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A Prison Break Ch. 03

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Big Tits

copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved.

[Author’s note: This story is Part 3, the conclusion of A Prison Break I recommend both previous “chapters” be read prior to reading the story below.]

[Acknowledgments: My thanks to Andrea4328 for her editorial input. Her work on this story is greatly appreciated. Any mistakes remaining in the text are mine alone.]




Lana and I continued to take one day at a time. I tried my best to ignore that ‘one day at a time’ was a delusion. It was already out of control, emotions were involved, some good, some not so good for me. Maybe I was just hoping there was some good in it. I wasn’t sure, but I think Lana was only seeing the good, or what she perceived to be good.

After the sober night with her, the next visiting day at the prison was very difficult for me, filled with anxiety that Barb would somehow be able to see the truth about all of it in my eyes. She didn’t. I think Lana helped with that. She wasn’t as surly and obnoxious as she had been, in fact she probably talked more than she ever had, yet there were still remnants of the ‘bitchy Lana’ towards Barb, towards me too I guess, at least during the time in the cafeteria.

The next visitation was easier for me, and Lana was even less bitchy. That was the pattern over the next few weekly visits. I finally realized that Lana was easing into her new, or maybe it was her previous to my entering the picture, personality. I could visibly see the change in Barb due to Lana’s warmer attitude. One visitation, they both had fun ganging up on me, making little jokes, talking about me wearing “holy” jeans to work, how I worried about keeping the interior of my truck clean but never washed the exterior, stuff like that.

Even though the anxiety and guilt never left me for a moment, I found it easier to hide it, easier to lie by omission to my wife. I brought a deck of cards one Sunday as a way to fill in the conversational gaps and not have to meet Barb’s eyes. We played rummy. Barb seemed to enjoy it, so did Lana, even though near the end of the game and visit, Barb teared up before she asked, “Remember you and I playing cards when you were little, Lana?”

Lana’s eyes got a touch sparkly too. She nodded. “Yeah, those times were fun.”

I asked Lana about it later. She didn’t want to talk about it, but I pushed her a little and she told me. She said they’d play cards or some board games sometimes, but only when Barb was in a sober period and there wasn’t any guy in her life. Lana said the games were fun, but the main thing for her was having her mother’s attention, no boyfriend, and the sobriety. The bad thing was that it always made her really hopeful that Barb would just stay like that. Nice, fun, no stupid boyfriends around, just them together, have things nice and calm, and not have anymore crazy days and nights.

Lana said when she got older, around twelve or so, she stopped believing Barb about getting sober, stopped thinking there was hope, and stopped playing cards or any games with Barb during her mother’s sober periods because she didn’t want to be tempted to be hopeful. Lana said playing cards at the prison had made her feel sad and anxious, because it reminded her of how many times Barb had disappointed her in the past.

Lana and I usually didn’t sleep together on Sunday nights. That was due to me. I told her that I couldn’t handle it on the same day I saw Barb, that the guilt grew too much. The Sunday of that first card game, Lana asked if she could sleep with me, saying she just wanted to be next to me. I turned off the lamp and we spooned. A few minutes later, Lana started crying softly. I gave her head a few kisses. She talked every now and then over the next half hour, in essence telling me how much she had hoped Barb would stop drinking, how much she had hoped Barb would be like a regular mom, how much she had hoped they’d be happy and have fun together, how much she had always hoped she’d never be afraid to have a friend come over to the house.

The last thing she said was, “I didn’t want to start hating her, b-but I did… I… hated her so much sometimes. I didn’t want to hate her… I… I was so mad though… I’d get so mad sometimes, and other times I’d get so… s-scared about her, about… something bad happening to her… or-or something bad happening to me and… and she wouldn’t be there for me.”

I just held her a little closer after that. I had no idea what to say to her. She was right to feel all that. But I knew that Barb had probably tried with all her strength to give Lana what she wanted and needed, not only for Lana, but for herself too. She just couldn’t manage it. I knew I was at least as bad if not worse at handling life than Barb. Thank god a kid never had to count on me.

We only played cards a couple times after hiltonbet giriş that. Even though it appeared we were all enjoying the game, I think Barb somehow picked up on Lana’s hidden feelings about it. Barb could be very perceptive and intelligent when she was sober. She was the one who lost interest in playing. When I pulled out the cards that day, Barb said, “Mmm… not today, okay?” I only brought it up one other time and that Sunday Barb said, “Let’s just talk, all right?” I never came with cards again.

In between the visitations, Lana and I did other things together–

* * *

I felt my cock coming back to life. I slid my arm from around Lana, turned on my side and moved lower. I put my hand on her far side, leaned towards her more, then stroked my face over her small, feminine mounds. I gave her breasts a dozen slow, moist kisses, then started caressing her taut nipples with my lips and tongue. I felt her hands move onto my head, her fingers slowly combing through my hair.

She spoke softly, “I… I want to tell you something but… you have to promise not to get mad.”

My gut tensed. I pulled my face up. “What is it?”

“Promise you won’t get mad first.”

“Okay, I promise. What?” I hated it when chicks did that ‘promise me first’ routine.

Lana took a slow deep breath. She stared at her hands in my hair. “You know, sometimes when you and… and Barb would do it, you’d… you’d sometimes forget to close the bedroom door.

I blinked. “We… we did?” I couldn’t recall ever forgetting the door, but it was more than likely we had at least a few times.

“Yeah. Sometimes… sometimes I could hear you down in my room. When you left the door open, I could hear everything bett… I mean, louder. A… a couple times I… I sneaked down the hall and…” She took a breath. “…and watched you guys.”

“You… you watched?”

“Uh-huh. Not like for a long time, you know, like a minute… a-a few minutes maybe.”

I didn’t know what to think or say. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She took another breath. “One time was… was her giving you a beejay. That’s… I mean… um… I saw her running her hand on… your chest and… and you seemed to like that. That’s… that’s why I’ve done that sometimes.”

Again I didn’t know what to say. I almost told her I had been wondering about her doing the same thing as Barb. “I… I guess I do like that.”

“Another time…” Once more she took a deep breath. “Another time I… I’m not sure, but I think I saw you guys… um… doing… um… doing anal.”

My gut knotted tighter. I didn’t say anything.

“You were… I mean, she was moaning a lot and you were… going slow and like, you know, in a doggy style position, but her head and shoulders were on the bed, and… and you were stroking her back up and down, and…” She bit her lower lip.

“And what?” I held my breath.

“I don’t know… like… like on one hand I thought it… it was… I don’t know, kind of gross, I mean if it was anal, and then… then it seemed kind of really hot to me, but… but mostly… um…” She took a slow breath.


“I-I guess I watched a couple other times too, just… not very long. You two just doing it, you know, regular sex, and… I mean, the anal time, at least what I thought was anal, um… I… I thought it seemed… um….” She took another slow deep breath.

“What, Lana?”

“That time, it seemed like… I mean even if it was anal, it… it seemed you guys were… were making love, not… not just fucking.”

My mind was racing trying to come up with something to say. “It… it can be making love, just… just like regular sex can be… ahh… you know, fucking or making love.” I waited for her to say something else. She had yet to look directly at my eyes, just kept watching her hands in my hair.

“I just thought I… I should tell you I had been a little sneak and that… oh… I don’t know. I just thought I should tell you.”



“Look me in the eyes.”

She did. “What?”

“You’re a very beautiful young woman and a wonderful lover.” I saw her eyes well up. I moved higher. I slid my forearm under her shoulder. I cupped her pretty face with my palm. I kissed her lips warmly. A few seconds later her mouth opened more and my tongue touched hers. They began a slow sensual dance.

* * *

Lana gazed around the small, storefront restaurant, other than us, there were only Asian-Americans, most likely Korean-Americans sitting at the small tables. She looked at me, her eyes met mine. “How do you even know about these little places?”

We were at a Korean joint, not much on decor but I liked the food once in a while. “I lived in the city for about a year.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. Around here?”

“No, about twenty-five blocks south of here. Around Humbolt Park.” hiltonbet yeni giriş I knew she had no idea where that was.

“Oh. Did you work in the city?”

“Yeah, for this guy I knew from college. He had a little company, built the sets for trade fairs and expositions, you know, for companies and corporations, displays, counters, that sort of thing for their convention booths.”

“That sounds cool. Why did you quit doing that?”

“Better money at another job.” I had gotten drunk and into it one day with Ron. I quit that afternoon. I guess I just lied, but I actually had gotten a better paying job after that. With Ron’s crew it was either working 14 hour days or no work at all. It had been fun for the most part though, we always had beers at lunch.

I saw our waitress coming with our order. I smiled at her. There used to be a really gorgeous Korean chick who worked here. It made the meals more enjoyable. Our chunky waitress had a really big head and flat face. “Ahhh… looks great.”

She set the entree dishes down, then the tray of two sets of sides.

“I get hot soup now. You sure you want hot soup?”

I smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Okay, I get hot soup.”

Even though I had just ordered it, I couldn’t recall the name of it. I knew I was taking a gastronomic gamble eating it. It was a chicken with bones, vegetable soup that was basically a reddish brown habanero sauce. Sometimes I got really bad diarrhea from it, but I really liked the soup, best on cold winter days. It actually looked somewhat like diarrhea, including hot pepper seeds floating in it.

“What’s that smell?”

I looked at Lana. “What smell?”

“It’s coming from this tray of… of stuff.” She leaned towards the center of the table. She poked one of the rectangular dishes with her fork. “I think it’s this stuff. What is this?”

“Oh that? That’s kimchi.”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

I smiled. “I think it’s spicy, fermented, putrefied cabbage.”

“Oh gawd. I’m not eating any of that.”

I picked up my fork and got some of it. “You really should try it. It’s really good. It doesn’t taste like it smells at all.” I put it in my mouth. I had never been a big fan of kimchi, mainly because it tasted like spicy, fermented, putrefied cabbage. I swallowed. I got more on my fork. “Mmmmh. Really, you should try it.” I put more in my mouth and chewed.

Lana exhaled. She got a little bit on the very end of her fork, looked at it, smelled it, made a face, then put it in her mouth. Two seconds later her eyes grew and face contorted. She grabbed her paper napkin from her lap, covered her mouth and spit it out. “Ulllk… you jerk, it tastes exactly like it smells. Gawd, you like that?”

I chuckled, got more of the foul smelling cabbage on my fork. “Actually, I think it’s awful, but I like the cultural experience of it.” I put it in my mouth and looked at her plate. “Don’t worry, you’ll like the Korean barbecue beef, it’s really good.” I saw the waitress coming with a bowl. “But… you’ll have to try my soup too.”

“It better not taste like kimchi.”

I grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, it doesn’t.” She smiled at me and I decided to skip her taste of the soup. I wanted her to enjoy the meal. Goofing around too much would ruin it and maybe ruin the entire evening too. I watched the waitress set the bowl on the table. My grin grew. Although maybe I’d try a ‘Tom Sawyer’ on her with the soup.

I nodded to the waitress. “Thanks.” I picked up my spoon and stuck it in the bowl, slowly swirling it around. “Actually, Lana, this is really spicy, maybe you better not try it.” I brought a spoonful to my mouth. It was exactly as I remembered. My mouth was instantly burning. My eyes began to tear. “Mmmm.” I swallowed and felt my esophagus being chemically scorched. “Mannn… this is really good.” I took another spoonful.

Lana looked up from cutting her beef. “Okay, let me try it.”

* * *

Lana was still breathing heavily when she slid away from me to the edge of the mattress, turned onto her tummy, reached for her glass of soda and took a gulp. She swished it around her mouth, then swallowed. She took another drink, then set the glass down. She opened the bedside table drawer and put her hand into it. “You… you said these are all cleaned right?”

“Ahh…” I took a few more breaths while I reached for my Coke. I took a sip. “Yeah, washed twice, then washed with alcohol. Listen, Lana. If you don’t wanna ever use those that’s fine. I just mentioned it in case you really want to try ana…”

She interrupted, “I do want to try it. I… um… was just wondering about these things, if you’d think of… of anyone else if you use them on… um… with me.”

“No, I don’t think I would, but… the real question is, would you?” I sipped more soda then placed the hiltonbet güvenilirmi can my bedside table.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Lana, we don’t have to do it. Jeez… I just came so hard a couple minutes ago. I think I’m pretty happy with what we’ve been doing.” I was, but I really did want to sink my cock into her hot ass. “If we… ever want to use those things… I’ll buy a new set.”

She turned her head towards me. “That time you were… had a few beers, you… you said you really wanted to do it with me.”

She was right. “Did I?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t that drunk that night. You remember it.”

Yeah, I hadn’t been that drunk and I did remember it. The corner of my mouth curled slightly. “Why didn’t we do it that night then?”

“Because you… like real suddenly, you put your head between my legs and… and started licking.”

I smiled. “Oh… yeah. That’s right.” I reached out for her leg and palmed the back of her calve, then stroked it. “Hey. Put that thing back in the drawer and come over here. I want you to kiss me with that pretty pussy of yours, you know, holding onto the headboard.”

“I… I don’t know if I wanna do that again. It… it felt a little slutty.”

I chuckled. “I like you a little slutty sometimes.”

“You’d like me slutty all the time.”

I didn’t laugh, I just smiled, a smaller version of my earlier one. “No, I wouldn’t. Just sometimes.” I thought her eyes got a little teary. “You didn’t feel slutty after your pretty pussy started kissing me, did you?”

“I…” She took a slow breath. “I… no, I didn’t after… after a minute.”

“It really is just a very special kiss, Lana. An intimate kiss.”

“You said the same thing that night.”

“I know. I’m just reminding you. So… come over here and kiss me with your sweet little pussy.”

A little devilish smiled formed on her lips. “Say… say pretty please.”

I chuckled. “Don’t push it, baby.”

“Come on. Say it.”

She had just given me a world class beejay, and I really did like licking that hot little twat of hers. “Pretty please, let me kiss that sweet little pussy of yours.”

Lana smiled and blushed. “Well, since you put it that way… okay.”

She started moving as I slid a little lower on the bed. She placed her small feet on the mattress above my shoulders. She leaned forward and held the headboard, then lowered her bottom. My hands cupped her bubble buns as her open pink petals descended to my mouth. When her dewy flower was near my lips I mumbled, “God… you’re so slutty.”

“Shut up!” She started to stand up but my hands gripped her bottom and pulled her pussy to my mouth, my tongue began laving around her slippery slit and rubbing her clit. I had to keep holding her down for ten or so seconds, but she was only trying to rise halfheartedly, she obviously could have if she really wanted to. As soon as my tongue had touched her twat my cock started slowly re-inflating.

Lana squirmed her hips slightly, stopped trying to pull up, and her breathing quickened. “This… this is the last time I… I do this for you.”

I almost laughed into her glistening folds, but kept it to a smile. I knew that was a lie. My tongue rubbed her big pearl ravenously.

“Mmmhh… oh… oh gawwwd,” she moaned then pressed her slippery labs to my mouth.

* * *

The music was good but was so fuckin’ loud I couldn’t think straight. I hated these clubs. I had never been a ‘dancer.’ I was too freakin’ self-conscious. I would only dance at home alone to some song I liked when I was in some sort of manic mood, and I couldn’t recall the last time I had done that. Actually there were a few occasions, when I was nearly totally smashed that Barb had made me dance, but those times were really hazy in my memory.

For a week Lana had whined about wanting to come here. I finally caved, knowing she really wanted to, and that we could never act like a couple around town. I knew it was a little risky doing it in the city too, especially in a place like this where one of her stupid friends might also have decided they really-really needed to see this band. I had been concerned that I’d not be able to drink, thinking if Lana at eighteen could get in, there probably wouldn’t be any access to booze. Surprisingly there was. I was working on my third bourbon rocks. I had known I’d need more than beer to get through this evening. I hated drinking whiskey out of plastic cups.

Lana put her mouth near my ear, made easier because of her high heeled pumps, “C’mon… just one dance! The next song I like! C’mon, just one dance! Pleeeease!”

I looked around the laser scribed, strobed, and pulsing color spotlighted club. I was surprised only a small group was dancing, the rest of the herd was standing around like zombies watching the band. I wished again I had brought my earplugs. I felt Lana grip my arm and her chin on my shoulder.

She shouted over the noise again, “C’mon! Just one dance!”

We were standing at a high, tiny, round table. There were no stools. I lowered my head. “We’ll lose our table!”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Who cares?! We don’t need it!”

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