C26 Pablo

The woman didn't complain about anything. Graciously, as if happy to be treated like a dog, she sat on the blanket. Ramirez lay down. She sucked him again. I was a little bothered by his neglect. All right. There was the constant prejudice that prostitutes carried diseases, but so did prisoners, and usually came from outside with that shit. It didn't cost anything to suck the woman, at least to make sure she didn't feel pain, because she was lubricated enough.

Many moaned loudly for the pain, not for the pretence. I don't think I've ever met any inmate who had the courage or desire to suck a prostitute. What I thought was very bizarre, because pussy never ceased to be pussy. And it didn't cost anything to ask the girl's origins to find out if she used a condom. Most of them used it. At least for conventional sex.

The blowjob was interrupted again, and I was already wanting to laugh at the situation, when I turned again and noticed that the two were kissing. Well, at least that was more acceptable to see. Less judgmental. The woman was still sitting next to Ramirez, and attacked him with her lips. Apparently, Ramirez didn't know how to kiss when lying down, which made that kiss much better, because he didn't have enough strength on his tongue to go out licking up to the woman's forehead.

I stood aside again, because now she could hide his naked body with yours, and the situation wouldn't be so strange. Ramirez gasped between the woman's lips, looking really affected by the intensity of the kiss. Even I, being outside, thought I wanted to kiss that woman someday. In case she didn't use any drugs to have courage. Who knows?

The best of all was to realize that the woman had the facility to captivate Ramirez, to hold him in place without using her hands. Even his hands were thrown on the sides of his body. He was like a dead man who was kissed against his will. The woman didn't care. She just did her job, kissing, involving, and making him feel special.

Once again, I imagined myself in the situation, receiving that hard and lascivious kiss. Probably the woman would already be lowered from me, or pressed against a wall, as I fucked her with the same force as that kiss. I didn't have a psychological very prepared for just a kiss and nothing else. I always let myself be carried away by emotions, and when it came to sex, nothing could contain me until I reached the limit. Sometimes even after the limit.

The prostitute put herself on Ramirez's lap, clearly impatient that he had not yet done anything to her during that kiss. The woman created her own source of horniness, since her lover was not good enough for that. She slid against him, without letting herself be penetrated, just in a way of reminding him that she was still there. This worked, because, when he felt the intimacy of the woman right on top of her cock, Ramirez lowered his hand between her legs.

For a moment, I thought he would be an asshole enough not to even stick his fingers in the woman. Because not all men's assholes knew that it was necessary, not only to stimulate, but to know how ready a woman was. And I don't just say a matter of humidity, but size. Fuck. It was terrible to see or hear the lament of pain of some women, when penetrated dry, it seemed something by force and it did not attract me at all.

Ramirez touched the woman at that point of pleasure between her legs, and when she stopped kissing him to moan softly, it didn't seem to be something forced. My attention was focused on her. On the breasts that swayed as she rode Ramirez's fingers, moving up and down, going down and up, because she wanted to reach that pleasure without him interrupting her. Ramirez gave what the woman wanted. As far as I could see, he used at least two fingers.

"Are you able to move your thumb? "She said between whispers. Ramirez did what was asked, pressing his thumb against her clitoris. I doubted that he thought he had reached the right place, because he was impressed when she moaned a little more. "That's it. Right there. Thank you.

I contained my laugh, at least he was making an effort. It was already more than I used to do with the other girls. The woman had a blushing face, you could see it even under the low light between the cells, and gave a lascivious smile when Ramirez gave a soft slap on her breasts, causing them to swing even more. She stopped moving against his finger, and he pulled his hand back, keeping it on his thighs.

With a penetrating look, the woman bent down to kiss him again, while one of her hands looked for his cock to penetrate without help. With a hoarse moan, they both connected by the private parts, and the woman stopped for a moment to get used to it. Something told me that she was only doing that so that he thought it was too big for her standards. What I doubted.

With a lascivious smile the woman began to move over Ramirez, leaning her hands on her chest. He closed his eyes, I could tell because she turned hers out of impatience. It was very clear how dissatisfied I was with all that shit. And I knew I was a terrible friend for that, especially for the fact that I was watching a sex scene that didn't even concern me, but I started to think how the hell Ramirez had had sex to the point of having a daughter.

All right, he could get on that list of inmates who became powerless for countless reasons, but his daughter was still a baby. This meant that he got his wife pregnant on some of the outings. Some holiday to which he had a free pass to be at home and with his family. So, it meant that he had been so bad like that with his own wife. I didn't understand anything about love. Maybe that was the difference.

Maybe Ramirez made love. And I wasn't used to sex only in the rough and unscrupulous way. You might not be really excited or want to relieve that tension in the body. So I couldn't necessarily blame him. Fucking was what I did. That's why some girlfriends hated me and still others would give anything to visit me in prison. Some liked conventional sex, for others that wasn't enough.

And that woman about Ramirez gave the impression that she liked to be well fucked, to at least make up for the hours of work on some man. She looked like she could lie on a countertop, in the middle of the kitchen, and penetrate to the bottom. She gave the impression that she would tastely suck some man who would hold her by the hair and fuck her mouth until she almost reached her throat. And I was very able to thank you for having had the chance to do that with those who knew how to do it.