I was only 24 when I was sent to Jersey for three months to learn all about Stock Broking. I had left school at 17 and had joined a Shipping Agent company but the shipping business had collapsed with the use of the containers, and the company had to concentrate on its Investment Trust work. I was met at airport by the Managing Director who took me directly to the person who had agreed to put me up for three months. She was the widow of a director who had died some four months previously, from cancer. She took us into her house, which by Jersey standards, was large. It stood by itself and had a short driveway. The widow’s name was Jeanette and she was French. Her husband had been a director of many offshore companies as well as running his own wine business. They had met when he visited her father’s vineyard in the Loire Valley.
I quickly settled in and started work the next day on the Tuesday, in the office which was situated in Broad street, Saint Helier. My work was mundane office work with other clerks. I travelled in by bus.
Things were quiet between us for the first two weeks — I stayed in my bedroom in the evenings studying for my Financial Services qualification exams. Then on the second Saturday night she came home with a bang. I had been going up to bed after a night of quiet reading and watching television, when I heard this noise outside. I went out and saw that Jeanette had run into the gate posts with her husband’s Austin. I helped her out of the car, she was not injured and the car was dented a bit.
Jeanette staggered a bit and I helped her into the kitchen where I made her a cup of sweet tea for shock. My father is a doctor and I had learned first aid. We talked and she told me that she had had a few drinks with the man who had bought her late husband’s boat, in the Royal Jersey Yacht Club. She had got a good price for it and was celebrating. It was built in the 1930s and George, her husband, had used it to import wine to save on the cost of ferries in the year’s after the War.
When she at stopped shaking, I helped her upstairs into her bedroom. She went into her bedroom and I went to mine. I quickly undressed and I was putting on my pyjamas bottoms when I heard her calling out for me in her beautiful accented voice (like Brigitte Bardot’s voice in Doctor at Sea). She had undressed herself down to her bra, knickers, suspender belt and stockings. She was seated on her dressing table chair and asked me if I would like to peel off her stockings. I knelt at her feet and gently undid the clips at the top and then rolled each one down her legs slowly being careful not to ladder them. She leaned over to me and spoke.
“Are you enjoying this? George always did.”
I could see quite a big cleavage between her breasts and I could feel I was getting an erection. I had never made love to any girl, only had groping sessions in the back of my father’s car in the dark.
“Now follow me to the bathroom.”
I followed like a pet, and I watched watching her bum wiggle under her pink knickers; she pulled them down and sat on the lavatory, then kicked them off up into the air. I caught them and instinctively raised them to my nose for a sniff.
“You can watch me piss if you like.”
She opened her thighs and pulled open her cunt lips. I fell to my knees and saw for the first time a woman’s cunt. It was covered in hair, but I could see a stream of smelly piss shoot out from her pink coloured cave.
“Come closer” she said and pulled my head down and at the same time she moved her hips forward. Something made me move my mouth into the stream and I drank the last few spurts of piss.
“Now lick me.”
I pushed my tongue into her cunt and moved it up and down the slit. Jeanette pressed my head onto her cunt and moved her hips up as well.
“Ahhhh… that is sooo good. Lick my clitoris hard.”
My left hand moved down and I began to wank. I was shaking with lust; I had never felt so excited in my life. Jeanette pulled me up by my hair.
“Put it in me ….. fuck me!”
I struggled up and tried to get my prick into her cunt. She grabbed hold of it and pushed into herself. It was wet and warm. I fucked her very quickly and then convulsed as I ejaculated spunk into her. I collapsed into her arms.
“That was so good.”
We stayed together and caught our breath, then slowly we got back up. She went to the hand basin and drank a glass of water.
“You must come and sleep with me in my bed from now on. You are a real man not a boy now.”
We slept the night in each other’s arms. When we awoke, I had the most amazing feeling of happiness, fulfilled and purposeful. We behaved like young lovers, touching each other and laughing and smiling.
“So this is love,” I said.
We didn’t make love again till Wednesday evening. I had given up studying — boring — and sat on the sofa with her. The very nearness of her, the smell of her French perfume, aroused me. We kissed with open mouths, our tongues twisting together. Her hand went down the bulge in my pants and stroked it to erection.
“Come, let’s go to bed now. Why spend time with our clothes on?”
Jeanette undressed rapidly and I just yanked off my trousers and underpants. We landed in bed together.
“Am I your first lover? Yes? Then I shall teach you. First we kiss….. then you fondle my breasts….. now kiss my nipples… gently….. now give me your hand…. here stroke my clitoris…. feel it come out from its hood…. that’s it now rub a bit harder…..Yes that’s it.”
I was quivering with sexual excitement; my prick was achingly hard. She pushed me onto my back and threw her leg over my body and grabbed hold of it. She rubbed it up and down her slit a bit to distribute her juices then pulled it inwards and sank down until I was all in. She gasped as I hit bottom.
“Oh .. this is so beautiful… I can feel all of your cock. It’s so big and wonderful”
She moved up and down slowly, then gained speed. I pushed up as she pushed down; we built a rhythm. Then I could feel that unstoppable feeling prior to ejaculation so I pushed my forefinger into her arsehole, hard. She screamed and came as I did the same. We cuddled each other then and kissed gently before falling asleep.
On Saturday morning, Jeanette came into the bathroom where I was shaving and had a long piss. I turned round and watched as she wiped her fanny with the hand cloth which hung near the lavatory. In those days, 1964, soft toilet tissue hadn’t been introduced and women used clothes to wipe themselves after pissing. She came over to me by the hand basin and sat on the edge of the bath.
“Would you like to shave my bush please? George always did it for me every year before the summer but he wasn’t available this year and it needs doing for hygiene purposes.”
“Certainly” I said and I lathered up my shaving brush. Jeanette pulled up her nightie and opened her legs. I put foam around the edges and over her slit.
“Just shave the top of my thighs and pres de ma chatte”.
I got down on my knees and gently moved the razor over the top of her legs and then very carefully, along and over her slit. There were no protruding vulva lips. Then I wiped the whole are with a warm damp flannel. She looked down and said that I had done a good job.
“Could you go and get the jar of cold cream please from my dressing table? It stops the area from irritating me.”
I went and got the jar and applied two fingers of it onto her thighs and then onto her cunt. My fingers slipped in and I rubbed her clitoris with a smile on my face. Jeanette reached out and found my hardening prick and slowly wanked it and I masturbated her.
“Taking advantage of me are you?”
We carried on until I spurted into her hand and she came on my fingers.
“That was nice — before breakfast too!”
That evening we went to the best French restaurant in Saint Helier in a taxi because her car was being repaired. The rose wine from her father’s vineyard for that year, was being drunk by the patrons for the first time. There were lots of `Saluts` and we both drank too much. The next day, I had terrible diarrhoea and Jeanette said she felt ill and her period had started. I didn’t know what she meant so she kindly explained about women’s menstruation period of 28 days, with two weeks of fertility and one week when conception was not possible.
On the Wednesday evening Jeanette came home with a bad back, partly due to her period and partly because she had lifted too many cases of wine that day.
“Could you give my back a massage?”
“Yes, certainly, my father’s a doctor and he taught me the basic massage techniques so I could do his back when it was needed.”
“Here is a bottle of olive oil. Come upstairs and you we can try to stop this pain.”
She undressed completely and lay on a towel on the middle of her bed.
“Undress as well because I don’t want oil on your clothes”. So I did.
She lay face down and I mounted the bed and straddled her thighs. I poured a small amount of oil onto her lower back and some dribbled down her arse crack. I ignored that, and rubbed in circles, with gentle pressure, outwards from her spine. She purred with contentment as my fingers worked their magic. I progressed upwards to her shoulders and then started again. As I was doing this my prick was rubbing in the crack of her arse, and it became erect without my doing anything. I began to enjoy the sensation and I started to move faster. The cheeks of her arse were pulling my foreskin back and the forward movement excited my purple knob.
Then I moved to far back and to quickly forward and it pushed into her arse hole.
“Oh that’s nice” I said and pushed harder so that more of my cock went in. Jeanette’s head came up and she looked round.
“Carry on, here let me make it easier for you,” and she lifted her bum up and knelt on her knees.
“George always used to fuck me dans ma derriere when I had my period or didn’t have a condom to hand.”
I was enjoying the tightness and warmth of her arse hole and I moved gently in and out. Then I felt that overwhelming feeling as the spunk ran up inside my penis and into her rectum. I fell backwards and my cock slipped out. I looked down and I could see a small stream of spunk coming slowly out of her arsehole. I picked up a corner of the towel and wiped it off.
“Well that was a surprise, I must say, but my back does feel better but I feel that I want to go to the toilette now!” and she dived off into the bathroom.
After that our love making became conventional — in bed, in the usual positions, but there was one exception. On a Sunday afternoon we went for a drive in her new Citroen DS with its pneumatic suspension, which she had exchanged for the old Austin. She used the money she got from selling her late husband’s ketch. We went to the north of the island and parked on a favourite viewing point on the cliffs above the sea. There was nobody about and we sat on the grass together. Then Jeanette said she had to piss and stood up, moved away a bit, then pulled her skirt up and pulled her pants down. She had her back to me and I could see her white skinned bum and the dark blue suspender straps strained against her thighs, then a stream of piss coming out between her legs. For some reason this excited me, and I went over and slid my hand underneath and let the piss run over it. When she stopped, I rubbed her cunt gently. She moved forwards on to her knees keeping her arse pointing upwards. I shuffled on my knees until I was right up to her thighs and then I tried to insert it to her cunt. I was not succeeding and then I felt her hand from between her thighs come up and grab my penis. She held it against her cunt and I pushed into all of it was inside. She was wet with juice and hot. I fucked her slowly with love. The feeling was so intense, I could not last long.
Then she turned her head to me and said “pull out before you ejaculate — use ma derriere”.
So I pulled out and holding it in my left hand I positioned it against her arse hole and pushed it steadily into her rectum. It was too much and I pumped all my spunk into her bum. I could feel my balls tighten as if they were being squeezed to extract the juice. It was painful and pleasurable at the same time. I cock slackened off and I fell back onto my haunches.
“Wow!!” I exclaimed.
I would like to say that I stayed in Jersey, married Jeanette and made millions in the financial services market but I returned home, but I returned a MAN having gone out a boy. I left my job with the investment trust and became a salesman for a timber company with a company car. I also moved out of the family home and rented a flat with a friend. We held parties and stayed out drinking and when the gambling laws changed, gambled. This was the `Swinging Sixties`, it is said that if you could remember what you did, you weren’t there! Well, I have memories — good memories.
Author’s Note: This is the first part in what I’m hoping will be a longer series taking place in the same prison. Most parts will be longer and more extensive than this one; think of this as a prologue and tell me if you want me to continue.
The alarm rang at 6AM as it always did. Before becoming an inmate, I was never a morning person, but the prison had changed me- at least every other day.
The metal chains that bound me spread-eagle to my top bunk receded, as they always did, at exactly 6AM. I stretched my arms and legs, still slightly sore from the relentless pounding from the phalluses at the foot of my bed- one for my pussy, and one for my ass. I had gotten used to them slightly since entering the prison, but every night on the top bunk, they pounded just a little harder, just a little deeper, and the dildos were just a little thicker and longer. Some of the girls who had been here longer were consistently fucked by dildos roughly the size and length of the guards’ forearms.
The little vibrator on my clit, which had been buzzing nonstop since 6:30 the previous morning, started to die down a little. This was the cue to wake my roommate; if I did not succeed in doing so, I would be forced to endure the same torture for another 24 hours.
I slowly climbed down the stairs to the bottom bunk to find my roommate still asleep. She was a heavy sleeper; no matter how loud the alarm was, she was always back to sleep within seconds. At first this presented a significant challenge, but after all this time in the prison, I had gotten to know her, and know what worked to wake her up.
The first thing I did was take advantage of her slothfulness and drag her out of bed and into the top bunk. Being a foot shorter and at least twenty-five pounds lighter than me, she was easy to lift. By the time she started to come to and squirm, I already had her arms and legs stretched out, and pressed the button on the side of the bed for the cuffs to reappear, binding her completely.
Next came her clit. In order to release my vibrator, I needed her clit to reach a significant diameter, large enough to attach my buzzer- now hers- and leave her to relentless stimulation for the rest of the day. In the earlier days, I was reluctant to touch her too much- aside from being born straight, I didn’t want to hurt her- but the weeks and months in the prison changed me- when it came down to it every morning, it was her or me, and this time, it would be her.
I slowly lowered my tongue to her clit and began to flick it back and forth. She moaned, neither awake nor asleep, and tried to squirm away. That was a non-starter; I reached my left hand up to the space between her hips and held her down, keeping her in the same spot. With my right hand, I began to rub her g-spot, not yet enough for her to cum, and the juices started to flow. A measuring ruler sat on the bedpost, and I held it up to measure the diameter of her clit. 2.6 millimeters- only a fraction of a millimeter larger than normal.
Damn, I thought. She’s being stubborn today.
I began licking her furiously, fucking her with one, then two, and finally three fingers. She moaned louder, starting to shake, and tried to buck her hips to get away from me.
“Ready to wake up?” I murmured.
“Fuck you!” she answered. I smirked.
“Such a shame. And I was considering giving you a break for once.”
She looked up at me. “You were?”
“Nope. But now that you’re awake…”
Without giving her a chance to argue, I forced my entire hand into her unyielding cunt. She screamed, but she had been stretched significantly over the past few weeks, and her bucking against my hand only succeeded in making her more aroused. I slapped at her clit with my ruler and held it up again. 4.5 millimeters. Bingo.
“About time,” I told her with a smile. “But just so you don’t think I’d leave you hanging…”
I pressed down on her clit, hard, in a way that I knew would force her over the edge, and just before she came, I pressed the buzzer on the bed and my (our) vibrator released itself from my clit, and I latched it onto hers. I quickly moved out of the way as the dildos came back and immediately penetrated her. Yawning, I walked toward the door of the cell and waited for it to open, as it always did.
6:15. Time for breakfast.