I was cowering in a corner of my cubicle, when I heard the sharp click-clack of senior high blackguard on a stone base. I pictured, with dry humour, a sexy warden wearing mellow dog and coming to punish the poor people prisoner. That was what kept my spirits up in this woeful place ; humour and fantasies.


As the person with blackguard came closer, I was able to glint at her through the minuscule barricaded hole on the cell doorway. Even from afar, she seemed like a formidable woman - beautiful case, long black tomentum, dressed in black from promontory to toe, and she somehow had this air about her… I can't explicate it, except that maybe the best word to identify her mien would be ‘ personal magnetism ’. As she spoke to the screw, her hands emphasized her Good Book with graphic gestures. The turnkey seemed fright, but showed admirable courage in denying the lady what she demanded. I already knew, watching from afar and without being able to make out the words of their conversation, that this woman had the self-confidence of someone who was rarely or never denied. And as it turned out, she wasn't this fourth dimension either ; when the jailer refused to give in, she up and walked away, only to reelect a few minute later with the pitiful jailor's higher-up. And this cryptic gentlewoman was granted an accession to the prison.


I was queer about this woman, and very much in erotic love, even before I had ever talked to her. As she walked past my prison cell, I retreated from my watching spot, only to see her come towards my door and ask the jailer to unlock it. I retreated all the way into the recession, suddenly terrified. Even if being alone in my cell meant being lonely, someone coming to my cell usually meant very bad news.


The woman stepped in, and the jailor closed the door behind her. For a while she just stood there, watching me. I avoided her gaze, but stole glances of her hands. Those big, strong, delicate hands I suddenly wanted to touch. She didn't come any near, respecting my personal limit ; instead, she spoke to me.

"seed here,"she said, her vox gentle and bereft of all that demanding tone she had used on the jailor."Don't be afraid,"she added when I hesitated.

I took a conservative tone closer, but hesitated again. I wanted to ask who she was. And what she was doing here. What she wanted of me ? I wanted to believe she didn't mean me any harm, but as long as I wasn't sure I could not be at ease at her presence.


As I stood there, eyeing her - still not her face, only those beautiful manpower and the high-heeled horseshoe she was wearing - she extended her bridge player to me.

"seed on,"she renewed her plea, her voice even softer this fourth dimension."I'll take care of you."

I froze at those words, and slowly lifted my regard to meet her eyes. Seeing the warmth in them made me take a slow breath, just to steady my racing philia. And no more hesitating ; I closed the distance between us, taking her extended hand, and she pulled me into an embrace. I closed my eyes as she pulled my head against her chest of drawers, caressing my hair. I inhaled her scent, a sweet-smelling perfume, not too overwhelming but certainly noticeable. For a longsighted while, we just stood there, as she was holding me close and stroking my pilus, rocking me softly in her arms.


After what felt like an eternity, she planted a easy kiss on my forefront, then lead me to sit on the bed. Sitting beside me she cleared a strand of hair from my grimace, then took my hands into hers. As she was looking at me, I knew I could narrate her anything I wished.

"What's your name ?"I asked. My voice was hoarse, since I hadn't spoken aloud in days.

She lifted her hand to caress my cheek as she replied,"I'm Kaliopi."

subject matter with that answer, I leaned in to rest my principal on her shoulder. She kept stroking me, my buttock, my hired hand, my arms, my thigh. There was a long moment of silence, until I lifted my point to look at her one more than prison term. She had a somewhat Slavonic language face - with the big olfactory organ I always liked in Slavonic girls - and long, very true black hair, and judgement by the crease on her cheek she was in her mid-40s. Suddenly I realized I was staring at her sassing, and wanting to do a lot to a greater extent than just stare. I leaned in again, to whisper into her ear,

'' Te sakam."

A wonderfully utilitarian idiomatic expression, since it means both"I love you"and"I want you ”. I stayed close to her ear, knowing I was so close she could experience my hint. After a piece I slowly retreated to meet her eyes again. The heat in them was still there. I placed my paw on her impudence and leaned in ... and the first feeling of those brim was all but Creator. She kissed me back, so tenderly I feared my affection would burst. As she slipped her tongue into my mouth, I inhaled sharply and, unconsciously, pushed my body against hers. Her hands were caressing my back and my side, and the kiss that had started out so tender and delicate was becoming more and Thomas More passionate.


She now took the spark advance, peeling my shirt off but never stopping the fondling for long. Then she gently pushed me down to lie on the bed, and came succeeding to me, her hired hand now caressing my breadbasket. I can't even describe how wonderful those digit felt on my bare peel. When her hand touched my breast through the fabric of my bra, the tactual sensation made me hold my breath - long enough for her to let out a diminished chuckle and remind me to keep breathing. I smiled as I resumed breathing, and her hands kept traveling on my skin. Soon, she added another sensation, softly brushing her lip on the side of my neck. I tilted my head to give her respectable memory access, and she used the opportunity to kiss the Same position properly this fourth dimension. She even sucked gently, not hard enough to go out a stain but hard enough to draw a very needy little moan out of me and seduce my hips buckle against her. She smiled against my neck, a smile that I could not see but could sense on my skin, and kept planting osculation down my neck. Her script now rested on my inner thigh, and I was very aware of it being there, almost where I needed it the most but not quite. But she managed to trouble me by placing a buss on my breast, just on the molding of the fabric of the bra. As I subconsciously arched my back, she slipped a paw under me and unhooked my bra, then swiftly removed the garment. It was gone so fast that I almost didn't notice.


As the bra was discarded, she now had entire access to my chest. She placed pocket-size kisses on the hide, then swept her lingua over a nipple, making me arch my back again. She sucked the nipple into her mouth, stroking her fingers over the other one. I bit my lower berth lip, seeing in my nous how those beautiful finger with bright red nail polish looked like on my breast. As she kept licking and stroking, my body was moving on its own accord, and I was becoming so wet that I seriously needed to lose my pants. Which she understood soon, taking a break from the caressing in monastic order to pull my trouser away. scanty followed suit without further ado, and so I was completely naked.


Which reminded me of the fact that I wanted to see that gorgeous consistence of hers, too. She had managed to trance me so completely that I had literally been mindless for a while. Knowing that I couldn't keep my humour about me under her establishment, I decided to act quickly. I opened my heart ( when had I closed them ? ) and tugged the hem of her shirt, not finding words but wishing to convey my intentions by gaze. She understood, lifted herself up a bit and removed the shirt. I lifted myself too, slowly bringing my bridge player to advert those big, lenient breasts. After a piece, she smiled at me and removed her bra, after which I simply couldn't resist and took one of those beautiful mammilla in my mouth. She placed her hand on the back of my head and arched her back, and I was happy to fulfill that unspoken wish, sucking a bit harder, then licking, then sucking again. She took my hand and guided it to the other titty, then covered it with her hand, leaving my hand comfortably squeezed between her white meat and her hand. Her quickened breathing space and soft sigh were medicine to my ears.


After a farsighted patch of enjoying those gorgeous breasts, I lifted my eyes to see her font again. She placed a finger's breadth under my chin and gently brought me up to osculate her mouth again. I did so, my hands on her berm, as she gently swept me back to lying down on the bed, this time coming over me, parting my branch and positioning herself between them. As her sex touched mine the first fourth dimension, I gasped and earth myself against her, desperate for greater contact. She repositioned so that her sex was now against my thigh, and her thigh against my pussy. I wrapped my arms around her neck as we found a becalm beat of grinding against each former, pulling her down feather for a kiss. She tucked her prospicient tomentum behind her ear, then took my hand and pushed it down on the mattress, above my head, her fingers intertwining with mine. She bit my downcast lip, so gently it didn't injury, but sent billion of lilliputian shudder down my spine, making me gasp into her mouth. As my breathing was getting quicker, she leaned close to my ear so I could take heed and feel her equally turn on breathing spell, then she nibbled at my earlobe, making me groan aloud. She then lifted herself a bit, and I almost cried at the lost contact lens. She Sir Thomas More than made up for it however, sliding two fingers into my dripping wet cunt. As she set a unfluctuating pace, my pelvic girdle buckled to contact her script with every stab. Her lips were still only an column inch away from my ear.

"Do you want to occur ?"she whispered in a low, husky voice.

I was too far gone to verbalise a simple coherent condemnation, but I made a strait in the affirmatory. And a desperate one at that. She kissed me on the sassing, long and recondite, and then leaned close to my ear again.

"Come on my hand, slight one. I'll be here for you. I'll take concern of you."

Those words again, and her still, husky voice, her breathing place in my ear - she drove me over the sharpness. And she kept me there, kept me riding the undulation of my sexual climax, holding me close and safe at the same sentence. It seemed to last for several minutes, and when I finally came back down, she squeezed me tightly against herself, kissing me on the impertinence, on the forehead, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around me. I eased myself into her contact, feeling good and more comfortable than I ever had.


I fell asleep in her weapon, as she was idly caressing me, sometimes muttering sweetly little words for me. Somehow I knew I would be secure, and she would still be there when I'd wake up. I don't think I had ever slept that peacefully before, as I did in her munition that night. She kept her promise ; she was taking care of me .