Oh Seven Twenty-Seven

Oh seven twenty-seven. I pushed the heavy steel door open and stepped outside for a smoke, greeted by a brisk January wind that was in stark contrast to the hot and stuffy atmosphere inside the prison. I felt my body shiver underneath my thick winter jacket as I fumbled for my cigarettes and lit one up. I took a long draw, relishing the heady feeling as a mix of nicotine and frosty air filled my lungs. I leaned against the wall and stared at the door I had just come through. It wasn't a particularly interesting door, but it was no worse than looking at anything else out here. The prison was an ugly place; its only saving grace was that we couldn't actually see the city dump on the other side of the big hill that bordered the employee parking lot.

Oh seven thirty-three. I exhaled, watching as a white cloud of smoke and frozen breath formed in front of my face. I threw the cigarette down and headed back to the warmth of the squad room, waiting for my trainees to arrive.

There were six of them in my weapons training class. We had spent two days on classroom work, and today was to be the first day on the shooting range. I liked that part of my job--it was a welcome break from the drudgery of working inside the prison babysitting inmates all day. This particular morning five of my trainees arrived on time, but the sixth, Officer Siler, was late. She was a cute little brunette with a tenacious attitude and I had noticed her right away on that first day in class. It had been a casual attire day, and she wore tight leggings that showed off her petite yet muscular calves and firm thighs that led to a tight, perfect, thoroughly spankable ass. Not that I was hung up on her or anything--I had been married since I was 22, and in the decade since, I had never even considered cheating. But I couldn't be faulted for noticing her; I'm married, not blind.

Despite the fact that she was by far the best looking trainee that I had had yet-to-date, I wasn't about to cut her any slack for being late. I'm usually a pretty easy-going guy, but I treat my trainees with an iron fist. I take their training seriously--a mistake with a gun is a potentially fatal mistake. And my hard-ass attitude isn't confined to the gun range; I insist upon perfection in every aspect of their work, and that includes being prompt.

Officer Siler breezed in the door four minutes late.

"Trainee Siler!" I bellowed.

She stood before me and looked me squarely in the eyes. Scrappy little thing she was.

"Tardiness will not be tolerated in my class. Is that understood?"

"Sir yes sir!" she shouted, thrusting her face forward until it was a mere inches from mine. She almost looked bemused.

I found myself falling back on my military training, training that had taught me that first the troops must be broken down, then built back up. Officer Renee Siler wasn't yet broken. I had work to do.

"And what was it that caused your tardiness, Officer Siler? Rescuing cute widdle bunnies from the side of the road?" I ridiculed. A couple of the other trainees snickered in the background. Officer Siler didn't flinch.

"No sir. Just heavy traffic sir."

"That's no excuse! I don't care if you have to drive on the sidewalk to get here on time! I don't care if you have to run over your sweet little old granny to get here on time! Do you understand me?"

I stared her down, giving her my most intimidating look. It was a look that could make grown men tremble; a look that made pit bulls whimper. Unfazed, she stared right back at me.

Without deviating her gaze, slowly, deliberately, maddeningly, she placed her hands on her hips, and with an infuriatingly cute lilt to her voice said, "Bet you blink first."

Despite the fact that Siler had excelled in her bookwork, she had her struggles on the range. She kept missing the target, which was frustrating for her, making it even less likely that she would hit it the next time. I may be a hard-ass with my students, but I also know that their jobs depend on their passing this class, so I took pity on her and decided to give her some extra, personalized attention. She stayed after class to work with me.

I reviewed the basics of training with her, then it was time for me to give her some hands-on instruction. It's common practice for me to stand behind a trainee and show him or her how to hold the weapon properly, but I had never enjoyed it before as much as I did with Officer Siler.

I slid up behind her and put my arms around her as she held the gun. I placed my hands on top of her hands and pressed my face close to hers, so I could get a better handle on what she was seeing through her sights. She was wearing a thick woolen cap, but the intoxicating scent of her hair drifted toward me, and for a moment I was taken in by very unprofessional thoughts—thoughts of running my hands through her hair and nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. I shook the fantasies out of my mind and got back down to business.

"Thanks a lot for staying late to help me, Officer Blake," Siler said gratefully. We had worked together for an hour after class, and she had already shown significant improvement.

"Well, I've never had a trainee flunk out yet," I intoned, "and I'm not about to let a cocky little shit like you screw up my perfect record."

She squinted up at me. "I figured you had to have some kind of selfish reason for helping me. You've been such a jerk in class, I knew you weren't helping me out of the goodness of your heart."

I felt a little guilty for being so hard on her before.

"Sorry. I guess I've been kind of a prick."

"That's okay," she said with a mischievous grin. "I like pricks."

The next day was the last day of training, and Siler accepted my invitation to lunch. I liked her, and I wanted us to be friends. Women with a badass attitude make the best friends. If I had been single, I know I would have wanted more, but I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Well I tried anyway.

We spent the entire lunch hour talking like old friends. I was instantly comfortable with her, and we had an easy-going, natural rapport. I told her about my wife; she lamented her failed marriage. We were on a first name basis now—Justin and Renee. I wish I could say my feelings about her were completely innocent, but they weren't. By the end of our lunch hour I was already feeling a strong attraction. I realized I had a big crush on her.

That night after dinner my wife and I decided to spend a rare evening together watching TV. Jessica was a nurse, and usually she worked nights—we hardly ever seemed to see each other anymore. Even when we were together, she always had other things on her mind. Ever since she had been promoted to head nurse of her unit two years ago, her job ruled her life. I missed spending quality time with her, but I tried to understand. Still, this was not the ideal picture of married life I had always envisioned.

I cuddled up to her on the couch, hoping for some closeness. Usually I struck out. We only had sex about twice a month nowadays—she always claimed to be too tired. This time she was actually receptive to cuddling, and I started to get hard. I began rubbing her arms and shoulders, brushing back her long red hair. I reached around and unbuttoned her blouse, and slipping my hand inside, I played with her breasts through her silky black bra. I slid the shirt down from her shoulders and covered her neck with little kisses. She moaned and grabbed my hand, bringing it back to her breast, where she encouraged me to start rubbing vigorously.

I removed her shirt and bra, pushing her back as I continued bathing her neck with my tongue. I nibbled on her throat before plunging my face between her small breasts, feeling as her nipples became erect in response to my rough squeezing and pinching.

"Talk dirty to me baby," she begged breathlessly. "You know what that does to me."

I sure did.

"Oh yeah, my cock is getting so hard thinking about fucking your wet pussy. Are you getting wet for me baby?"

"I'm so wet, I need you so bad. I need you to fuck me hard!"

She proved this fact to me by guiding my hand between her legs to her hot pussy, where I spread her lips apart and rubbed against her, making her moan and beg for more. My cock was dripping now, and it started to throb.

"My pretty slut, you're going to have to suck my dick soon. You're going to put it in your mouth and suck me till I come."

"Oh yeah, I'm your slut. Treat me like the whore I am!"

I stood up in front of her, my pants bulging from my erection, and told her to take out my cock.

"Grab it baby—grab it and suck it like it's the best fucking lollipop you've ever had. Do you understand me?"

She looked up lovingly into my eyes.

"Yes daddy," she moaned. She took my cock out and pushed my pants down. I stepped out of them and ripped my shirt off. I stood naked before her, and she grabbed my balls in one hand and my dick in the other and put it to her lips. She opened her mouth wide and I pushed myself in. At first I went too deep, and she started to gag.

"You want my big cock down your throat, don't you, you little slut? Admit it, it's the best cock you've ever had. You dream of my cock every night, don't you?"

She couldn't answer—she just moaned in agreement.

"Play with your tittles, baby."

She put her hand to her nipple and started rubbing it between two fingers. Her other hand massaged my balls gently. She sucked me hard, and I grabbed the back of her head and thrust deeply into her mouth, faster and faster until my eyes rolled back in my head. She reached around and gripped my ass tightly in her hands, and with a heavy sigh and a groan, I filled her mouth with my cum.

Jessica stood up just as I collapsed onto the couch to catch my breath. She turned her back to me, and pointing her ass in my direction, she slowly began pulling down her black pants. She was wearing tight leggings, the same kind Renee had worn that first day in class. Thoughts of Renee bombarded my mind, and I could feel my dick twitch in response.

As my wife pulled off her pants and laid her body on the other end of the couch, I couldn't help but imagine that it was Renee who was in her place. Jessica ran her fingers down her body, moaning as she brushed against her nipple, then her fingers found her pussy and she started to caress herself. In my mind, it was Renee. My cock became engorged again, and I started stroking it vigorously. Jessica took her other hand and ran it through her rich mahogany hair, then she took a thick clump and put it in her mouth. She sucked on her hair and rubbed her clit against her palm, watching me as I held my tool in my hand. She loved watching me jack-off, and it was making her even hornier. Her breasts rose faster and faster as her breathing grew more rapid, and her moans intensified. I watched as she brought herself to climax; when she took a deep long breath, I knew it was my turn to take what I wanted.

I grabbed her and leaned her over the arm of the couch. She looked a little annoyed that I wasn't giving her time to catch her breath, but I didn't care. I put my hands between her thighs and spread them apart, then I pushed my cock deep inside her. She grunted when she felt me enter her; I reached around to her breasts and handled them roughly, thrusting in and out of her wet pussy as I did. A couple of minutes later I shot my cum inside her, then I pulled out and watched as it dripped down her thigh.

Oh four thirty. The alarm goes off, waking me from a sensual dream in which Renee is snuggled up against my naked body, her head on my chest, telling me what a fantastic lover I am. Damn that was a good dream! I showered and grabbed some breakfast, then headed out the door to start my hour-long commute. During the drive, I found myself to be in an unusually upbeat mood, for once looking forward to the workday. Renee had been assigned to a position in my housing unit, and today would be the first day we would be working side by side as equals, rather than as instructor and student. Not that it would change our relationship much: although I had tried my best to establish myself as "king of the hill" during class (a tactic which had worked with the other students), she had challenged my authority every step of the way, quickly putting herself on equal footing with me. Rather than infuriate me, it endeared her to me. And now we would be working together every day in the unit--true partners--and I was thankful to have an assertive, confident partner to watch my back.

As time went by Renee and I developed a close working relationship--a relationship of trust and confidence in each other--and that's vital in a dangerous environment like a prison. You have to know your partner well enough to predict her moves, know what she's thinking, and how she'll react to things. You have to have the confidence that she'll be able to handle a crisis, and bail you out of a jam if necessary. And she must have that same knowledge of, and confidence in you. Renee and I had that perfect symbiotic relationship as partners, and we developed a personal friendship as well.

Working with her was a joy. She didn't take any shit from the inmates, and they quickly discovered that she was not an officer to fuck with. She was hard-nosed and authoritative with them, never letting them get the best of her. And she loved trading jabs and insults with me--when I gave her shit, she gave it right back. She was fun, and she made my job fun. I couldn't have asked for a better partner.

I started fantasizing about her more and more often, both at work and at home. When Jessica and I had sex, I dreamed that she was Renee. I'd look at Jessica and in my mind, her long red tresses would become Renee's brunette locks, shiny and cut short, with the wonderful, intoxicating scent of her shampoo.

I always knew when Renee was nearby--there was something about the smell of her hair that had the power to send me over the edge. The scent was a mix of apples and peaches and some exotic flower, I think, and it was the perfect blend of girl-next-door and mysterious, sophisticated woman. I could get aroused just by closing my eyes and thinking about the smell of her hair--and I often did.

It wasn't long before my crush on her turned into full-blown lust. I felt guilty looking at my wife and imagining that she was someone else, but the guilt didn't make the feelings go away. Renee and I were together 8 hours a day--Jessica didn't spend nearly half that amount of time with me. The powerful bond Renee and I had developed began to erode the bond I had with my wife. I knew, for the first time in my life, that, if given the opportunity, I would cheat. I didn't think I would ever have that opportunity, though; Renee flirted with me on occasion, but I thought she wasn't at all serious.

Two months passed. One afternoon while we were at the Officer's station completing some of the day's paperwork, we heard a commotion coming from the inmate's dayroom. Renee took off down the hall while I quickly locked the desk, which is a procedure that must be followed. When I got to the dayroom I saw an inmate on the floor being kicked by another prisoner, and Renee was on the back of the attacker, trying to pull him off. Her five foot five, 130-pound body was being thrown around like a rag doll by this six foot four, 250 pound muscle-bound convict. The convict drew his arm forward and thrust his elbow back into her ribcage. I rushed forward, tackling the prisoner, and we all fell to the floor. Renee and I managed to work together to subdue him, and by the time our emergency response team arrived, we had the situation pretty much under control. I felt okay, and Renee insisted she wasn't hurt, so we went back to our desk to write up the incident report.

About a half-hour later I noticed Renee hunched over, holding her hands to her ribs.

"Are you okay?" I inquired. "It looks like he got you pretty good after all."

"It's nothing, really. Just a bruise, I'm sure."

"I'll call shift command and get you sent to the healthcare office."

"No! Don't do that!" She winced when she said the words. "If they know I'm hurt, they might make me take some time off, and I can't afford to do that. Don't say anything. Please."

"Well, if you're seriously injured, I won't be able to forgive myself for not making you see a doctor. At least let me check you out myself—just to ease my mind."

She came over to me and I reached out to touch her ribs gently through her shirt. To my surprise she pulled her uniform top out of her waistband and lifted it up. Her stomach was slim and her muscles were tight. I tenderly felt her ribcage. She tried not to yelp.

I felt all around her ribs, slowly moving my hand upward, trying to gauge how far up the pain went.

"Does it hurt here?" I'd ask, and when she'd nod, I'd move my hand an inch upward. She pulled her shirt up more, until the side of her bra was showing, and I could see the curve of her large, yet firm breast. The pain seemed to stop just under her armpit.

"I really would like you to see a doc about this." I lectured. "You may have a cracked rib." I tried not to stare at her bra, which was black and sheer.

"Tell ya what," she said. "If you quit whining about it, and vow not to tell anyone, I promise to go and see my doctor after work today. Deal?"

Grudgingly I agreed. I didn't want her to suffer if she was truly injured, but I also didn't want her to be forced to take time off she couldn't afford. I told her I would keep my mouth shut about her injury.

The next morning, she arrived at work sore, but in a good mood.

"Well, did you keep your promise?" I asked.

"Yep, I saw the doctor and he said my ribs are only bruised. In no time at all, I'll be as good as new." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I never did thank you for backing me up like that," she added. "Officer Blake, you're my hero!" She laughed. Then she grabbed me and embraced me in a warm hug and kissed my cheek.

After that day, something seemed to change between Renee and me. It hadn't seemed possible for us to grow any closer, but we did. Her flirting grew more frequent and more serious. Whereas before she would say something like, "Wow, you look HOT today, is there anything I can do to cool you down, Officer Blake?", and quickly turn and walk away, flipping her hair and showing her tight little ass to me, nowadays she would look into my eyes when she would say it, almost as if she were waiting for a response. But before I would get a chance to respond, she would turn, flip her hair, and walk away, showing her tight little ass to me. Women. I can never figure them out.

One night, six months after we had started working together, she invited me to go out to the bar with her after work. We had socialized with each other many times after work, so I didn't consider it anything unusual. My wife would be leaving for work just as I was scheduled to return home, and rather than staying home alone all evening, I eagerly took Renee up on her offer. Since she wanted to go home to change her clothes and run some errands, we agreed to meet up at the bar at 6 o'clock. That gave me time to go home and change too. I looked forward to spending time with her.

We had a couple of beers and chowed down on the bar's "World Famous" BBQ ribs. I doubted they were actually world famous, but they were pretty damn good anyway. We sat and chatted with some coworkers who had dropped in, watched some baseball on the TV., and had a good time laughing and joking around. When our colleagues left I was glad to have her alone again. We were sitting on the black leather bar stools, just finishing our beers, when I popped a piece of gum into my mouth.

"Hey, you gonna share?" she asked.