The jail guard gets her turn.
(Sorry a bit long on the back story. Hope you enjoy.)
I have been working for the Department of Correction in Nebraska for almost 14 years. I was married to my husband right out of college. I popped out two kids almost immediately and we began our lives together. When the kids were old enough to go to school, I didn't want to sit home all day and the only real good paying job -- at the time -- and in the area was working for the DOC. I applied and was accepted. It was tedious for a while. I had to leave home and spend 8 weeks away at the training academy and once I was in the jail, I had to work rotating shifts, afternoons and overnights for a while.
But like the trooper he is, my husband held down the fort and my wonderful kids knew mommy had a rough job and needed her sleep, so they were always angels about it. Now that I have a little more seniority, I usually work 9 months of the swing shift 10:00 A.M. until 6:00 P.M. and 3 months of day shift from 6:00 A.M. until 2:00 P.M. My name is Carly Jenkins, but everyone calls me Car.
I can remember the day they transferred Debbie Campbell into our jail. I sat looking out my office window down at the DOC bus as several women were arriving to our facility. Debbie was tall and thin, and overshadowed the other girls on the bus. She looked out of place, like she shouldn't even be in prison. Something about her made me watch further as they rounded everyone up and started walking them in. When she got up to my cell block, I greeted her and the other females and we started the intake process. Debbie had been a transfer from the county jail. She was about 4 months in of a 275-day incarceration. They were overcrowded at the county jail, so they shipped her up to our facility.
Something about her just lured me in. She was 30 years of age, 5'11 inches tall, thin with a nice set of D tits that fit her frame nicely. She had longer length brown hair, parted down the middle, a soft gentle face, that highlighted her feminine features. She was well spoken and polite and I was curious why a girl like her was here?
It's never been my business to ask an inmate what they were accused of; or were found guilty of. If they want to volunteer the information, I usually went along with the discussion, but rarely pried. Debbie didn't seem like a trouble maker, a drug addict or seller, murderer or gang member and was by far the prettiest female I had ever had on my wing. Over the course of a few weeks, I'd talk to her in passing and it almost go to the point that if I didn't see her every day, I almost felt like my day was wasted. She was always so friendly and courteous to me, the staff and the other inmates. I was just so puzzled on what she could have down to get herself locked up.
Secretly one day, I pulled her arrest file and saw that she had taken a 9-month plea deal for Aggravated Battery / Bodily Harm. I was rather shocked that the girl I knew and have spoken to almost daily, was a violent person. Seeing where her arrest took place, I filed a freedom of Information Act and requested the report. It arrived at my house a few days later and my nosey husband was wondering why a police department -- not local to our area -- was sending me mail. I explained to him that I was rather curious about an inmate and wanted to read the report. He chucked it up as, "my over suspicious mind", but there was something more about her. I had to know. I had to read it for myself. I had to see what went on.
Through my reading, I learned that Debbie was part of a lover's triangle. Whether initiated by her, or her just being drug into it, she was part of something sinister. On the report all of the names were blacked out, so I could not see if it was her and two men, or her a woman and a man, or all three were girls. But in the end, it seemed that Debbie went to the local pool hall in her town one night, grabbed a Que Stick and walloped the hell out of someone with the stick, causing that person to have multiple injuries, broken bones and needing stitches. I was almost floored! How could this tall, beautiful, almost sensual woman, get so involved in something like this? To lose her composure enough to go down to a crowded pool hall and beat the hell out of someone?
I didn't sleep much that night. Thoughts of the pool hall brawl rambled through my mind. Question of who was involved raced through the night. Was she married? Was He? Was she the other woman? Did she beat the hell out of the other woman? Or the man? Was it a lesbian lover triangle, with a cheating girlfriend? I was enamored by this and as I later came to realize, by her.
A few days later I was escorting Debbie to the Library and as we walked, I finally got the courage to ask her.
"Debbie. What did you get in trouble for?" I asked.
Of course, I somewhat already knew, but I wanted to hear who was involved and what led up to this action from her. Debbie looked at me and at first and I don't think she wanted to answer, but since we had a decent repour, she gently bowed her head and replied, "I beat the hell out of this woman."
"Wow." I replied. "That surprises me. You seem like a very quiet reserved person. If you don't mind telling me. Why, did you do it?"
"Long story," she replied. As if to just keep it to herself.
I didn't push the issue and changed the topic as we finished our walk. Debbie complimented me on how gracious I was, how sweet I was and what an attractive person I was. I was actually flattered to hear that from someone who could be a model, when I'm an ageing jail guard, whose coming up on 40.
As for me, I am of German and Italian heritage. I stand all of about 5'6 inches on a good day. I have long brown hair that I usually have up in a pony tail. My frame should hold the ideal weight of about 140 to 160 pounds, yet I run 195 on my best day. I do have a big set of double D titties, but after the kids, coupled with my age and with my weight, once the bra comes off, they rest around my belly button. I have thick thighs and short little feet with a FUPA (fat upper pussy area -- for those who don't know) and couldn't tell you the last time anyone told me I was sexy or attractive. So, I was warmed by her words, but just took it as kindness.
I didn't get to see Debbie after she had her time at the library. My shift was over and I had three people at home waiting for me.
A few days later I was walking the corridor along the cells, when Debbie called me over.
"Car." She spoke. "Come here."
When I got to her cell, she said, "If you really want to know, I'll tell you what happened."
"Sure." I replied.
"But not here. Not with people listening. When we are alone." She mumbled out.
"Okay." I replied and kept moving.
A few days later I escorted Debbie to the Library again. While walking she said, "This is embarrassing, but I'll tell you the truth."
"I was in a bad marriage with a drunken abusive man who used me as a punching bag. The only friend in the world I had was a co-worker named Lydia. Lydia helped me pack up and sneak out of my house and let me live with her while I was going through a very rough and tumble divorce.
While I was living with Lydia, I fell for her. She was more than a confidant, she was my best friend, my strength, my wisdom and my life. One night a few weeks after my divorce was over, her and I were home alone, drinking some wine, watching a movie when we kissed for the first time. The kiss got more and more heated; and more and more passionate. And shortly after, she guided me by the hand to her bedroom where we made love. It was the first time I had been with a woman and as wild and weird as it was, I was absolutely in love with it and felt that maybe, this it was where I was supposed to be.
We dated for a while, with her being the aggressor and me the paramour, the naive little girl, the one being taught. And the more we had sex, the more I felt I was changing teams and wanted to be with her more permanently. But then her attention started to become withdrawn and cold and I just knew there was something going on.
One night just after she left to go see an "old friend," which I knew was bullshit, I jumped into my car and followed her. I watched her pull into a dark back area of a parking lot and jump into a car with someone else. After a while I snuck up on the car and saw her fucking a man in the back seat. My heart sank. I felt devastated and I felt like she betrayed me more than my ex-husband had.
I was so devastated that I went home, gathered my stuff and left. Having nowhere to go and no one to turn to, I went to the bar and started drinking. I polished off way too many drinks as I felt the rage boiling inside me. I went driving around until I saw her car at the pool hall. I walked in and saw her arm in arm with the guy she was fucking earlier. And without thought, I grabbed a pool que, walked up behind them, whacked him over the head with it knocking him down and then turned my attention to her.
I beat her until the pool que snapped into pieces. I broke her nose, damaged her eye socket, cracked her head open and left her with many bumps and bruises. It took 4 people to pull me off of her and shortly after I was in handcuffs in the back of a squad car being arrested for battery and bodily harm. I took the plea deal, because I did it and it was my way out. I figured it was some time away, time to heal and a time for me to start my life over."
I was practically in tears, as was she, when she finished the story. I have never felt bad for anyone who made poor choices, but her story pulled at my heart strings. I gave Debbie a big hug before she walked through the library door and walked back towards my wing.
Later that night I laid in bed after hubby fell asleep thinking about her. I kept hearing her words in my head. How bad she was hurt, how betrayed she was. And I kept thinking to myself, she was in a lesbian relationship. That's something I had never done, nor even considered. I've never known a woman, who had slept with another woman, let alone experienced a lesbian relationship. I began wondering what it was like. How she felt? Clearly, she was tuned on by it because it was an on-going relationship. Was it because her husband was abusive? Was she always a lesbian and just needed someone to show her the way?
The more I thought about it, visualizing her eating her lover's pussy out the more aroused I became. I started wondering what her pussy looked like? What it must have looked like with her face between her lover's legs pleasuring her. Before I knew it, I was overheated and feeling sensation running through my body like I never had before. I tried to push the erotic, tingly feelings away, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was getting wet and I was becoming curious! I ended up softly and quietly rubbing my clit. My eyes were closed, deep in thought, with my tongue licking around my lips.
