The California visit left me nearly paralyzed by the death of a man I briefly knew. The cops interrogated me relentlessly as the only witness to the shooting. They were firm but not as harsh as you see in the movies. There were no good guy, bad guy policemen. They let Lucas and me go after grilling us for hours. I knew from my work, their idea was to wear down the witnesses and/or suspect until they changed their story. Our stories never changed the entire time. They had no choice but to let us go. It was time for me to get back home and in a hurry.

The plane from LAX landed in Newark late on a Sunday night, and I hired Uber to take me home. The driver was a soft spoken Jamaican, handsome and polite. I was exhausted and appreciated him carrying my luggage up to my third floor apartment. So I asked if he would like a Coke or cup of coffee. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat in the kitchen talking about ourselves.

He hoped to be able to stay in the U.S., maybe even becoming a citizen. In the kitchen, he said how much he missed his girlfriends back home and wished they were with him. I didn't know if he was misusing the English language by the plural reference, or that he was just that kind of man.

I told him I had spent a few days and nights with a man in California, but the relationship didn't work out.

It was getting late. I asked him if he wanted to stay. He said he would. Having someone stay the night with me was such a comfort after all I'd been through.

Although he was young, he was an excellent driver and an even better lover. Not having his girlfriends around provided a nice benefit for me. He had a firm hard cock, big enough but not huge, yet he made up for his size with volume. It was obvious he hadn't had sex for a long time. He came quickly, but when he pulled out, the gusher of cum pouring out of me was like white water rapids. It illustrated that he held a lot in reserve. How I love a man with reserves to fill me full of his seed.

He had to get back to work the next morning, but didn't leave before a quickie. Again, he left another huge load inside me that continued to drain out for most of the day. I don't remember his name. I should have written it down for my future plans.

I got into police work directly after college. Jobs were hard to find, but there are always openings in the police department. My plan was to work in social services. There wasn't a position open for someone like me without experience. Instead, they sent me to the police academy for six months. I learned to fire a gun, Tazer people, unarm a shooter, use clubs, all the skills a policewoman would need.

The whole six months was like being in an Army boot camp. I hated it but graduated, and got a job as a guard at a correctional center for women. I should have called it a bordello. I got the night shift being a rookie, and soon learned that the guards were fucking inmates who asked for special favors. The inmates were fucking each other and the other guards were hitting on me daily. I just tried to ignore what I heard and saw. After two weeks, the warden called me into his office. "Officer Kendra, we're getting a few complaints about you."

"Warden, I'm really trying to do the best I can."

"Maybe in your duties, but the complaint is from the staff. They tell me you are not very friendly."

"I try to be nice to everyone."

"Really. I'm talking about being friendly, not just being nice. Have you ever milked a cow, officer?"

"No sir. I'm a city girl."

"Come over here and let me show you how it's done." I walked next to him behind the desk, and he had his pants down to his knees. His cock was stiff with purple veins running up and down from top to bottom. "Here's how it's done, officer," and he wrapped my fingers around his dick.

"First you squeeze, then gently pull." I did as he said. "That's it, now do it again. Good. Keep repeating it until the milk squirts out."

He was showing me how to give him a hand job, something I learned as a teenager. I didn't need his coaching. The warden took my hand and spit in it. "Now that it is slippery, you can slide it up and down going faster each time."

His eyes took on a dreamy look, and he was breathing hard. He began moaning with a guttery sound, so I knew he was close. Five minutes into the milking, jets of his milk sprayed out all over the desk and floor nearly hitting my face.

My farm duties finished, I turned to leave when he said, "Do you like the taste of milk, Officer Kendra?" I said nothing. "The next time, I'll give you a drink."

The next time? I thought. There's going to be a next time?

Yes, there was a next time and another and another. On he second office call he said, "Officer, I need you to help me straighten something out." He had me on my knees, under his desk with my head between his legs. His cock was soft and limp until he had it in my mouth and became straight. The warden was not a man of endurance. Within minutes, I got the drink of milk he promised.

"Now, tell me Officer Kendra, do you like milk?

"Yes, warden. I like milk," but that didn't necessarily mean his.

"Okay, glad to hear it. By the way, there's a disturbance in Cell Block Three. Find out what's going on over there."

I wouldn't call it a disturbance. Sheila, who was in for petty larceny, was going down on Kayce who was locked up for manslaughter. The two were making the usual sounds of gratification. I had made it my policy from the beginning not to disturb situations like that. It helped me get along with the incarcerated women who were living in a cat-house.

At the third meeting, the warden asked me to take down the top of my uniform. The warden wanted to be titty fucked. I seemed to be his personal mistress after only six weeks on the job, although I knew a few of the inmates made office visits as well.

The rumor was that the warden was going to be transferred. He called me in one more time. He was watching the TV monitor. The surveillance cameras were focused on a couple in the conjugal visit room. The warden was stroking his member and without much fanfare, pushed me under his desk with my ass facing him. The warden pulled down the bottom of my uniform and used me for his pleasure. He said it was a farewell present. Who did he think got the present? I wondered.

He didn't want me to leave without giving me another taste of his milk. So, he took two fingers, scooped his cum out of my pussy and shoved it in my mouth. His perverted state of mind was spinning out of control, doing it over again until there was nothing left.

His replacement, the new warden, was a woman who was determined to tighten things up. It didn't happen especially since she was a passionate lesbian. I was called into the office, she said, for a performance review.

"Kendra, I've been reading your record. It is excellent. I like a girl that uses her initiative on the job. At that, she unbuttoned the blouse of her uniform and showed me two massive breasts. They were not firm like that of a younger woman. They hung down her chest like two half filled water balloons and must have been magnificent when she was my age. Her areoles were massive, the size on the lid of a pickle jar. "Come over here darling and give me a kiss." I wasn't prepared for this, but needed to do it to keep my good record.

We kissed for just an instant before she gently pushed my head toward her nipples until my lips were sucking them. My tongue circled each one until they began to harden. All the while, she had her hand between my legs massaging my valley of pleasure. "Oh Kendra, that feels so good. Can you help me with one more thing?" and she slipped down her trousers. I didn't have to ask what the one more thing would be.

I parted her legs and went down on her, eating her out until she came with a burst of an orgasm. "God, god, gracious god, that feels so good," she cried. "You're the best and still so young."

That was all on the first meeting. The next time she went down on me after I had finished with her. This was really much better than with the other warden, but not among my professional goals. It certainly wasn't what I had imagined doing after college.

This relationship continued at intervals of ten days to two weeks. Eventually, I was past the point of wanting a woman again. She called me in to ask why I hadn't been around lately. I told her I needed a man. Then she opened a desk drawer and pulled out a very robust strap-on. "Okay," she said. "I can help you with that," and she did.

The warden just lubed it up and plunged it into my pussy from bow to stern. She fucked me like that until she was satisfied that I had cum enough, so she could lick up the clear sticky fluids overflowing from my pussy.

Two days later, I put in for a transfer.

The transfer came through a month later. I was assigned night patrol with Shane, a thirty-something year old handsome muscular cop. He had been on the force for over ten years, and was assigned to show me the ropes. He said he had been a weight lifter and wrestler in college. I give him an edited version of my college years and work at the penitentiary. The only mention of sex was in a vague notion that something illicit occurred at the correctional center that made me transfer.

His police squad car was our office. We cruised the streets breaking up drunken brawls, going to homes with marital conflicts, catching teenagers with drugs, and a night when we picked up three prostitutes.

For the several weeks we had been together, Shane was professional and helpful. As we got to know and trust each other, we were more willing to confide in each other. He told me about his failing marriage and their many arguments. I told him about growing up and wanting to be a hippie like my parents. I might have slipped up when telling him about my roommate, Spud, and how we managed our GPA, but nothing suggested we might hook up. He said he knew a few girls that got through school that way. One was his wife whom he met in college.

The night we arrested the three prostitutes was different. The hookers, who couldn't have been a day over seventeen, offered him their services if he would let them go. They were cute in their mini-skirts and braless t-shirts that said, "Hire Me!" He said, "No, I have my partner here."

Back on the beat, I asked him what he meant by that comment. "We leave the working girls alone most of the time. Those three are new on the street, so I had to teach them a lesson.

"Look, Kendra, night after night we've been together, I haven't hit on you once. I just can't continue like this. I want you and that's all I think about when we are together. I get so horny I get distracted on the job." Then he put his hand behind my head and pulled me close for a kiss.

I don't know. Maybe I kissed him too eagerly. Maybe I needed it too. Whatever it was, he had his hands inside my uniform. I had my hand on the bulge between his legs.

He drove the squad car to a remote location where I opened my uniform for him to play with and suck my tits. He unzipped his pants. Nothing more than a blowjob happened that night. He displayed his distraction with a powerful geyser that filled my mouth dripping out of the sides of my lips before I had a chance to swallow it all.

After our pulse rates returned to normal, I said, "Shane, I hope you remembered to turn off your body cam." He said he did, but I wasn't so sure.

We never fucked while on duty. I gave him an occasional blowjob, then there were some nights I wore no panties so he could finger fuck me without wrinkling my uniform. I just grabbed his hand, put it between my thighs, showing him my distraction. He did the rest.

There are nights while nothing is happening on patrol when it frees your mind. One gloomy uneventful night, we got to talking, and he admitted getting laid by a whore after work at the adult book. He said the girls have a working relationship with him as long as they stay close to home. "She was returning a favor," he said. Shane asked me if I had done a glory hole. "What's that?" I asked.

"Let's go down to Lotus Street and I'll show you. Now is as good a time as any to widen your education."

"That's a pretty tough part of town, isn't it Shane? That's where they have adult book stores, and we picked up those teen hookers?"

"Yep, that's the place. They should get to know and recognize you so they trust us. We don't want to get too careful with the letter of the law. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I get it."

He drove to the back of a porn shop that had glittering neon lights in front beaming "Heaven On Earth." Shane introduced me to a black man he called, Tommy, and a couple of the girls. They all were anxious to make him happy in the back room. He said no, we were there for inspection.

The inspection was in the Ladies room. He undressed me. I thought he was planning on fucking me right there in the bathroom. That wasn't the plan. He left and told me to lock the door and to look around the room. I waited and looked around. A porn video played on the monitor above the toilet. There were several holes in the wall that I assumed were peep holes until a large hard cock appeared through one of them. Above the hole it said, "Suck the dick." Like a lightning bolt streaking across the sky, I got the whole glory hole thing in my head and went to work.

It looked like Shane's cock, but I couldn't be absolutely sure. I was getting into it pretty good when the anonymous cock exploded. I licked my lips and wiped my face when a second cock appeared. It was not Shane's. It was black meat. I think it was Tommy. He was a man of both size and stamina. I worked his cock for ten minutes before he finally creamed my face with powerful shots of cum.

A third cock slipped into a hole. Somehow he managed to squeeze his balls through the hole as well. A muffled voice said, "Put your ass up to the wall." I immediately realized what he wanted. I was too wet and horny to stop myself. I wanted it too. With a little agility, I got his cock in my wet cunt and worked it until he finished.

When the holes in the wall were empty, I was done for the night. Apparently, I had been to the heaven promised by the sign out front.

Shane asked me what I thought of my after hours experience. I said, "Shane, I think I lost my bearings in there. I forgot who I was. I'm a little embarrassed."

He said, "Kendra, it's all about trust. I think they can trust you now."

"Yes, Shane, I can see that. And now I know what you meant by showing me the ropes, only I wasn't expecting those kinds of ropes."

Shane and I wouldn't be able to have that kind of sexual stimulation for a few more weeks.

On a dark rainy night with thunder cracking and the wind howling, he called me on my cell. "Kendra, the boys and I are having a poker night. Would you like to join us?" There was nothing on TV, so I said yes.

I drove through sheets of rain for a quarter of an hour before parking in front of an apartment building. It was not where Shane lived, but one of his bachelor buddies. I took the elevator to the third floor. Obviously, poker night was drinking night too. Before long, it became poke her night.

"Shit," one of the guys gushed at the poker table when I walked in. "Shane, I thought you called your wife to join us like last time. Looks like you have been patrolling a new area." Shane and the others laughed. I wasn't amused.

At first there was a lot of kidding around, joking and playfulness. I was the gofer girl and fetched beer whenever they needed a refill. I watched their games and the chips change hands. They called me "Partner" at first, then Shane's darling mistress. By midnight, the rain had stopped and the men were very lively, excited and nearly drunk. They invited me to sit in for a hand. I said I hadn't brought any money. They agreed it was alright if I played with my clothes. Of course, it meant strip poker. I went along with it trusting Shane if it got out of hand.

Four against one, and I was down to my bra, panties and heels in no time. The cards were not going my way. Next I lost my bra, then my thong was tossed on the floor. The cards were shoved aside when Shane came up to me with his cock teasing my lips. This was getting out of hand, but there was no one there to change the new game we were about to play.

While Shane filled my mouth, hands from strangers were rubbing my tits. Someone had his fingers between my legs trying to get them past my pussy lips. I was the center of attention, and I knew what was next.

A really strong guy picked me up and dropped me on the poker table. He immediately had his head between my legs. A second guy threw one leg over my body straddling my head that hung over the edge. I took his cock into my mouth and the party gangbang was on. One guy was sucking my clit; one was in my mouth; and I was stroking the other two.

I heard Shane say, "Boys, I've been waiting to do this for weeks," and he was the first to penetrate my pussy. He stabbed my cunt with one swift movement going balls deep all at once. Shane was all lust and urgency, hammering me with vigor, leaving a potent stream of semen inside me. When he finished, a second man followed for sloppy seconds, then a third and a fourth. They used me like a pin cushion. Each of them came in me at least once. Two of them twice. It was a free flowing river of cum flooding my insides.

I must have entered another world by then, a world of inner ecstasy. I had traveled from the land of reality to a space of desire when two guys climbed on for DP. They filled me with every sensual passionate feeling a woman could desire. I had been stroked like a well oiled four cylinder pistons engine.

I can't say if Shane had planned this orgy with me for his friends, but they seem to have come prepared. I was not totally upset. It would be disingenuous of me to say I didn't love all those hard cocks riding in me. I hadn't had a gangbang since my senior year in college when my boyfriend arranged a birthday present, six guys for me. At an early age, a boy's cum was the bonus I craved even when he was too quick to give me orgasms. An occasional gangbang was fun back then as it was now.

On the next patrol I asked, "What was that about your wife at poker night?"

"Oh, we rotate places each month. We were playing at my house and Ardith, my wife, took a liking to one of the guys. You can imagine what happened next."

"Yes, Shane, it doesn't take much imagination on my part. Did she like poker night with the guys?"

"I think so. She's talked about it a few times as if she wants the group back."

When is the next time?"

"Next month, I think."

"Too bad I won't be invited."

"Maybe some other month, Kendra. They love you. You are the hottest thing since the Maid of Orléans."

"Who's that?"

"Joan of Arc."

"Oh," is all I could say. Finally when I caught on, I couldn't stop laughing.

Shane and I continued to be friends with benefits even though he was now on days, and I had taken a desk job. He calls me his whore in a kidding but honest sort of way. I tell him I might he a whore, but have only one john. Our arrangement is not for love. It's entertainment, pleasure, and recreational sex. We enjoy each other's company and body. We screw one on one whenever his wife is out of town, which isn't often, so we go to my place except for once. On the week of his thirty-sixth birthday, I booked a hotel room in another city, paid for dinner and gave him special treatment including anal.

All that changed since my friend's wedding and the shooting. I was the maid of honor, met a guy and witnessed a murder. The killer was the best man at the weddomg and we shacked up for one night. Then things got interesting.

SEE EPISODES 1 and 2