Don Juan Jackson walked mightily through the State Correctional Institution Graterford gates. He carried nothing but humility and visions of a bright future. After a six year prison bid for some bullshit, angels sang around him, and welcomed him back to the real world. He planned to exact the revenge that he had long desired. Sadly, he looked back at the 15 feet concrete wall that surrounded the prison and sighed. Too bad I’ll be back, and probably on death row, he thought, and smiled. Yeah, I’ll definitely be back.
The night before his release, Don Juan had ripped up and trashed every letter, card, and picture from the dick-hungry-bitches that dropped him a line when he was knocking on the door to freedom. His mother didn’t name him Don Juan for naught. From the moment that he popped out the depths of her womb, she knew he would be a ladies man. God had not sent many chocolate coated babies with light brown eyes into the world to play the game. And Don Juan was an elite player with a new and improved set of rules. And all woman desired to play with him.
He was 6’2” and his bow legged gait was visible across the prison parking lot. He strode confidently down the handicap ramp. I’m back bitches, he thought. To fight the sinister winter wind his righthand man, Lex, had sent him a black mink baseball jacket, jeans, T-shirt, and black ski boots. All designer labels stolen for his pals debut back into the world. At the bottom of the ramp Lex stood there with a stupid grin on his face. He donned a diamond encrusted chain with a cross that fell over his belly button. A limousine was parked behind him.
“My nigga,” Lex said and gave Don Juan some dap and a hug. Lex was only 5’5”, Puerto Rican and Black, and had the heart of a giant.
From inside the cab of the limousine, Don Juan heard a chorus of females.
“Good lookin’ on the gear, my nigga. Them prison police gave me a check for three thousand that I had saved on my books. I gotta cash this bitch, and I can give you some bread back.”
“Fuck dat. I’m up on some new shit. I got two bad bitches in the limo. They both want a shot of some fresh out of jail dick,” Lex said, and pat his homey on his back.
“Good. Cause a nigga ready,” Don Juan said and walked toward the limousine. He hadn’t beat his dick in 90-days and was ready to fuck like a rock star.
Don Juan stuck his head into the limousine and saw his treats. One of them, a caramel babe with her hair pulled into a tight pony tail, and a truck load of ass hanging off the seat. She tapped the leather seat between her and an Asian woman. “You can sit right here, daddy. Welcome home,” she said and licked her lips.
Don Juan followed her command, and then the limousine pulled off. He settled in his seat and the two woman snuggled up next to him. The Asian one placed her right hand on his dick. He leaned in and kissed her ear before he whispered into it. “I always wanted to fuck an Asian,” he said over the Isley Brothers. In fact, while in prison, he vowed to fuck a woman from every race.
The Asian kissed Don Juan’s cheek, and left a cherry-red stain. “My father is black and my mother is Vietnamese. I have full dick sucking lips thanks to my father and a deep pussy thanks to my mother.” She bent over, and pulled up her form-fitting dress. She wasn’t wearing panties. “This is a size 44. All ass and hips.”
“Looks black to me,” Lex said, and winked at her.
“Exactly,” she said. “And my name is Roneeka. How much more black can you get? Don’t call me Asian.”
“Oh, names,” the woman with the ponytail said. “I’m Brooke. Let’s get you put of this jacket, Don Juan. What a fitting name for a man as fine as you,” she said and tossed his jacket on the chair beside them.
Don Juan’s biceps bulged from under his T-shirt. Roneeka touched him intimately all over his upper body. He immediately became erect.
“Fine and hard, Brooke,” Roneeka said, and then ran her hand up and down his dick. “What’s this about a hard nine?”
“Or so,” he replied and smiled. “What’s these 36D?” he asked and tickled her nipple.
“Double,” she said and smiled. “Or so. Who cares? Some man bought them.”
Six long years had passed and Don Juan could not wait for this experience. Just the scent of a woman had turned him on. Pretty or ugly, the fact that a female CO had a pussy had gotten him hard. It had been a difficult task to not masturbate those last three months, but he had had to get a grip if he wanted to please a woman upon his release. He had been pleasuring himself no less than twice a day, and sometimes up to five. He knew that some woman loved cum, so he cheated himself to be sure that he was so backed up that he’d shoot a gallon the moment a woman touched him. He had something in store for Brooke and Roneeka.
“I gotta ask this, and I mean well. What were you in prison for, Don Juan?”
“Come on, Brooke,” Lex said. “My man tryinna fuck, he ain’t tryinna talk. Tell her, Don Juan.”
“Hold on, Lex,” Don Juan said. He clapped his hands together and hung his head low. He could not believe why he was there, and hated the woman that helped land him there. “I’ve actually waited six long years to get a woman’s perspective on this. Let me get a shot of this Patron first, though, and then I’ll be your storyteller.”