing too, sawing my cock up and down against her like I was trying to start a little fire right there on our laps. Her pretty face was only two inches from mine. We were both looking down at the action, but then she looked across at me and gave me a sweet, playful grin.
