Long days and even longer nights. Stupid mistakes landed me here. I thought it was worth it, but it wasn't. I roll over on the cardboard they call a mattress and stared at the bottom of a metal empty bunk above me.
How did I get here? Funny you should ask. A little too much to drink and the wrong crowd equals a bad combination. I was with a group of friends that held up a gas station. I really don't remember anything but the video has me right there. I was convicted and now I only have to serve a year. No one was hurt, and I didn't have a weapon, and even in the video you can see how unsteady I am on my feet.
I pull the tiny sheet over my head and wish for sleep. I have been here for four months now and I have too much time left to even count. I have heard the other women, tending to each other and themselves at night. But I can't. I can wait. I am only here for a short time.
Yet even as I try and convince myself that, I can feel the burning desire. The soft moans echoing down the empty halls, the muffled cries of pleasure. The guards don't really bother them. As long as it's at night and consensual, the guards pretend to never hear it. My hand traces idlely over my soft belly, wishing that I had someone to touch me that way. Then with a groan I roll over and put the pillow over my head.
The days drag on, the nights even longer. I don't know how much longer I can wait. Every night it gets harder not to give into to join the ranks of those that seek the release. The momentary freedom, of not being confined within these walls, of being lost so completely in yourself that things aren't that bad.
I see these other women, I see how much easier it is for them to cope. I can only feel the stress building in me. My chest, my very core is so tight, that I am afraid if I take a deep breath I am going to snap.
I have been pretty lucky. Most of my cellmates only lingered for a few days before I would have a day or two alone and then more fresh meat. It was like they picked the short timers just for me. To see how far they could push me before I cracked. The guards may have feigned clueless on our activities, but they took time to torture me. Or at least it felt like it.
The few male guards seem to linger longer by my cell, taking a few moments to talk to me, their voices a constant reminder of what I miss. Sometimes wishing they would just come through the bars and have me. They must have known my desperation, my longing. Even my dreams were out to get me. I hit my rack out of frustration. Sex is taking over. If I even see a male, I can feel my body respond, its slick wetness begging to be entered...
"Grrrrr..." 6 long months down, I don't know if I can make the next six. This is just getting to be too much. I have noticed that I have started flirting with the male guards, even started noticing a few of the female inmates. But, I can't give in. I made it this far, I can make it.... I can make it.
Halfway through month six is when I finally gave in. Laying back in the small rack, the top one empty, I let my hands slowly explore my belly and chest. My nipples aching for touch as my gentle fingers pinch them lightly sending a small moan. Biting my lip my hands explore, teasing me. My chest full in my hands, I imagine a guy behind me, his hardness pressed against my lower back as his hands tantalize my skin. Slowly my right hand traces the trail to my sweet spot, the hot core that has been raging, begging, and slowly taking over every waking thought.
I whimper out as my right hand barely brushing my very tender button, electricity surging through me, desire becoming a haze. I never hear the footsteps approaching my cell; never feel the eyes watching me. Slowly I insert a single finger into my slickness. I long for more but happy for this small measure. Moaning softly as the finger slips in and out slowly, though my need screaming for faster and deeper. Pushing myself slowly to a peak I stop suddenly, a key clicked in my cell door and I freeze. My breath ragged as I try to feign sleep, the blanket barely covering my nude figure beneath.
"Lets go." His voice soft and husky with desire. The cuffs were already in is hands and all I wanted to do was scream. I pulled my hand from between my legs and began to reach to the bottom of the covers for my jumper.
"Don't move." As he draws his weapon. My heart sinks. Would figure. The one time I finally give in and indulge myself a guard catches me, not any guard a fucking male guard. And now he wants to shoot me, and not in that happy fun way.
I lay very still as he approaches me. I close my eyes and hold my breath. Quickly he tugs the sheet from my form revealing that I am naked. With an exasperated sigh I remain unmoving, honestly not wanting to be shot. His gun still pointing at me, he licks his lips, desire burning in him as fiercely as it had haunted me.
Letting out my breath slowly, I open my eyes. I feel so ashamed that not only did he catch the ONE time I decided to play, but also now I am naked before him with a gun drawn on me. The night air is cool on my skin as I try to keep myself from shivering.
"Stand up slowly and turn around placing your hands behind your head."
I get up and reach for my jumper.
"Stop! Don't make me shoot you. I said, stand up slowly and turn around placing your hands behind your head. Do you understand me?"
