Not so fast. What’s this all about? Let me start from an earlier time…
I joined the US military out of highschool. I scored in the top 1% of their ASVAB—I think I remember the name correctly—, which is their entrance aptitude test. Don’t ask me how, but I ended up as a Police dude. I had no real interest, but the recruiter was pushing me in that direction, and I fell for it.
After the debacle of training, I ended up stationed in Japan—I have made reference to some expereinces elsewhere. After a few months I decided the whole concept sucked and I was surrounded by idiots, so I claimed Consciencious Objector status. Being police, this meant I could no longer carry a weapon, and so I was relegated to desk duties, which sucked as well. It wasn’t much longer when I tendered my resignation.
Well, time went by and by and by, and I heard no reply about my resignation. I had acrued some holiday time, and so I took a couple weeks off and hung around Tokyo with my girlfriend of the time. That was nice enough. I pierced my ear and decided I didn’t to cut my hair on the grounds women were not subject to the same constraints. This posed no problem—until I returned to duty.
My sargeant—a guy I actually liked—ordered me to remove the earring, but I refused in good conscience. He had little recourse but to report me to his sargeant, but I refused him as well. Finally, it was escalated to the major in charge of the military police on the base. It goes without saying that I refused him, too.
Well, these guys have big egos, so they threatened me with courts martial if I didn’t listen to them. I said fine, was totally relieved of duty and secured a lawyer in my defence. Well, the good news is that I had another month or so of holiday—on the house, as it were. I hung around with my girlfriend in and around Tokyo some more. The bad news is that I was convicted of Failure to Follow Orders and some Misconduct something or other, and I was sentenced to six months. Oops! I was acused of just trying to get kicked out of the military.
As it turned out—I was friends with the major’s administrative assistant (or whatever they called them)—, the major had recieved my discharge orders the day after I failed to follow his orders. My never mentioned this during my courts martial, and so I had grounds for appeal—but I had to start serving first.
I spent about a month in Japan in a cell at the station. At least I knew everybody, and my girlfriend even stopped by—no conjugal visits, though. Damn! After that, I was transfered to Kansas—I forget the name of the place. I had five months left in my sentence with potential time off for good behaviour, but I wouldn’t get any of that. Doh! I won’t get into those details, but on to the subject at hand—Prison Sex. That is not a topic that sounds very good, but here goes.
We had to do labour, and sometimes this involved kitchen duty. This was the the only place where males and females mixed. There was one blonde chick there with whom I had a mutual attraction. After some chatting—mostly about sex and masturbation practises—, we decided we could probably get together in the unisex bathroom, which was designed for one one person. I am not sure how often this happened, and we certainly didn’t want to get caught. We figured it would be worth the risk.
Nothing was particularly different than you would expect—hey, this is a journal; I am not a professional sex story writer. We kissed heavily, and worked as quickly as we could lip-locked to get our clothes off—at least the strategically placed items. I worked open her shirt and got her bra out of my way, and we both took off our pants and underwear. Needless to say, she did not have a shaven or even a trimmed pussy. I had to rough it.
We had trouble finding a place where we could get the job done—and I didn’t want to go down on some chick sitting on a toilet seat. She ended up leaning back against the sick and arching herself to present her pussy. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked, and she came nicely. I have to admit I was worried that she might back out after she came, but she was gracious.
We changed positions and she got down and started sucking my cock. She wanted to get fucked, and since there was so little space, it was going to be from behind with her leaning over the sink. Of course, it felt great especially considering I hadn’t had any sexual contact in several months. With that in mind—besides I just wanted to—, I told her when I was ready to cum, she needed to take it in her mouth. I didn’t want the mess, and I pointed out that she probably didn’t want cum dripping down her leg the rest of the afternoon. This worked for her, so when I was just about ready to cum, I told her. We swapped positions, and with just a few strokes in her mouth, I released the fury. She swallowed my cum like a good girl.
There wasn’t much to clean up. We kissed and she exited the bathroom. I waited a few seconds, and then I left. We worked together a few times after that. We did enjoy some playful teasing, but we never got together again. We were a bit too nervous—rather, she was.
I couple of months later, I was back on the streets. I never did appeal the case, but my resignation was approved. The military asked me if I had changed my mind, that the would retrain me if I wanted to remain, but I wanted no part of these people. And life goes on…