The Thunder Rolls

“My name is Christina Joan Ramirez, and for the record, I’m a gold star lesbian. or at least I thought I was,” I said with a giggle and a hair flip. At five feet tall, with my Afro-Latina curls, I could often talk my way out of a bad situation. After all, I was just a kid. I know it says I’m 21, but I look like a baby doll, right? This usually worked on the guards at the prison.

However, the older, female police detective seemed unamused. “Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Jodi-Lynn Herrison?”

“She went by Joy,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “What was your name again?” I paused reaching for my water. With my hands cuffed together, this proved difficult.

“You can call me Olivia.”

“Ok,” I said with a smile, in hopes of gaining some sympathy. “Thank you.”

“Tell me more about Joy. How did you meet?”

“We’ve been best friends since I got transferred up here from Arizona.”

“Really?” she asked with the compassionate tone of a school guidance counselor. Olivia made eye contact, as she moved the paper cup closer to my side of the table. She wanted to be seen as a friend. For that I was grateful.

I nodded, unable to hide my smile. “I got off the bus, sweating through my uniform. I was so angry, frustrated, even a little sad. I’d left behind my family, my people. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the most beautiful girl sitting on the bleachers playing solitaire. At least I assumed it was solitaire. She could have been building a house for all I knew or cared.”

“Who said hello first?”

“She did,” I admitted. “Where I come from, pretty white girls are off-limits, but there she was, smiling at me. Her smile lit up my world.”

Olivia handed me a box of tissues.

“Joy and I, we were a match made in heaven.” How ironic. “Joy was anyway; she was a light, heaven-sent. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked like a porcelain doll; a perfect vision of beauty and grace. It was love at first sight.” I bit my lip, blinking back tears. She was gone, forever. And it was all my fault.

“So, you were partners?”

That made me laugh. “No, I was little more than a sidekick; the academically gifted daughter of a maid and a line cook. I got arrested for dumb shit, while Joy, she was a princess.”

“Because of her charges?”

“You have to admit, it’s kind of a bad-ass story.” Joy was born into high society, she should have gone to college, maybe even Hollywood, but instead she shot her abusive stepfather, saving her mother’s life. Unfortunately, since she had ordered the weapon on the dark web, (planning the attack for weeks) she was told to plead guilty to manslaughter and take a six-year sentence instead of risking a trial. She had already served a year before we met, but her heart was still so beautiful and unscarred.

“Ach-em,” Olivia cleared her throat.

I had apparently zoned out. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“I was asking you about your relationship with the other victim, Daniel Hartley?”

“Warden Hartley,” I replied with pursed lips. I wasn’t surprised I zoned him out. “I never had a reason to meet with him, before the rumors started.”

“The rumors?”

“The rumor was that Danny’s wife left him.”

“Danny?”

“I mean Warden Hartley,” I said, taking a sip of water. It seemed almost cruel to speak about the humiliating rumors being spread.”

“His wife was a flight attendant; traveled all over the world, any of the girls who had the privilege of working in his office said he was always so proud of her.”

“What exactly was the rumor?”

“After staying by her husband’s side through six rounds of chemo, she left him for a waiter in Reno.”

“Chemo? Warden Hartley was sick?”

I knew she had to ask leading questions, to pull out my story in my own words. But it was still a little annoying. “The rumor I heard was that he was in end-stage prostate cancer some people said it was testicular cancer. Either way, he was ready to die, because his dick didn’t work, and was selling off the remainder of his pills.”

“Selling his pills?”

“Oxy, morphine, shit like that. And selling is not the right word, more like,” I paused not wanting to speak ill of the dead. “Trading.”

“Trading,” the detective replied with a nod.

“It all started about a month ago. Wait, that can’t be right.” I counted on my fingers.

“Wow.”

“Wow? What does that mean?”

“I royally fucked up my life in less than a month.”

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

“Sure.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Joy was the one who told me about the rumor. She had heard from other girls; Danny was giving away drugs in exchange for sex, but the idea of even pretending to flirt with an old man made her want to puke.”

“But not you?” the detective asked with a smirk. “The ‘gold star lesbian’ had experience with older men?”

“I’d turned tricks before. I figured I could get in and out with a couple of pills.”

The detective nodded. “Tell me more about Warden Hartley (or Danny.)”

Danny Hartley was a fucking gorgeous man. During the day he wore tailored suits while chain-smoking through the window of his fifth-floor office, but under his professional exterior, was the body of a flesh and blood male. “The warden had an open-door policy; any prisoner with a grievance could approach, plead their case. It didn’t matter what you had to say, if Danny was interested, you would be invited in, and the door would be shut behind you.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him I had a complaint about the lunch menu; too much tuna and not enough meat.” My attempt at humor was embarrassing but it did the job.

***

I chuckled nervously as he locked the door. “So, what do we do here?”

He shrugged, pouring himself a drink. “What do you do with Joy?”

“My girlfriend?”

He swallowed the shot glass full of amber liquid, before pouring himself another. “I’ve seen you around. You’re not like the others.”

“How so? This place is full of lesbians.”

“That’s the problem.” He took a seat on his white leather sofa, something that looked out of place in the office of a prison official.

“You mean you never fucked a lesbian?” I asked, with a sexy giggle. I had to hope this would serve to lighten the mood (and not get me thrown into solitary.)

“It’s not my strong suit.” He opened a nearby drawer, showing off the pills that he had to offer.

“You watch porn, right?” I took a seat on his lap, spreading my legs. I never had a long relationship with the opposite gender, but I wasn’t a virgin to cock. I’d lost my cherry to a rich older man. I think the guy was a friend of my father. I just remember that he paid my daddy nearly a thousand dollars for the privilege of being the one to make me bleed.

The Warden placed his hand under my uniform pants, touching my exposed pussy. “Are you saying you’re a porn star?”

“I’m saying I’m a bi-sexual little slut who likes to go commando.”

“I can see that.” Danny’s hand felt large, rough, distinctly masculine. I wouldn’t have minded so much, but instead of rubbing my clit the way Joy would have, he started to finger me.

“Ouch,” the word slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. And my discomfort did not go unnoticed.

“Sorry.” Danny moved his hands away, motioning for me to leave his lap. “Just take what you want from the drawer.”

I could have easily left, that was what most of the girls did, but I felt bad. So, instead, I made the choice to guide his hand. “Here, you just gotta be gentle.” I moved his rough fingers to my clit, letting him touch me soft and slow. “Yeah, just like that.” I reclined my head back, resting on his chest as I took deep breaths. “Can you feel that?” I moved my waistband down, exposing my hips, thighs, and my hairy pussy. “See what you’re doing to me?” With my encouragement he started to move faster, rubbing my throbbing clit.

“I was never really good at this, at least not with my hands.”

“Your hands?” I asked with a giggle. “You seem plenty talented to me.” I was so wet, he could have easily finger fucked me.

Instead, he moved his hands to my thighs, coaxing my pants off completely. “I’ll give you three pills to sit on my face.”

“Make it six.” I tried not to laugh. I wasn’t leaving with any less than ten even if I had to take them by force.

“Seven, since this will be my first taste of Mexican pussy.”

I turned around, pinning him against the sofa. “Ten?” I asked as I took off my shirt, giving him a full view of my tits before forcing him onto his back. “By the way, I’m Puerto Rican.”

Danny gripped my ass I felt his tongue slip inside me. His lips were sucking my clit, while his sensual mouth devoured me whole. He was a beautiful, selfless lover who appeared to ask for nothing in return.

I rode his face, gripping his sweaty hair. My thighs were trembling. I could feel every nerve, every muscle, connecting with Danny on another level.

When I felt a distinct cold, metallic pressure on my ass, I couldn’t help but giggle. “Is that your wedding ring?” I knew he was unable to reply, with a mouth full of pussy, so I tugged on his hair. “Answer me, bitch.” I, of course, had no idea if it was actually his wedding ring, but it was a power play I wanted to make. “I want you to slip it inside me. I’ll sneak it out when my Daddy comes to visit, and we can split the profits.”

Danny slipped the silver ring off his finger, handing it to me. Instead of doing anything nasty, I put it on my own finger, twirling the oversized band. My stomach tightened, as I felt a deep, warm orgasm. I was so wet, I might have been pissing on his face, but Danny’s magical tongue didn’t stop, not until I had collapsed into his arms.

I rested on his chest, feeling the intensity of his heart. “I want to taste your cum.”

Danny chuckled. “Maybe next time, kid.” He sat up, and with his free hand, He opened a nearby bottle of scotch. He took a long swig, before pouring a small stream of liquid down my naked chest.

“Now that’s just disrespect for good scotch,” I said in a sweet voice as I turned to kiss his lips. With my hand over his groin area, I could feel he had a partial erection, but something felt odd. His cock was small but hard. It wasn’t a micropenis (I had dealt with those before) it was scar tissue. I kissed him again.

His lips were pouty, soft. “Cancer took a lot from me.” The way he smiled at me, truly melted my heart.

I wanted to make all his pain go away. I moved my hips, rubbing my juices against his lap as I reached for his belt.

“Now’s not the time,” Danny said, with a tone of authority.

I pouted briefly as I looked around for my clothes. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he said with a nod. “You have my word.”

I got dressed, maintain my friendly, supportive demeanor. I turned towards the door, fully intending to leave when I heard a crash followed by the sound of glass breaking. “Warden Hartley?”

The man had collapsed, dropping both the drinking glass and the liquor bottle. Both items shattered, casting shards of debris all over the carpeted floor. He gripped his chest, doubled over in pain.

I rushed to his side. “Let me help you.” I checked his hands for blood, he had minor cuts but the majority of discomfort seemed to come from his airway. “Do you need a doctor?” by that I meant, ‘should I scream until the on-site nurse arrives?’

“Not much a doctor could do for me,” Danny muttered as he made his way to the sofa. There was a massive cut on his palm down his wrist. “You need to get out of here before headcount.”

I knew he was right; morning headcount was coming up at five, just after shift change. Missing it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “Their numbers are always screwed up,” I said as I made a bandage out of a box of tissues and a rubber band. “The previous shift never accounts for solitary confinement and people sent to the med ward.” I removed Danny’s jacket from the hook by the door and took a seat by his side. “This should keep you warm.”

“And when the guards find you here?” Danny asked, closing his eyes.

“I plan on telling them I came to your office to make a report and you had a seizure right in front of me. Hopefully, the fact that I didn’t attempt an escape will prove I’m not a liar.”

During the night he was shivering. By the next day, he had a fever. After a few hours of sleep, I was forcibly dragged into solitary confinement. This was fine by me since I didn’t want to return to Joy without the pills.

***

The female detective excused herself to the bathroom, for a moment, leaving me with a younger male in a three-piece suit. “What happened next? According to the guard records you weren’t sent back to your cell for another five days.”

“Danny told the officers that he had a grand mal seizure, and I saved his life. He was given morphine for the pain and some stronger drugs so he could sleep. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was actually living out of his office. He requested I stay with him. Thinking back, it was actually kind of fun.”

“How so?”

“Danny, I mean the warden, he put an end to his open-door policy, and only took phone calls, giving us privacy.

“What did you two do together?”

“I massaged his feet.”

The male detective laughed. “Really?”

“Danny often had pain in his legs. I blew on my hands to warm them, and then gently massaged his feet, using pressure points to help ease his discomfort.”

“How do you know how to do that?”

“My grandma,” I said, holding back tears. She was just another person I’d lost in my life. “She taught me about reflexology. We as humans live our lives on our feet. The way we walk causes pressure, pain, but the only way to avoid that pain would be to never walk.”

***

Danny loved when I massaged his feet. Always used my thumb to place extra pressure on his left heel. “The bottom of the feet are so magical. The heel is your root, the source of your power. I leaned in and kissed the tip of his big toe. “It controls your feet, your legs, your hips, and thighs, opening your sexuality.”

That got a chuckle from Danny as he sipped his morning coffee. “I can’t recall the last time anyone touched my feet.”

I softly blew on my hands, keeping my fingers warm and moist. I worked my way up to his ankles, causing him to put down his coffee, leaning back in a state of comfort. My long-term goal was to gain his trust. Then Danny ran his fingers through my hair, petting me like a dog.

I figured if he was going to treat me like a dog I might as well act like one. With his bare feet under my control, I lick the sole of his left foot, peppering kisses along his arch, up to his toes. I looked up at him, to gauge his expression.

Danny laughed, moving his hand to his belt. His eyes were closed as he proceeded to open his pants, freeing his manhood. He was masturbating, gripping what remained of his shaft while rubbing his tip. “Do you like what you see?”

“Yeah, I do.” I knew his type; either I was going to insult his cancer-ravaged member (making him orgasm out of shame) or I could treat him like a king. I kissed his stomach, down his hips, taking control of his belt. “I’m going to put this around my neck. If you want me to stop at any time, just give it a tug.” I looped the strap around my neck like a noose handing him the end of the belt.

“Or I could just kill you,” he said in a voice that implied embarrassment.

“Usually, guys want to get their money’s worth,” I said with a smile. “After all I still have your ring.” At least I would when it passed through my digestive system. I yanked down his pants, gripping the warden’s surprisingly firm ass.

Danny released the belt, opting instead for massaging my scalp, playing with my curls.

I licked my fingers and spread his legs. Danny didn’t fight me; in fact, he seemed to like it. With my hand nice and lubed, I put two fingers inside him, immediately getting a reaction.

He clenched tight, his body craving more. I kept my nails short for just this reason; to be able to reach inside the human body and coax out a deeply intense orgasm. “Most men don’t let me do this.”

I got a clear view of his cock. He was small, with a reconstructed urethra for urination but I could practically feel the blood pumping to his nerves and muscles. The whole process, it kind of reminded me of when I finger fucked Joy. My girlfriend was a squirter. When she climaxed, her whole body went tense, her hips bucking wildly as she soaked my face.

Warden Hartley was moaning, begging. He held my head in place, forcing me to lick him clean. “You’re such a beautiful soul. I should have married a girl like you.”

‘Maybe in another life.’ I traced my free hand down his quivering thigh. “I want you on your knees.”

Danny laughed, for a moment, just long enough to make me nervous, before fully removing his pants. He got down on all fours, allowing me to do as I wished.

I was tempted to spank him, but instead, I walked two fingers down his ass crack, to his balls. It was clear to me that the naked, terminally ill man had not experienced a true orgasm in a long time.

“Oh, fuck yes. Please, Oh God please.”

I moved my hand faster, applying more pressure. I learned the art of prostate milking from my cousin, who taught a whole class using her sugar daddy as a volunteer. I always assumed it worked the same way a g-spot did for women; a magical button to be rubbed like a genie in a lamp. (If I was a good girl, I’d get my three wishes.)

Wish number one was to finally make him orgasm. With my free hand I gripped him hard, rubbing his tip until I coaxed out thick ropes of cum. Danny went limp in my arms, his warm, sensual body, spread out on the scratchy carpeted floor as he gasped for air.

“You climax like a girl,” I said with a giggle as I crawled on top of him like a lioness about to devour her prey.

Wish number two was a kiss. I could taste the sweat on his neck as I licked towards his earlobe. He turned his face, ever so gently and allowed me to kiss his cheek, then his lips. He cupped my face, looking at me with tears in his eyes.

And then there was a knock at the door.

“I should go,” I said in a whisper. I kissed Danny’s cheek one last time. his rough facial hair tickling my lips. Maybe I had daddy issues, but I liked the feeling of making him smile. I wanted to be the one to save his soul. Before all that, I had to hand over some pills to my sexy, sweet, understanding girlfriend.

“You were allowed to stay with Warden Hartley for nearly a week,” the detective pointed out. “Are you saying that for the entire time you exclusively engaged in sex?”

“No, we talked too. He told me about his ex-wife, his daughter. And we dined on only the finest Chinese take-out Oklahoma has to offer. Danny was good to me.”

“So, why did you return to your cell block?”

“I missed Joy. I wanted to show her how well I did. Danny let me keep the ring, plus two bottles of pills. He even told the guards not to search me, but if I got in trouble for any reason (such as having to fight to defend my stash) I was to be sent straight back to his office.”

I remember walking back to our cellblock with a cheery spring in my step. I even felt like skipping. “Joy! You home! I got the stuff!” Yes, I seriously shouted that. Stupid, I know.

A voice came from inside the cell. “You better have.” I assumed she wasn’t feeling well, which was why she was in her bed.

I took a seat at her feet and waited a moment, for the guard to leave us alone. Joy was naked on the bottom bunk of our bed with our favorite double-sided dildo that we made from a plastic glove and two bars of soap, connected with tape and hair ties. I placed a pill to her lips, sneaking it in with a kiss.

Joy giggled. “Did you fuck him?”

That was the whole point of me going there.

“No, the point was to get the pills, not for you to play sexy hospice nurse.”

“You have to admit I did well. I took off my sweaty uniform, stripping down to my bra and panties.