"She likes to stick things in my butt while we are in the sixty-nine position. When she is really good, I'll let her go with one-knuckle-deep on the pinky finger."
Kitchen Pass
I had kept in touch with an old acquaintance from the
United States Marine Corps. Sonya was a Woman Marine
(WM), and she was a creamy, milk-chocolate black woman.
She had an erotic oriental look to her, and I suppose that was
because of her mother. Her father was a Marine as well, and
had met Sonya's mother while stationed at Camp Hansen
in Okinawa, Japan. Sonya and I had reconnected through
a website called, Together We Served. She found me, and
now the modern age of e-mail has made it easier to keep in
touch. Actually it relieved us all of the excuses. Sonya was
moving from Santa Ana, California to Chicago, Illinois, in
pursuit of a hospital administrator job. Lincoln, Nebraska
was not too far out of the way to stop for a visit. She had
given me a couple of weeks notice so I could plan a decent
alibi and get a kitchen pass.
It turned out that Sonya would be coming through on
a Friday evening. I was already in town with a bowling
league, so the person I would have to get a pass from was
G-Rad, my bowling team captain. That was much easier,
because I could tell him the truth in its entirety.
I must admit here that I was a little scared. Sonya's
objective was to wear me out, and fuck me until I passed out.
Time would be a factor. If I were to let her try to achieve her
goal, I might have to call in sick Saturday.
Sonya ordered me to lie on the bed. I left the Marines
as a Lance Corporal, and she, a Corporal, so I felt obligated,
and mostly willing to comply. I sprawled out there with
incredible anticipation. She peeled off the top half of her
Tampa Bay Buccaneers Cheerleader costume, and then the
skirt slid off to the fl oor. Time had been good to her; she
still had those track-star legs. The navy-blue thong left
very little to my imagination. If she had any hair, it was not
exposed yet.
She crawled across the large, king-size bed from the
end closest to my head. After giving me a deep kiss, she
continued crawling down my body, caressing her heaving
breasts across my mouth, lingering there just a moment, and
then dragging them down my torso, massaging my groin
with her mouth. Then it began. The suction was light at
fi rst. The head was gentle, like she wanted it to last. I
quickly removed her thong. There was not even a glimpse
of stubble surrounding her pussy. She must have had some
laser hair removal or something, because she was so smooth.
She let me look at it for a few moments fi rst, and then she
gently slid her knees further apart, lowering her cooze on
my face. It felt like she was trying to push my head through
the bed. Christ this would be fun! I hope she sits on my
face for a few hours fi rst. Maybe I should check the picture
on my driver's license.
"You don't know that shit off the top of your head?"
"I don't waste hard-drive space on shit I can look up."
The $300 Point
Prison guards have a rank structure not terribly unlike
that of the military. You start as a no-rank, fuzz-butt,
fart-sniffi n', entry-level peon, called the offi cer. I fi nd it
terrifi cally ironic, that our college-educated leaders in the
military are also recognized by that title. Six months after
that, you can be tested on what you have learned, and the
post orders.
If you score a 70%, you are eligible for promotion to
the rank of corporal, pending the oral interview board.
Everybody passes the oral test, unless the establishment
really does not want you promoted. At that point, they will
throw in the subjective supervisor's evaluation, and promote
whom they want. I guess this part of it is more like the
actual military than most people think.
Greg Radden had accumulated enough time in service to
be eligible for testing, long before the next test was offered.
That time arrived in late January. G-Rad was one of about
a dozen offi cers that would test for corporal. The slots were
competitive to an extent, but at that time there were more
than enough slots to promote every offi cer that passed the
test. Studying was never G-Rad's strong point. If it were,
he probably would not be working for the Department of
Corrections. He buckled down and passed the written exam
with an 84%. The oral boards were to be held a week later,
when everyone who passed could be scheduled.
On Wednesday, I arrived at roll call after my weekend,
which was on Monday and Tuesday, to fi nd out from a
mutual friend that G-Rad did not pass the oral boards on
the previous day. The fi rst thing to come to my mind was
that he must have really pissed somebody off that was on
the board. Then I found out that G-Rad had called in sick
and would not be at work that day. As soon as I could get to
the offi ce phone in my housing unit I would make a phone
call to his home phone, but when I arrived at the housing
unit, it donned on me that he had caller ID, and he probably
would not answer anything that came up "Nebraska State
Penitentiary."
After work, I jumped in the car and got on my cell
phone. G-Rad answered on the fi rst ring, "I know, I know,
don't give me any fucking shit about it."
"Fuck you Marine, I was calling to sympathize. I hope
you're not considering quitting."
"Actually, I was, but I suppose you're going to talk me
out of it."
"I was going to say, you're not behaving much like a
Marine. Come on man, it wouldn't be the same without you.
Look on the bright side, now you'll rotate into my housing
unit, and we can work together for the next eight months, or
until they have another corporal test."
"Well, there is that, but I was really looking forward to
that money."
"Well don't quit then, or you'll really be needing some
cash fl ow. You know, you're not the only one to ever fail that
stupid test. When I took my fi rst corporal test, I got cocky
and I did not study. The test was a multiple-choice test and
I thought because I had a fuckin' degree that I didn't need
to. I was an expert on multiple-choice tests. The morning
I was scheduled to test, I was rushed because the person
who was sent to relieve me wouldn't feed the inmates on
my unit. Breakfast was approaching, and she claimed that I
had better hurry. There were stupid questions pertaining to
other shifts that I had not worked. I was expecting common
sense items pertaining to the job, but there were idiotic
things that required you to study and.I had not. The exam
only took me about 10 minutes to complete. The Lieutenant
scanned my exam, and declared that I had made it. Big
relief. His assumption was safe in 99% of the exam results.
I was congratulated by four folks who had heard from the
Lieutenant that I passed. Then the captain called. He said
I scored a 69%, one point below the passing grade. I knew
he was just fucking with me, after all, the LT claimed I
had passed. He knew me well enough to play games. The
captain said I could come look at it when I got off shift. I
knew I passed it. After all, I never failed a test in my life,
not even a driver's exam. I sure as hell wasn't going to start
failing with an insignifi cant 25-question multiple-choice
test for retards."
"What did you score?"
"I'm getting to that. After work, I went to see the
captain, expecting to see a low 70s score. I saw the test, and
he even went so far as writing 69% at the top. An uneasy
grin came to my face."
"I bet you were wondering if he was fucking with
you."
"Yeah, so I asked him, "Can I see the test, Captain?" I
kept waiting for him to crack a smile, but he did not. He was
really playing this one to the hilt. I began to look through my
test, mentally adding up the points as I went. Minus 31."
"Was he fucking with you?"
"No, so I said, "Damn, I really did fail the test!" But
I was still thinking there is a possibility he is fucking with
me."
He says, "Don't worry; there will be another one in two
months."
I thought, "How can I face my co-workers?"
All I had ever heard was, "Any retard can pass that test."
The hourly wage difference between the ranks of offi cer
and corporal cost me $300 over the course of the next few
months. I scored a 98% on the next go around, after quite a
bit of time devoted to study. Scoring the highest on the exam
earned me fi rst choice of the vacant posts. It was not worth
the price. I spent more time working corporal posts after I
failed the test. When I passed, so many of us did, my post
of relief-corporal placed me in a control station more often
than when I had failed."
"Did your enthusiasm wane?"
"You better fucking believe it."
"The truth is hard to swallow."
"That's what the warm blood is for."
Dream Journal
Once I know I am dreaming I am doing some cool shit:
fl ying, breathing under water, turning invisible. All with one
thing in mind.getting nut-deep. Imagine tying their elbows
together behind their back, or the convenient placement of a
bar to separate their knees. Their titties would stick out and
you would have great access to their vaginal opening.