Jailed Young Housewife

“Huh… what are you… oh…doing?  Ah, no…no more…baby,” Kaylah Jordan groggily moaned, interrupted from another incredible high, momentarily aware that she was lying in her prison bed, her cellmate fondling her exposed breasts, sucking on her erect nipples.  But she couldn’t remember how she ended up here with him or how he removed her top.

Uncertain if it was day or night, Kaylah’s eyes tried focusing on the fluorescent light dimly flickering in their cell. Her cellmate’s attention descended lower, and she instinctively clutched the baggy pants of her jail uniform as he began tugging at them. “Don't...Can’t…anymore, baby,” she somnolently protested.

Kept in a heavily drugged stupor, Kaylah lost track of the many days locked in this foreign pit with a young, virile Black man, separated from her husband.

“Come on, baby.  Yes you can. Let me have some more that silky tight pussy.  I’m hard again,” he said, his voice a warm, distant echo in her mind.

“Hard again…?” she incoherently mumbled back to him, her eyes glassy—barely opening.

“That right, baby.  You make me hard—then love me and share that pussy, and you get big Black cock, remember?” Reggie replied.

“Make hard…love…share pussy...big Black cock…” she softly mumbled, as if vaguely recognizing and accepting the concept that her cellmate had repeated to her countless times while she was drugged.

“That right—I’m your jail husband and you love me now.”

“Jail husband…love you…”

“You learnin’ to make love to me.”

“Make love…to you…”

“Yeah, Torres figure if you comfortable fuckin’ a Brother like me with a big black dick, you’ll be ready to fuck anyone.”

Torres kept increasing Kaylah's dosages, taking a sadistic delight in the addictive effects, the most recent one really fucking her up.  She was completely out of it.

Having quickly regained an erection playing with his cellmate’s firm, young tits, Reggie intended to use it to further groom the drugged housewife. This was a job he relished, easily prying each of her fingers from the waistband of her orange pants. He successfully released the prison garment from her grip, sliding it and another sexy thong Torres made her wear, down her long, slender legs, leaving her completely nude beneath him as she slipped back into a drugged oblivion.

He gently ushered her legs apart, leaving them hanging off each side of their bed, carefully stretched her delicate labia wide open with his fingers, fully exposing her most intimate area now his acquired territory, and ran the head of his cock up and down her pink, wet slit.

“Nah…d-don’t…wrong...” she mumbled, reaching down to stop him.

Reggie grabbed hold of Kaylah’s wrist, easily moving her hand aside.

“Shh…It not wrong sharing your pussy with me, baby.  You in a different world than you once was.  You be a cartel whore. I be your jail husband now, and this what you do with me, remember?  You be likin’ this and want me to love you, baby,” he soothed to her.  “You need to stop fightin' it.”

“Oh—jail husband…love you...” she distantly repeated, the little resistance she initially offered vanishing as he began massaging her clitoris with the smooth head of his penis, his precum providing clear lubricant for her sexual assault.

"Ooh...um...uh-huh," she began to moan. Before her introduction to powerful narcotics, Mrs. Kaylah Jordan, like countless other innocent females captured for trafficking by the cartel, had resisted with all her strength the abhorrent sexual molestations her cellmate kept practicing on her. But kept heavily drugged, he now easily performed them with dwindling opposition from her.

Kaylah Jordan’s clitoris responded, growing harder and more sensitive beneath her cellmate’s enormous penis, her pelvis starting to undulate from the stimulus.    

“Yeah, that it...see how good that make your pussy feel there, baby?  Clit massages you used to hate gettin' from me growin' on you. It natural for a woman to be with a man.  See how much you startin’ to like it with me?” she heard someone repeating to her from far away, all her focus drawn to her clitoris, nothing else mattering.

“Uh…ah…my pussy…ooooh...nah...” she murmured as if speaking from a dream, trailing off again in her drug induced bliss.

“Yeah, the cartel gonna keep shooting' you up so they can sell your fine pussy, baby. You gotta accept it.”

Reggie smiled as he watched how his cellmate’s hips now moved receptively to the clitoral massages she once fought against receiving, the granite edge of this once refined woman's resistance wearing away—her strong defiance softening from narcotics and persistence.  Things were definitely changing for the demure young housewife, once too good for drugs and negro a dick.

“You always be so wet for me, baby—learnin’ how to love me and takin’ to big Black cock, huh?” he whispered affectionately in her ear.

“Love you…big Black cock…” she repeated in her drugged delirium.

Her labia parted, her cellmate’s huge Black penis slowly entering her wet birth canal, reaching her furtherest depths, stretching her pussy to its limits. She perceived every ridge and bump along the entire length of his thick shaft, the sensitive walls of her vagina tightly griping and lubricating the humongous organ that had invaded and claimed her body.

She moaned senselessly, her arms instinctively embracing her former enemy, her hands roaming his muscular back as she euphorically melded with him, no longer remembering her husband or recognizing her rapist. The acts Reggie kept repeating on her slowly transformed from rape to adultery as her resistance to them waned. His thrusts starting in earnest, the bedsprings squeaked loudly in a familiar rhythm blending with her moans and echoing throughout the empty stone corridors. The addictive chemicals given to Steve Jordan’s once faithful wife in greater quantities, bathed her mind in a deceptive warmth and bliss.