Kerri
Forty-five.
That's how many days it's been since Lucien first took me and made me his in the Alcove. We've gotten to the point where we see each other pretty much every day now. To the point where I expect some reason to find myself in the Alcove waiting when the inmates are released for their few hours of free roam. Because it's different days, I've started taking my lunch and breaks at odd times. Guards and other people I work with will look at me as I go for "lunch" at 10 am in the morning. They don't understand that it's because I spent the entire morning dreaming about how Lucien was going to take me. That my panties were literally sopping wet by the time I made it to the Alcove thinking about Lucien's hard cock.
Why is he affecting me so much? Why am I having trouble concentrating on the simplest of tasks without my mind wandering to think of the next time I’m going to see him? Why can’t I get the thought of Lucien taking me, turning me around, bending me over, ripping off my panties and pushing himself into me out of my head?
It’s like my mind is in a fog when I’m not with him. Like I’m in a coma. And then we do actually meet. And I forget everything. The world fades away. The dark surroundings that we’re in become nothing more than a backdrop. We form our own encapsulated universe.
And then we have sex. It’s like nothing I have ever felt or will ever feel ever again. His cock literally stretches me in every direction when he is inside of me. To the point where I’ve blacked out from coming too hard.
And then afterwards, I sit in a sex coma. Somehow I manage to put my clothes on and get to work. Somehow I get to work, walking bowlegged and unsteady. I sit there, listening to a supervisor talking about changes to medication of prisoners who come in with life threatening wounds from altercations. Or listening to our narcotics auditor going over proper handling of controlled substances. But while I’m there physically, all I can feel is Lucien's cum dripping down out of my pussy, literally soaking my panties. All I can wish for is for it to be the next day, so I can head to the Alcove.
Ten.
That’s how many days ago Lucien told me that he loves me. Literally, he looked me in the eyes, and held my hand and whispered, “I love you, Kerri.” Tears came to my eyes and I wrapped my arms around him. We were naked. He had just fucked the living daylights out of me, coming inside me like a fire hydrant blasting on a hot summer day.
I looked into his eyes, returning his gaze. “I love you too, Lucien Stone,” I said. “I’ve loved you for some time now and it took you long enough to say it.”
Lucien chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me first,” he said with an amused gaze in his eye. “That’s what most women do anyways.”
But I wasn’t 'most women.' At least not to him. I mean, I’ve been through my share of men. I’m not a virginal princess. I’ve been dirty. But that was always scratching an itch. With Lucien it feels more real. Like I was meant to do the nastiest, most indulgent, pleasurable things with him. And there was nothing wrong with it because right after having done unspeakable things, I can cuddle up with him and imagine a life outside of the concrete walls that surround us.
Six.
That’s how many times my friends have tried to set me up with different men from various dating websites in the last forty-five days.
“You’re not getting any younger and if you keep to yourself, you’re going to end up all alone,” a few of them say from time to time.
“I want some grandchildren,” my mother tells me over the phone one day. “Do you think that’s going to happen anytime soon?”
“Besides, if he’s serving a life sentence, how is he ever going to be able to be there for you?” my friend asks over coffee one weekend. “I mean, sure you see him every day, but an hour a day isn’t a relationship, Kerri. It’s more like sex buddies.”
Deep in my heart, I know that what they say is absolutely true. I am in love with a man who has been placed in jail by society for breaking with its social contract. With a man who will never be getting out from that jail. Who is caged up like a beast, his freedoms denied.
What is it exactly that I see in this relationship? Am I going to move in with him? I can’t. Unless it’s in his cell. Are we going to have a wedding? It would have to be in the jail. And then what about my life? Am I really that selfless to be able to give up waking up next to a man, to give up sharing how my day went with a man, and to constantly wonder if he’s safe? Am I content being along for the rest of my life for the sake of love?
One.
That’s how many times I do go out with guys after my friends beg and plead me to keep an open mind.
I hated that time.
The first and only time it’s with an accountant named Barry. He meets me at a restaurant and proceeds to spend the whole evening telling me about how much money he makes in his recent business. It would be great to celebrate in his success except the man spends so much time talking about himself that I doubt he ever stopped to wonder anything about me. The most he knew about me was my name. I politely declined a second date as we exited the restaurant and I made sure we walked in opposite directions.
That night, as Barry left, I realized the mistake I made and I showed up to work at the jail. The people looked at me strange, but I told them how I had some unfinished paperwork and inmate evaluations to conclude and they just shrugged it off.
It was evening and the prisoners were given some free time after dinner. I put on my scrubs after changing out of my dress to avoid any unwanted attention and waited until I saw Lucien walking back from the canteen. He immediately saw me, and his eyes flashed. I gave him a smile and our code was exchanged.
Ten minutes later, he came to the Alcove where I was waiting for him.
“Surprised to see me?” I asked, turning toward him, taking off my scrubs in front of him so I could pose for him in my sexy lingerie.
“I don’t fucking care why you’re here,” he said, his eyes hungrily devouring me. “I just want to fuck you so bad right now.”
His cock was as thick as a lead pipe and I knew he wasn’t lying. I don’t know if I tore his clothes off or he took them off in a heartbeat, but the next thing I knew he was biting my neck, priming my body. And all of a sudden, he was inside of me. I closed my eyes and felt his entire length going into me as my pussy walls stretched out to accommodate his girth inside my canal. I shuddered in pleasure as he bit my skin between my neck and my shoulder blade as he thrust into and out of me. My skin was on fire and I began to moan uncontrollably as I shucked myself on him, grunting with every thrust onto him. I didn’t care what I sounded like. Or even what I looked like. I needed to come. And I needed it to be on him.
And I did. I came like nothing else that evening. My vision exploded in stars before going dark. My skin arced with electric currents of pure ecstasy as I threw my head back and moaned one of the lewdest sounds I’ve ever made in my life. I lost control of my limbs as they seized up and when I finally came out of my sex coma and into a haze of euphoria, I saw Lucien holding me, looking at me. And I realized that all my doubts were nothing compared to this moment. With this man.
That night, I went home in a daze, my heart aflutter with happiness. I didn't care if Lucien was in jail. I didn't care if I only got to see him for an hour or so a day. Somehow, we would figure it out. We were young. We would let our love fuel our actions. Not our brains.
In a cocoon of happiness, I fell asleep.
And woke up the next morning feeling ill. I rushed to the bathroom, where I barely had time to get to the toiled and bend over before I began heaving and vomiting.
I felt terrible. And I began to cough and retch as my body tried to empty out the contents of my stomach.
Thinking it was food poisoning, I went to bed. Where I promptly fell asleep until noon, and then I woke up and realized I had been passed out for half the day. What had happened to me? In a way it was good that it was my day off. Lucien wouldn't worry if I missed our normal liaison.
22.95
That’s how many dollars I spent on the pregnancy kit a few hours later when I finally felt good enough to get out of bed. I bought it from the local drugstore when I realized that I was at least two weeks late on my period.
Zero.
That’s how many hours I slept that night as I finally went to bed, my mind still consumed with thoughts about what I was going to do after finding out earlier in the day that I was pregnant.