The Prison Wife (Part Seven) It was a funny thing about prison. Somehow all those Murphy's Laws cliches were truer here than anywhere else. If anything can go wrong, it will and Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse and Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. This last one, in particular, seemed to haunt Joseph. The one thing Joseph had desperately wished for--night and day, every moment since he and Gus had first consummated their marriage--was for Gus to lose interest in having sex with him. It happened in most marriages, after all. Eventually, the novelty wore off, the thrill died down, and the couple settled into the regular routine of daily life. Joseph cherished a vision of their marriage in which he spent more time doing housework and less time on his back with his legs in the air. It was only a feeble hope at best, but still, he returned to the fantasy again and again, most often when he was squashed into the thin mattress of his bunk, half suffocating under Gus' weight, as his husband had sweaty, enthusiastic relations with him. When Joseph's cherished dream did finally come true, it happened completely out of the blue one night. It was after lights out, and Gus was having sex with him as usual. Joseph lay on his side, his leg pulled up to his chest. Gus was pressed against his back, his cock buried deep in Joseph's pussy. As always, Joseph kept up a litany of moans and whimpers and breathy little sighs in time to Gus' grunting thrusts. Gus seemed to be enjoying himself as much as usual, but then he abruptly pulled out of Joseph's body. At first, Joseph just waited, using the respite to catch his breath, expecting Gus to re-enter him and begin fucking once more. When that didn't happen, he glanced over his shoulder. "Uh, sir? Is there anything wrong?" "I'm bored," Gus said. "Sir?" "Bored. With this marriage. It's the same old thing night after night. I fuck you. You lay there and take it." He shrugged. "It's just not doing it for me anymore." For a moment, Joseph could not find his voice, could not say anything in response to Gus' complaint. He was far too taken aback. And too hurt, if he were completely honest with himself. It was surprising, really, how deeply Gus' matter-of-fact dismissal wounded him given all the times he'd longed for just such a turn of events. But now that it had happened, all his insecurities came rushing to the surface. What was wrong with him? Why didn't his husband want him anymore? Were his tits too small? Had he put on weight? And then with a stab of true terror, Joseph wondered what would happen to him if Gus dumped him. An image of Smitty and his hoodlum friends cornering him in the shower flashed across his mind in sickening technicolor. Joseph quickly turned onto his side toward Gus and reached for his fading erection. "I can make it good for you, sir," he said in his most seductive purr, as he started to stroke Gus' dick. But Gus just pushed his hand away impatiently. "Jerking me off isn't going to cut it," he snapped. Joseph had to blink back tears at his husband's harsh rejection. "Maybe I could--" He thought frantically. "Maybe I could suck you?" he said, trying not to grimace. "Really?" Gus said, brightening at the prospect. Joseph had always been squeamish about sucking Gus' dick after it had been inside him, and for whatever reason, Gus had never forced the issue. But now, he seemed pleased that Joseph had suggested it himself. His dick started to harden again. And Joseph began to see what the problem might be. Gus wanted him to take more initiative during sex. After all, hadn't Joseph often felt the same thing about Madeleine? Well, if it's initiative he wants, that's exactly what he'll get, Joseph thought to himself. "Please, sir, please. Please, let me suck you," Joseph begged, as if he were a little kid pleading for an extra helping of dessert. Gus smiled in that lewd, self-satisfied way of his, and for once, Joseph was relieved to see it. "So you want a taste of my meat bad enough that you don't care where it's been, huh, little girl?" Gus asked. "Oh, yes, sir! I want you in my mouth. Please!" "Oh, yeah," Gus moaned, his dick hard and throbbing once more. Joseph bent his head to Gus' groin, opened his mouth and tried not to gag. It's better than getting gang-fucked in the shower, Joseph told himself. But it really did taste awful, and knowing why it tasted so bad made him want to throw up. Still, his survival depended on it. So he closed his eyes and forced himself to make little yum-yum noises as he lapped at Gus' shit-covered dick. He pulled out all his best cocksucking tricks, using his tongue and lips and throat muscles to give Gus the time of his life. He had never been so pleased and so relieved to hear Gus' pig grunts of pleasure. What Joseph was doing might be disgusting, but at least, it was working. Gus fucked Joseph's mouth a good, long time. When he got close to coming, he pulled out, rolled Joseph onto his back, lifted his legs onto his shoulders and plunged into Joseph's pussy. "Fuck me!" Joseph begged, in his most orgasmic voice. "Please fuck me! Please!" Gus rode him fiercely, and Joseph met every thrust enthusiastically, bucking and grinding and moaning, trying to make the sex interesting for his husband. But then Gus pulled out abruptly, and Joseph felt a flash of panic until Gus pressed his dick to Joseph's lips. Joseph opened his mouth and started to suck again. It still tasted just as bad, but he forced his face into an expression of contented bliss as he lavished attention on Gus' dick. Gus went back and forth between Joseph's pussy and his mouth, his face red with exertion, his eyes glassy with lust. Whenever he seemed close to coming, he would pull out and switch to the other hole. To Joseph, the fucking seemed to go on forever. He realized he should probably be grateful for that. Clearly, Gus was no longer bored. But he couldn't help feeling incredibly used and dirty. When Gus finally climaxed, he pulled out of Joseph's mouth and came in his face, something he'd never done before. Joseph lay frozen, the sticky come matting his hair, running up his nose, dribbling from his chin. Gus levered himself up from the bunk and went to clean up at the basin. Silent tears trickled down Joseph's cheeks. There had always been a thin veneer of connubial pretense between them that had kept Joseph from feeling like a total whore. It was gone now. And Joseph had never felt filthier in his life. Gus turned back around. Joseph hurriedly wiped away his tears and smiled, trying to look like he was feeling the afterglow. "That wasn't half bad, Sunshine," Gus said. "Keep it up, and this marriage may just turn out okay after all." Joseph swallowed hard. "Thank you, sir," he said softly. Gus nodded and then climbed up to the top bunk. He settled down for the night, and soon Joseph could hear the snores of his deep, post-orgasmic sleep. Joseph lay awake, staring at the springs of Gus' mattress above him. He didn't know what to dread more: all the humiliating things he would have to do to keep Gus satisfied or what would happen to him if his husband wanted a divorce. Joseph thought that he had grown used to Gus' arbitrary ways, but in the ensuing weeks as he tried desperately to keep his husband happy, Gus proved even more difficult and unpredictable than Joseph had ever imagined. The thrill of sticking his dirty dick in Joseph's mouth soon wore off, and Joseph was forced to figure out other things he could do to titillate his husband. Up to this point, he had not even considered doing the exercises that Dr. Smith had suggested. But now he was desperate to try anything that might make sex better for Gus, so he started working to tighten up his pussy with a great deal of determination. The first time he tried squeezing Gus' dick with his pussy while they were having sex, Gus froze, grunting with surprise, his eyes going wide. "Do that again!" he ordered. Joseph quickly obeyed. "Mmm yeah!" Gus groaned. He started to fuck like some kind of demon unleashed. Joseph bit his lip and concentrated on working his pussy. "Fuck!" Gus called out, as Joseph milked the orgasm out of him. "Yeah!" He rolled off Joseph, panting, sweating running down his back. "Shit, that was good, Sunshine," he said. Joseph found himself smiling, a little shyly. His pussy burned from all the exertion which was truly disconcerting. But he couldn't help feeling pleased that he was able to turn his husband on so much. For several weeks after that, it was just like it had been at the beginning of their marriage. With all the exercising he did, Joseph's pussy was nearly as tight as it had been when he was still a virgin. Every time Gus fucked him, it was like losing his cherry all over again--extremely gratifying for Gus, excruciatingly painful for Joseph. But Joseph's pussy was once more Gus' favorite play toy, and that meant he was safe again, for a little while at least. He wasn't about to complain. Still, the novelty of this, too, eventually wore off, and Joseph was right back where he'd started, desperately searching for some way to hang on to his husband. It occurred to him that maybe it would help if he tried to think of it from a woman's point of view. He remembered one Saturday afternoon when he and Madeleine had been married about two years. She had gone out to run some errands, and Joseph stayed home. He was feeling restless and bored, and found himself wandering into their bedroom for no particular reason. As he was standing in the doorway, his eye fastened on his wife's bedside table. He'd never once thought to be curious about what she kept in its drawers, but suddenly, the need to know practically overwhelmed him. He tiptoed over to it, as if he were some kind of cat burglar, and perched on the edge of the bed. It felt strange and a little thrilling to be on Madeleine's side, almost as if it were some distant, unexplored territory. He slowly pulled open the top drawer and peered inside, holding his breath at what he might discover. Anticipation quickly gave way to disappointment. The drawer held nothing but the practical things women always liked to have around--nail files, a hairbrush, sewing kit, hand cream. Joseph pushed the drawer closed again and tried the other one with far less interest. But this time he hit the jackpot. Inside the drawer was a neat stack of books, some paperbacks, some hard covers, all a little worn and obviously well perused. There was Keep Your Man Coming Back for More and The Complete Guide to Foreplay and Make Love Like Newlyweds No Matter How Long You've Been Married. Joseph had no idea Madeleine was so concerned about such things, and he was completely intrigued. He pulled out the books and flipped through them, amazed by all the thought and effort women seemed to put into making themselves appealing to men. Now, as he struggled to hang on to his husband, he understood all too well and empathized with Madeleine. He wished he had found some way to reassure her that she didn't have to try so hard to please him. But at least, he could take a lesson from those books of hers. From what Joseph could figure, all the books seemed to come to the same conclusion: what a man really wanted was a woman who seemed to be constantly thinking about having sex with him. The smallest moment could be infused with erotic sensibility. The most mundane daily tasks could be transformed into XXX-worthy foreplay, if only the woman projected the appropriately seductive attitude. Joseph put his new knowledge into action and took every small opportunity he could find during the day to get Gus all whipped up for sex at night. He started unbuttoning the fourth button of his shirt, and whenever Gus was sitting down, he would lean over to ask if there was anything he could do for him, making sure Gus got a good view of his cleavage. He dropped things whenever he knew he had Gus' attention and made a big show of wiggling his ass when he bent over to pick them up. At breakfast, he ate his banana slowly and provocatively, practically making oral love to it, licking his lips seductively whenever he thought Gus might be watching. He even went braless on a couple of occasions, and every time he spotted Gus, he would trot over to join him, his titties bouncing and jiggling as he went. It worked like a charm for a week or two. Gus started showing up again during Joseph's laundry room detail and dragged him off for midday sex. He even fucked him a few times, something he'd never done outside their cell before. But like everything else Joseph had tried, the magic eventually waned, and no matter how much he pouted or batted his eyes or flaunted his body, Gus just didn't seem to notice. At the end of his rope, Joseph was forced to reconsider the possibility that had occasionally flitted through his thoughts, that he had always dismissed. One day after lunch, after Gus had already left for the rec room, he forced himself to gather his courage and approach Sergeant Murphy. "Excuse me, Sergeant?" he said, in his most respectful voice. "What is it, Carlton?" "Um, I was wondering if you could get me into see the warden?" Murphy regarded him suspiciously. "Why?" Joseph turned pink with embarrassment. "It's kind of-- well, personal. But it's important. I swear. Please!" The sergeant studied him and finally said, "I'll see what I can do." "I really need to--" "I said I'll see what I can do," Murphy said sharply. Joseph bowed his head. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Sergeant." His shoulders slumped as he walked away, convinced that Murphy was just putting him off. But the next day during his work detail, the sergeant appeared at the laundry room door and motioned to him. Joseph hurried over. "Let's go. The warden agreed to see you," Murphy told him. Joseph felt such intense relief he could barely contain it. "Thank you, Sergeant. Thank you so much," he gushed. "Yeah, well," Murphy said. "This is one-time only. Don't think I'm going to make a habit of it." "No, sir. I understand," Joseph said. But he could tell from the way Murphy was looking at him that he was concerned. He probably thought Joseph was going to beg the warden for help with Gus. And he was-- in a roundabout way. Joseph followed Sergeant Murphy to the warden's office. As before, he took a seat while the warden's secretary intercommed her boss. "You can go right in," she told him. "Thank you," Joseph said, nervously rising to his feet. "I'll wait out here," Murphy said gravely. Joseph nodded. He knocked at the door to the office, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Warden Peters was writing a note at his desk, and Joseph hesitated by the door, awkwardly shifting his weight from one leg to the other, waiting for the warden to acknowledge him. Finally, the warden laid down his pen and looked up. "Okay, Joanne. Have a seat. And tell me what I can do for you." Joseph perched on the edge of the chair opposite the warden's desk. He twisted his hands in his lap and nervously cleared his throat. "Uh, yes sir," he said. "Thank you for seeing me. I wanted to talk to you, because I'd really like to see if-- I was kind of hoping that maybe--" "Yes, yes, Joanne," the warden said, impatiently. "Just spit it out." "Would it be possible for me to get some women's clothes?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. Warden Peters leaned back in his chair and looked at Joseph speculatively. "I have to admit that wasn't what I was expecting, Joanne. I mean, it's only a month or so until you're released. You've gone all this time without dressing as a woman. Why start now? Surely you can wait a few more weeks. And then you can wear whatever you want." "I, uh--" Joseph mumbled. "I'm just really eager to-- you know--" He stared at his hands in his lap. "Explore my femininity." "Hmm," the warden said. "And what does your husband think of all this?" "Um, well--" Joseph said, floundering. "He doesn't know about it." The warden arched an eyebrow. "Really? And why is that? I was under the impression your husband exerted a great deal of control over you. You haven't taken to doing things behind his back, have you?" "Oh no, sir!" Joseph said, flustered. "Of course not. I just want it to be a surprise. That's all." "Ah," the warden said. "So you want to make yourself more feminine for him. Is that it?" "Yes, sir," Joseph said, quietly. "Why is that, Joanne?" Joseph squirmed in his seat. "I'm his wife, sir." "Don't be evasive with me, Joanne. I want a straight answer." Joseph could feel his lip start to tremble, suddenly close to tears. Perhaps it would be easier simply to admit to the warden exactly what the situation was, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell anyone that his husband no longer found him desirable. It was too painful and too humiliating. But somehow the warden seemed to have guessed without being told. He leaned forward in his chair, watching Joseph closely, a strange gleam in his eye. "You know what I think?" he said. "I think your husband's eye is starting to wander. Hmm, Joanne? Is that why you want new clothes? To try to hang on to him." Joseph was too emotional to answer. He sat there silently, miserably. The warden got up and came around the desk to stand next to him. Joseph's eyes bugged out when he saw the hard-on swelling the front of the man's pants. He tried not to stare at it, tried not to pay any attention, but the warden pressed close to his chair, putting his erection at Joseph's eye level, right next to his face. He tilted Joseph's chin to make him look at him. "Is that it, Joanne? Are you afraid of losing your husband?" Joseph nodded. He could feel the hot tears threatening to fall. "I can just imagine what would happen to a pretty girl like you out on the cellblock with no husband to protect her. I bet you think about that all the time, don't you, Joanne?" "Please help me," Joseph begged. "I want to, Joanne. I do. But you have to help me first. Can you do that? Can you do something special for me, Joanne?" Joseph swallowed hard. "I'll do anything, sir," he said, his voice sticking in his throat. "Show me your tits," the warden demanded, his voice changing abruptly, no longer cool and professional. "Yes, sir." Joseph's hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt. He could feel the warden's gaze riveted on his chest, and he blushed deeply. He pulled his shirt open and unhooked his bra. His breasts sprang free, and the coolness from the air conditioner caused his nipples to harden, much to his shame. "Oh, yeah," the warden said. "Such pretty, pretty titties. I can't tell you how often I've thought about them, Joanne. How I've been dying to touch them again." The warden fondled Joseph's breasts and pinched his nipples. He rubbed his chino-covered erection against Joseph's cheek. "Come on, Joanne. You know what to do." Joseph numbly obeyed. It was a surreal experience, to open the warden's pants, take out his dick, stroke it to full hardness in his hand. Joseph felt oddly detached, as if it were someone else fondling the warden's balls, licking at the head of his dick, taking the dick into his mouth, as if Joseph were simply watching some other pathetic loser prostitute himself for women's clothes. The warden was not nearly as big as Gus, so Joseph had a pretty easy time blowing him. Plus, it seemed that the man really hadn't been kidding about his wife never having sex with him. Every little flicker of Joseph's tongue made him moan out loud. Every time he massaged the head of the dick with his throat, the warden's eyes went wide, and he started to gasp as if he were about to have a seizure. Even when he neared climax and started to fuck Joseph's face in earnest, it was nothing compared to the kind of frenzy Gus always went into. When the warden finally came, Joseph gulped down his semen, milking the dick for every last drop the way Gus had taught him. The warden's chest heaved, and his face had turned dark red. Clearly, he was not used to such skillful cocksucking. Joseph carefully licked the warden clean just as he always did for Gus, and then pulled back. "Was that okay, sir?" he asked, softly. The warden was so lost in the aftershock of his orgasm that he seemed genuinely surprised Joseph was still there. And then he looked embarrassed. He hurriedly tucked his cock back into his pants and zipped up. "Uh, yes. That was just fine, Joanne." He cleared his throat, his demeanor once more business-like. "You can go now. Expect a delivery later this afternoon." Joseph nodded silently. He hastily refastened his bra, buttoned his shirt, got to his feet and hurried out the door. He carefully wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to make sure there was no telltale evidence to tip off Sergeant Murphy. The sergeant was waiting for him when he returned to the reception area. "Did you get everything worked out?" he asked. Joseph nodded mutely. He tried as hard as he could not to betray anything, not to turn red, or appear agitated, but he could feel the weight of Sergeant Murphy's scrutiny boring into him. Somehow, Joseph got the feeling that Sergeant Murphy knew exactly what he'd just done in the warden's office. It was impossible not to blush at the prospect. The sergeant shifted his weight awkwardly. "All right then, Carlton. Let's go. We're through here." "Yes, sir," Joseph said obediently, careful not to make eye contact. He kept his head down as he followed Murphy back to the cellblock. Now that the desperation of the moment had passed, he couldn't believe what he'd done. Since he'd come to prison, he had crossed every line that straight men meticulously observed. He had long hair and wore makeup, had breasts and a husband. But even though Gus used his mouth and pussy completely at will, there had always been some small comfort in knowing that it was only one man and that Joseph clearly had no choice. If he didn't let Gus bang him, then the rest of the cellblock would. But today-- Today, Joseph had chosen to use sex to get what he wanted. When he first thought of asking the warden to help him, he had known what the trade off would be. And he'd gone to the warden's office anyway. He felt like a whore, with the taste of a stranger's semen in his mouth, not his husband, not someone he cared about like Carlos, just someone he needed something from. Hell, he was a whore. And there wasn't even any guarantee that the warden would honor the bargain. He could easily decide just to forget it. And Joseph wouldn't be able to do a damned thing about it. He'd be right back where he started, only with yet another shameful memory, one more thing he'd have to hide from Madeleine when he finally got out. By the time they reached his cell, Joseph had worked himself into a near panic. "Okay, Carlton. Here you go." Joseph's mouth was dry with fear, but he made himself say, "Thank you, Sergeant." Murphy nodded. He turned to go, but then turned back. "Look, Carlton, if there's some problem, if something's happened--" Joseph shook head. "No. Nothing's wrong. Really, Sergeant." For a moment, Murphy hesitated, as if deciding whether he should press for information, but them he finally just nodded. "All right, Carlton. Have it your way," he said and walked off. Joseph let out his breath in relief and sank onto his bunk. He held his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He only had a month left before he was released, but he could tell it was going to be the longest thirty days of his life. He sat there for quite a while feeling sorry for himself. When he did finally look up, Brewster, another one of the COs, was standing in his cell door, package in hand. "Hey, Princess, this came for you." Joseph rose to his feet, a light feeling of hope suddenly swelling in his chest. The officer handed him the plain brown paper package. "For me?" he asked, holding the parcel in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. The CO rolled his eyes. "No, it's for some other con. I just enjoy your company so much I thought I'd stop by to say hello." Joseph blushed. "Sorry, sir. Thank you for bringing it to me." The officer smirked sarcastically. "Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Princess." He walked away laughing. But Joseph paid no attention. He sat down on his bunk and tore into the package. Inside, he found just what he'd hoped for, the secret to hanging onto his husband. He took out each item and laid it on his bed, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles. At any other point in his life, wearing a skirt would have been completely unthinkable. He wouldn't even have done it for Halloween. But now, he was more grateful to have these clothes than he ever could have expressed. The warden's taste in clothes tended toward the sluttish and the obvious. There was a pair of black stilettos with pointy toes and heels so high Joseph didn't know how he'd ever walk in them. The skirts the warden had sent were knit micros--one black, one red--that would cling to Joseph's hips and ass like a second skin. He'd also included several blouses, all of which were plunging and rather see-through, and a few very tiny little T-shirts that looked like they would fit a toddler. Joseph blushed at the prospect of wearing any of these tops, leaving his tits half hanging out and his nipples poking through the fabric. The other cons were already like salivating animals whenever he was around. He couldn't imagine how much worse they'd be when he started dressing like a streetwalker. But he really didn't have much of a choice. If he didn't do something to get Gus' attention, he'd have a lot more to deal with than just intrusive leers and unpleasant catcalls. Joseph kept out the heels, the black skirt and a white T-shirt that looked like it was at least a little bigger than the others. The rest of the clothes he meticulously folded and put away. Then he stripped out of his uniform, changed into his sexiest lingerie, a white push-up bra and tiny white lace panties, as well as a garter belt and sheer black stockings. He pulled on the skirt and T-shirt. When he saw how the shirt showed off his cleavage, he lost a little of his nerve. He hastily grabbed the top to his uniform, slipped it on and knotted it at his waist as a compromise. Then he stepped into the heels and practiced walking around the cell. He teetered a little at first, but after a few turns around the small space, he mostly had the hang of it. He stopped and appraised himself in the mirror. He was surprised to find just what an attractive woman he made. His legs were long and shapely, his hips curvaceous, his ass round and lush, his waist tiny, his breasts pert, his hair long and lustrous. Without thinking, he pirouetted in front of the mirror, admiring his own beauty with a sense of wonder. But then he realized what he was doing, what he was thinking, and he stopped abruptly, his facing turning red, deeply ashamed. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this! Joseph collected himself. He straightened his back, pulled himself up to his full height, pushed his shoulders back, and lifted his chin. Of course, he wasn't enjoying it. He was just glad because Gus would be pleased, and that was what mattered. He headed out to the cafeteria, to meet Gus for lunch and surprise him with his new look. Everyone he passed stopped in their tracks and stared at him. He tried to ignore it, but it was terribly unnerving. His skirt kept riding up in back, and he had to keep pulling it down to keep from flashing the perverts a glimpse of his panties. A complete hush fell over the cafeteria when Joseph entered. The attention of every con in the room--every murderer, every rapist, every thug--focused on him as if he were wearing a target. But he did his best to pay no attention, to keep his shoulders back and his head held high. He sauntered over to Gus at the head of the line, using the slinky walk he'd been practicing, rolling his hips and wiggling his ass. Gus watched him approach with his mouth hanging open, which gave Joseph a strange sense of triumph. "Sunshine," he said, sounding rather dumbstruck. "Sir," Joseph answered as nonchalantly as he could, taking his place at Gus' side, trying to act as if nothing were different. This was another little snippet of wisdom he remembered from his furtive perusal of Madeleine's books: "Don't look like you're trying to hard. Desperation is never attractive." Joseph went through the line and then followed Gus to their table. When he sat down, all of Gus' buddies looked up from their lunches and stared at him as if they'd never seen anyone in a skirt before. Joseph did his best to ignore them. He pulled Gus' tray over to his, dished half his meal onto Gus' plate as he always did, scooted the tray back over to Gus, and then began to pick at his own food in a dainty, ladylike fashion. He had found that if he took small bites and chewed very slowly he could get away with eating only a small portion by the time everyone else was finished. It was one of the little tricks he'd learned to help him watch his figure, and that certainly had never been more important than it was now. Gus and everyone else at the table continued to gawk at him the whole time they were eating. When lunch was over, Gus grabbed Joseph by the wrist and quickly whisked him away to their spot beneath the back stairs. Gus' stride was much longer than Joseph's, and he practically had to run the whole way to keep up with him. Before he could even catch his breath, Gus was unbuttoning his shirt, yanking up his T-shirt, unhooking his bra, and fondling his breasts. "Oh, yeah," Gus groaned as he kneaded Joseph's tits. Then he whirled Joseph around and made him bend over. Joseph held onto the railing of the stairs to keep his balance. Gus shoved his skirt up to his waist and pushed his dainty little panties out of the way. It had been several days since Gus had last touched him, and the roughness of his entry made Joseph gasp out loud. For once, though, he was grateful for the burning pain of penetration. His husband's dick was finally back where it belonged, in his pussy. His marriage was back on solid ground, for a little while at least. "Oh, yeah. God," Joseph panted, performing his usual porn film dialogue. "Fuck that pussy, sir. Fuck that pussy hard!" Joseph closed his eyes and concentrated on working his internal muscles to give his husband as much pleasure as possible. But a sudden noise startled him, and his eyes flew open. A handful of men were gathered along the far wall, watching Gus fuck him, massaging their own dicks through their pants. Joseph turned red with shame. No one had ever watched him get fucked before. He was suddenly painfully self-conscious about how he must look. His titties were hanging out, bouncing wildly with Gus' thrusts. His skirt was bunched up around his waist. "Uh, sir?" Joseph said, quietly. "Yeah?" Gus said, in a labored voice. Joseph motioned with his head toward their audience. He expected Gus to yell some threatening obscenity at them. Instead, Joseph felt him get harder inside him, and then he started to thrust more urgently. Joseph was stunned. Gus seemed to be getting off on the fact that they were being watched. His whole body went numb with a sense of shock. He kept thinking over and over: But it's not supposed to be this way! They were supposed to be husband and wife. Marriage was supposed to mean something. But no matter how hurt he was, he still had a job to do. He worked his muscles even harder, pushing back against each thrust, grinding his hips. "Fuck that pussy, sir!" he chanted. "Give me your hot man come! I want your come so bad, sir! Please! Give it to me! Give it to me!" Gus dug his fingers into Joseph's hips, lunged wildly, and finally climaxed in great hot spurts in Joseph's pussy. Gus caught his breath and then pulled out with a loud, squelchy pop. The men who had been watching sniggered lewdly, and Joseph felt his face turn even hotter. Some of the guys sported wet spots on the front of their pants where they had come, which only deepened Joseph's sense of shame. Thankfully, the other cons did still fear Gus, and they quickly scattered, like cockroaches. Joseph tried to rearrange himself the best he could. He had never been so glad for the new command he had over his pussy muscles. At least, he was able to keep Gus' come from pouring out of him and dripping down his legs. Gus clapped him on back. "I've got to give you credit, Sunshine. You're the best woman I ever had, inside of prison or out. Keep it up, and you and me are gonna be happily married until the day they let you out of here." Gus laughed and shambled off toward the rec room, swaggering even more than usual. Joseph felt a complicated tangle of emotions. On the one hand, it was strangely gratifying to be able to please his husband. On the other, he had never felt so sordid in his life. He had to wonder just how low he would have to stoop before he finally made it out of this place. How much more humiliation could he possibly take? The answer to this question became painfully clear over his last few weeks in prison. There was going to be much, much more humiliation to endure before he was finished. The problem of keeping Gus interested did not grow any easier. After a few days, just dressing in a skirt wasn't enough anymore. So he started wearing progressively skimpier tops, and that did the trick for a while. But soon enough, Gus was once again bored, and Joseph had to improvise. He did everything he could think of to get Gus' attention. He would bend over any time he knew Gus was watching and give his husband a view up his skirt. He went braless, letting his titties jiggle and bounce all over the place, his nipples painfully obvious beneath the thin fabric of his ultra-tight T-shirts. He even resorted one afternoon to whispering in Gus' ear that he wasn't wearing any panties and was rewarded with a whirlwind trip to the back stairwell. Unfortunately, the thing that really seemed to get Gus going was the voyeurism of the other inmates. Joseph had never fully appreciated the small ways in which Gus had always shown restraint in their marriage--finding a private place for Joseph to give him head during the day, waiting until it was dark before fucking his pussy at night--until they were gone. Now that Gus had the warden and doctor's tacit approval for their marriage, he seemed to feel like he could get away with anything. He started to have sex with Joseph in their cell before lights out, while all the neighboring inmates watched. He liked Joseph to wear his heels while he fucked him, and Joseph could only imagine the picture he made, splayed on his back, his thighs spread wide open, his stiletto-heeled feet hooked over Gus' shoulders, while Gus plundered his pussy. Joseph would hear the gasping and moaning of the other inmates as they jerked off to the sight of him taking Gus' horse dick, and he would die a little inside with every sound. The worst part was that he knew it was only going to get worse. And, sure enough, he was right. One evening as Joseph was getting undressed for sex, Gus gave him the appraising he'd learned to dread. "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked. Gus shrugged. "Nah. I mean, if that's the way you want to do it--" He shrugged again. "I guess that's fine." Joseph frowned in confusion. "Do what, sir?" "Undress for me." Joseph froze. His heart started to beat wildly. "Sir?" "I mean, you could make it interesting," Gus said. "It might help me get into it more." "Interesting, sir?" he said. "Yep. You know--" Gus waved his hand in the air. "Interesting." Joseph looked down at the floor in resignation. He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he said. "I can do that. I can do anything you want." Gus smiled that gloating smile of his and sat down on the bunk to watch. Joseph felt an unexpected and dangerous flare of rage. He really did hate Gus for taking so much pleasure in his debasement. But he forced himself to push down all those feelings. He tried to make his mind as blank as possible so he could get through what he had to do. He shut his eyes, and his body started to sway. He found himself unconsciously mimicking the moves of the dancers at the tittie clubs where he used to take his clients. He ran his hands all over his body and swiveled his hips and wiggled his ass. Across the way, he could voices saying: "Fuck! Look at that" and "Oh, my God! She's dancing for him." Joseph tried to tune out the voices and concentrate on the movement of his body. He danced for as long as he could, until he felt Gus growing restless. Then he started to undress, slowly, teasingly stripping off his clothing piece by piece. When he was wearing only his lingerie, he focused his attention on his breasts, running his fingers over the sheer, silky fabric of his bra, staring down at his boobs as if he'd never seen anything so fascinating in his whole life, the way all good porn queens did. Every con in the adjoining cells was pressed against the bars, eyes riveted on Joseph's gyrating form. Joseph felt the hot prickle of shame all over his body, but he didn't dare stop. This was what Gus wanted. And if Gus didn't get what he wanted, then Joseph wouldn't have any protection. So he licked his lips and focused on what he was doing. He teasingly traced his fingertips along the edge of his bra cups, just barely brushing his soft flesh. Then he cupped his tits and lifted them and let his head fall back in mock ecstasy. The men watching him all stared with moronic expressions on their faces, their mouths gaping at the sight of Joseph playing with his own boobs, their hard-ons clearly outlined in their pants. Joseph drew out the tease as long as he dared. He really didn't want to take his bra off in front of so many horny men. It made him feel terribly vulnerable. But finally, Gus gave him a warning look, and Joseph swallowed hard, knowing the inevitable was at hand. He flicked open the hooks, pulled off his bra with a flourish and let his tits spring free, bouncing up and down as he moved. It was difficult to pretend no one was watching when there were so many eyes glued to him and the men were all murmuring things like "Shake those titties, honey!" and "Show us your ass!" and "Come on, man, just fuck that pussy already." But for whatever reason, that was the way porn always worked, at least all the porn Joseph had ever seen. The woman was supposed to appear to be so totally absorbed in playing with herself that she didn't notice anything else. And in this case-- well, Joseph was the woman. So he stroked and fondled and caressed his breasts as if he were the only person on the entire planet and this was the only thing he ever wanted to do. "That's enough," Gus finally ordered. His pants were open and his enormous erection was out. He was breathing heavily with arousal. He grabbed Joseph by the wrist and yanked him over to him. He took Joseph's hips in his hands and maneuvered his body so that Joseph was straddling his legs, his pussy positioned over Gus' dick. "Made it convincing, Sunshine," Gus said quietly, his mouth against Joseph's ear. "Yes, sir," Joseph whispered. It was odd how much it pained Joseph that they weren't even bothering with the pretense of a respectable marriage anymore. But Gus was the one who called the shots, and there was nothing to do but go along. So Joseph took a deep breath, tried to relax, and then enthusiastically impaled himself on Gus' dick, like a good little nymphomaniac. It took him a moment to adjust to the searing sensation of being filled, and then he started to move up and down, fucking himself on his husband's huge cock. "Ah, yeah!" he moaned, in his best imitation of passion. "That cock feels so good in my pussy. Give me more of that cock. God, I need that cock!" "Harder!" Gus hissed. Joseph picked up the pace, riding his dick more vigorously, taking it deep inside him. His tits bounced crazily, and he reached for them, to keep them still. But Gus said, "Don't." So he didn't. He closed his eyes and fucked himself hard on his husband's dick and tried not to think about what he looked like to the men watching from the neighboring cells. But it was hard to tune them out when he could hear the flesh-against-flesh sound of their hands on their dicks, when he could hear the comments they made under their breath. "God, look at those titties fly," one of them said. "Look how hard she's riding him," another said. "That bitch just can't get fucked enough." Joseph could feel Gus' dick swelling inside him. He was getting close, so Joseph accelerated his pleasure noises. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" he cried, scrunching up his face in an appropriately orgasmic expression. "Give it to me. Give it to me. God, fuck me! Fuck me!" And then he felt Gus' semen filling him up, and it was time for his own faked climax. "I'm coming!" he gasped. "Oh, God! I'm coming! Unh! Unh! Unh! Ooooooh!" He slumped backwards as if spent from passion. Gus' breath was hot against his back as he recovered from his orgasm. His cock was still buried in Joseph's body, preventing him from moving. Finally, he softened enough for Joseph to pull himself free. He got to his feet, his legs shaking from all the exertion. His pussy was more sore than he could remember. This position made the penetration even deeper than usual. He could only hope that Gus wouldn't want to do it that way again any time soon. Gus got up and washed at the basin. Joseph pulled a Kleenex out of the box he kept by his cot and tried to wipe away the come trickling from his pussy as unobtrusively as he could. But it seemed the animals had had enough of a show. They were all getting ready for lights out, not paying any attention to him anymore. When Gus was finished at the sink, Joseph took a turn washing himself. He put on a clean pair of panties and a camisole to sleep in. As he bent over to lay back his covers, Gus pressed against him, caressing his ass. "That was real nice, Sunshine," he said. "We'll have to do that a lot more often." Joseph swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." Gus turned him around and frenched him sloppily. It had been forever since his husband had kissed him, and Joseph found himself leaning into it, enjoying the kiss, despite the excessive spit and the aggressiveness of Gus' tongue. Gus pulled back and smiled. "I can't wait until next time." He laughed and vaulted up to the top bunk. Joseph crawled into bed and pulled the blankets all the way up to his chin. He could already tell that the last few weeks of prison were going to be the longest days of his life. Prison Wife continued in Part Eight. Back to the main story page. Want to send me feedback? Please enter your email address (if you'd like me to reply): Please enter your name (if you want to): So what did you think of my story?