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When I’m released, Officer Peterson glares at me from the other side of the partition as I walk out. I feel his vindictive stare, and I turn around to laugh in his face. He’ll be in that prison for a long time, maybe for the rest of his life, and I’m never going back.
I order a town car to come pick me up and bring me home. It takes a while for the car to get to me since the prison is in the middle of fucking nowhere, but I need to get home as soon as possible. Just the atmosphere of this place is abysmal. I never want to experience this ever again.
I text Leonardo to meet me at the house, and he’s shocked to be hearing from me. He thought I was going to be locked up for at least a year because I was considered a flight risk.
When I get back home, the first thing I do is take a shower. I haven’t felt clean since the day I was arrested. I haven’t felt hot water in three months, and it takes me a moment to acclimate to the temperature that I was used to before.
I’m pretty sure I zone out in the shower for forty-five minutes before I realize that Leonardo is probably waiting for me.
I’m tempted to make him wait for me, but I’ve also missed the fuck out of him. I called him whenever he got the chance to talk, but the phones in the prison were always full or unusable.
He’s happy to see me, and that feels good. He hugs me for just a little too long, but I’ll let him have this. He’s a more emotional person than I am, and maybe I could stand to learn a thing or two from him about it.
“Okay, so first thing’s first, I need a fucking drink and a smoke. Holy shit, I have so much drinking to catch up on from being in that fucking place,” I say, walking over to the bar in the second living room and pulling a bottle of my favorite vodka out of the freezer.
“You want a cigar? Or do you want something a little stronger?” Leonardo asks, showing me a couple of pre-rolled joints he’s brought with him.
“I haven’t smoked in fucking forever. I think I have to, just for the occasion,” I reply, taking one from him with a sense of excitement that I haven’t felt in years. What a stupid thing to feel this happy about – but I’m going to hold onto it.
We walk out to the patio, watching the sun shining through the trees as the now-orange leaves fall to the ground. It feels surreal that the seasons have changed since I was in prison, but the orange, yellow, and red trees make for an incredible high.
After we’ve passed the joint back and forth to each other, I begin to remember the way that weed impacts me.
I start to feel my cock twitching a little, and Iris immediately comes to mind. I know that now is the worst possible time for me to be thinking about her, but I haven’t jerked off in god knows how long. I didn’t need to get caught with my dick out in prison. Goddamn, it was difficult, though.
I knew that weed made me hornier than a motherfucker, but I hadn’t smoked in so long that I forgot the magnitude of virile energy that this weird little substance gave me. It’s almost uncomfortable how horny I am. It makes my dick ache, just like it did before any woman was willing to give herself to me.
Leonardo goes inside to grab another drink, and I lean back as memories of Iris’s sweet, tight pussy flood my memories. I’ve thought about her a lot, sure, but this weed is making my desire for her so much more intense than it’s been in forever.
Every memory is amplified to the point that I can remember what her skin felt like against mine, how she smelled, what her face looked like as I slid my cock inside of her. It’s all picture-perfect, and my body reacts accordingly. The warmth that spreads throughout my dick feels so close to what she felt like as she was wrapped around me.
Before I know it, I’m stroking my cock through my pocket as precum drips from the tip of my dick into my boxers. It feels just a little too good right now, and I’m positive that I could get myself close if I kept going. I could just go into the house and jerk off, but what fun would that be? What a waste of a perfectly good high.
I need to see Iris right now.
Leonardo texts me that he got a call from his wife, and she needs help with their baby. Now I have the perfect opportunity to go see Iris. I know we haven’t talked in forever, and the last meeting we had went sour pretty fast, but she was the one who wanted to see me. I don’t see how today could be any different.
I try to collect myself before I get up out of my chair. I’d hate to be seen with a full erection by one of my staff, but the feeling remains to strong and difficult to control that it actually becomes a bit of a problem. It would be worse if someone saw me jerking off, so I decide to sit back and enjoy the autumn weather as I melt into the seat. I know that the intensity of this feeling won’t last forever.
It takes a little longer than I expect, but eventually I’m able to make my way inside the house to get ready for her. She doesn’t know I’m coming yet, but I doubt she’ll be unhappy to see me when I show up.
27
Iris
Ifeel like I’ve been staring at my little belly in the mirror for three hours by now.
It’s probably only been one hour, but I’m still obsessively sucking it in and covering it with clothes. The bump is still small enough that I can conceal it easily enough, but my frame is so small already that it’ll be far more obvious very soon.
I’ve never even imagined myself pregnant before. I remember seeing the way that my sister’s body changed when she got pregnant, evolving from a slim, fit little blonde into the shape of an ice cream cone. She tried as hard as she could to make pregnancy look chic and effortless, and she even got away with it for a little while.
When her third trimester came, she wassoover it. She stopped trying to coordinate cute outfits, post photos of her lovingly cradling her bump, and doing yoga in the park. She was so frustrated by the endless toll that pregnancy took on her body that she practically ran to the hospital the day she had her C-section scheduled.
She started working out only a few weeks after giving birth, which she was expressly advised not to do by her doctor. The baby weight came off, to a point at least, but I know she still struggles immensely with her body image. I sometimes wonder if she wishes she had considered a surrogate.
If pregnancy was hard enough to bring her down, what the hell is it going to do to me?
Especially without a partner?
