Evander’s therapy sessions, after being treated for cancer in prison.
Based on posts by black wizvrd. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Checking Evander’s Glands
I woke up to my guard banging on my cell door with complete disregard to me sleeping.
"C’mon man; you know I don't care about that weak ass breakfast you're serving." I said in response.
Completely pissed off from the disruption of my sleep I turned over on my uncomfortable cot and tried to fall back asleep.
I had been spending the past 6 months in the Big Springs Federal prison infirmary, because I was in remission from lymphoma cancer and I was looking forward to going back to general population confinement. At least in general population I wasn't being woken up every 3 hours during the night to check my vitals, and asked if I’m getting any sleep?I went ahead and got up to eat a pile of half-cooked, unsweetened oatmeal. I sat on the plastic chair and pulled the little roller cart up to me. The oatmeal was totally disgusting, but I had skipped breakfast the past few days and realized it's best I ate something.
Soon after I finished eating, a nurse wheeled a blood pressure machine into my cell.
"Hi; I’m Tawana. How you feeling this morning?" She said as she unraveled the blood pressure cuff to put on my arm.
"Ready to get the fuck out of here." I said sharply as I attempted to relax as the blood pressure cuff tightened.
"Don't worry. I'll be quick." The nurse told me after recording my blood pressure. "After I do a final physical, it'll be no longer than an hour and we will get you out of here." She said while removing the cuff from around my arm.
To my surprise I must've not heard her speaking to me because she repeated herself again. I was too busy looking at her ass once I got comfortable with how tight the inflatable cuff gripped my arm.
She was half decent in the face but she had an outstanding ass on her. I had seen her walking around the infirmary with the other nurses but this was our first interaction.
"Did you not hear me?" She said snapping me back to reality.
"What now?" I said as our eyes met.
"You'll need to lay on your cot." She said sounding somewhat impatient with me.
I got up and laid back on my cot as she approached my side. She gently felt for lymph gland swelling, around my neck and collarbone. "Look to the left." She said guiding my head in that direction as she continued pressing into my lower neck and collarbone in search of inflamed lymph nodes.
This was a routine I had become familiar with as I had been under their care for 6 months at that point. After being in county jail for 1 year and prison for 11 years, smoking jail house tobacco had caught up to me and I was being treated for cancer in prison.
Sucks to suck, but good thing it was only stage 1 lymphoma. Treatment for stage 1 cancer is relatively minuscule compared to stage 3 or 4, I imagine.
"Go on and pull your pants down for me." She said catching me off guard.
"My pants?" I questioned her. Although I was familiar with the process, I still hadn't quite wrapped my mind around how this was even a thing.
"Your boxers too." She said as she turned her back to me to put a pair of rubber gloves on.
Of course, as she turned away briefly I took my opportunity to get a good look at her African bubble ass. After all the time I've done, it's like I developed a radar for when women working at the prison bent over or turned around and I always made sure to get a good look of their ass. It didn't matter if it was flat or plump, confinement had turned me into an ultimate pervert.
She had a literal bubble butt. I could swear if I gripped it, it would pop.
After lifting my hips, I nudged my boxers down to my knees and I nestled back into my metal cot; my hands instinctively cupping my stiffening jewels. She turned back towards me and immediately began pressing her hands into the crevices of my crotch like clockwork.
I naturally resisted the pressure of her hand, pushing my hand off my crotch. I'm not sure why I had it covered up, it's just natural.
"You act like you have not done this before?" She said continuing. "Move your hand, this is a full physical of your pelvis." She said as I complied. “ Your neck area, and your crotch, are the two areas where lymphoma is our biggest concern. I have to confirm every gland is in the normal range.”
The experience began to make me horny as you can imagine. After getting a few looks of her ass in her scrubs, any man would be aroused. She was now bent over, and the vee neck of her scrubs was loose enough to show me lots of pendulous swaying tits.
I watched her hand hesitate and I looked up at her, sensing something wasn't right. I watched her eyes inspect me as she paused. I followed her eyes into my lap as a natural reflex and realized I was hard. Defined, veiny, rock hardness.
"I'm sorry I'm just a little nervous." I said as I watched her eyes cut to the wall. She awkwardly laughed a little and blushed. It was probably the first time I had seen a woman of her ebony complexion blush. It's not like her face turned red, her brown skin wouldn't allow for that.
"It's alright, that's completely natural." She said as her eyes made their way back to my crotch. She continued feeling within my pubic hair surrounding my cock.
Moment after moment, more sexual tension grew in between us and I became confident.
"It's definitely natural, not every morning do I have a nurse with a nice ass giving me a handjob.
The corner of her lip smirked a bit as she took her time assessing my groin. “Are there any areas of swelling or tenderness you’re aware of, Evander?”
“I have two noticeable lumps hanging under my cock. You might want to examine them thoroughly, Ma’am?”
She licked her lips and sighed. I could feel what seemed like her wedding ring through her plastic glove.
"You wish; I was giving you a handjob." She said as a drop of precum formed on the head of my penis.
She watched the precum roll down my shaft, as she shifted gears feeling underneath my ball sack.
"Um.. I'm gonna.." She started to say, just as I cut her off.
"You're going to give me a handjob." I said looking at her.
She squeezed hard on one of my big balls.
I flinched. “Ah!” I bellowed out.
"I'm married." She said, continuing to hover over me as she continued rubbing around my balls. Her eyes rolled to the side as if she were thinking continuing to feel around my sack for any signs of inflammation.
"So you'd give me a handjob if you weren't married?" I asked her just after sighing to her touch. It felt like she was giving my groin a deep tissue massage the way she ran her fingertips softly and deeply into my skin. “Very few women have access to a cock this big and full. I suspect you’ll wish you’d availed yourself of this offer?”
She looked away and I could sense she was about finished. Just as she began easing up on pressing into my flesh, I gently palmed the back of her hand and guided it around my penis. She hardly even resisted and she quite naturally clasped her hand around my dick.
As she resisted even less, our hands were in sync as we both masturbated my cock for a few seconds. I let go of her hand and she continued stroking me. Besides the couple times she cut her eyes away earlier in the physical, she hadn't broke her stare at my penis. She seemed in a trance.
Totally in the moment, she knelt to the side of my cot and continued giving me a handjob. Her fingers couldn't even wrap around it entirely as she gave me a reverent, adoring hand-job.
I gave her a head nod when she finally looked at me, and she leaned in knowing what I meant. I could feel her energy as her head got closer to my penis tip. Gripping the base of my cock, she pressed the head of my penis between her juicy lips, then flicking her tongue under my glans. She must have had taste for cock this morning, because I could feel just how much her mouth was salivating as her warm mouth sucked me off.
Plenty of silence passed as she sucked my dick, until she eventually released my dick from her mouth.
My left hand was already down her scrub pants palming her soft ass. My right hand was up her scrub blouse, stroking both her pendulous big tits. Moving my left hand in front, I slid under her panties. I found her pussy wet as ever. She got back to sucking my dick as I fingered her nub, then slid one, no two fingers inside her hot cunt.
"You're wet as hell." I said as I fingered her. All she could do was nod and close her eyes as she traced my shaft up and down with her lips.
I made some room for her on my cot as she made her way up onto it, straddling my hips. She kept a hold of my dick as I pulled her pants down her plump ass and nudged her panties out of the way.
She leaned forward some as she guided my dick into parting her rather thick pussy lips. I wrapped my arm around her waist and she sunk down swallowing my full shaft.
Her ever-so-tight pussy contracted immediately just before opening up and I pumped into it, slow and deep. She leaned forward more, offering more of her pussy to me as I began trying to pound up into her, as silent as possible.
Once I had quietly pounded her a while, I covered her mouth with my hand and started drilling her.
She moaned into my hand as I worked her pussy long and hard. I could swear I felt her pussy tingle and quiver just before she began to cream. There was a faint echo of her cum squishing in between our skin as my hips met her ass.
She started quivering, her whole body was in some sort of seizure-like state.
I stopped, then scooted up and slipped off the cot. I knelt behind her and pressed her onto her chest and her face into my pillow. On top of her I adjusted her panties just below the cuff of her ass. Her ass looked marvelous standing proud and inviting my plunder.
Once I positioned my dick in line with her soaked pussy. I slammed into her and immediately began pile driving her ass like a jack hammer.
My pillow muffled her moans well enough, but at that point, the way I was pounding her, created an echo in my cell.
Each time I stabbed her wet pussy, a fap would echo and the continuous rhythm created a unique sound. She feverishly moaned into my pillow as I put all of my weight on her hips, pinning her to the cot. She arched her back and opened up more and more as I drilled her cervix. The more I pounded her, the more she opened up, arching her back deeper, angling her ass higher for me. I gave her the fucking she deserved. I couldn't take my eyes off of how it looked, hammering her, each ripple across her ass cheek imprinted on my mind.
I knew I had beat her pussy into submission when she completely relaxed. Cum raced out of my penis and eventually flooded her pussy with my cum. I could feel my cum coated balls kissing her pussy lips at the end of every stroke.
Between the claps somehow we both heard keys jiggling down the hallway accompanied with steps. We both scrambled to gain our composure. I rolled off of her and she was on her feet within a split second. She frantically pulled her pants back over her ass and adjusted her hair as a guard unlocked my cell door and opened it.
"Everything alright in here Mariah?" The guard questioned her.
"Yeah, um.. I just wrapped up his physical. I just need to get vitals and I'll be off." She said sounding a bit out of breath as she pulled her gloves off and tossed them into the trash.
There was an awkward silence that made the experience even more erotic for me. It was like her husband had just walked in after his friend finished clapping her cheeks. Somehow it felt like he knew I had just fucked her. He probably smelled our combined juices and knew it was a fuck scene.
"Alright." The guard said as he seemed to look up the walls and ceiling, sniffing once more..
He and I made eye contact as he paused briefly. His eyebrows were scrunched together as if he were trying to figure something out. Tawana may have been a woman he also desired to fuck the hell out of?
I broke eye contact as I looked at the back of the nurses scrub pants. In between her thighs there was a damp spot.
The guard finally stepped out of my cell and left the door open. I sat up off the cot, looking at the nurse up and down from the back, as she eventually turned around. Her hand seemed to shake as she fumbled with the blood pressure machine wheeling it over to me. As the guard footsteps faded into nothingness she was wrapping the cuff around my arm.
"You must haven't gotten fucked like that in a long time." I said watching her nervously fidget with the Velcro on the cuff.
Her hand was shaking so much she couldn't get the Velcro undone.
"Don't; talk to me like that. I'm; married." She said stuttering.
"Yeah, you're married and I just fucked the shit out of you." I said as she gave up undoing the cuff.
"I; could've gotten fired." She said, avoiding eye contact with me.
She continued after taking a deep breath. "I, I don't know what just happened." She said, sounding disappointed.
"Don't worry; it's natural. You're made to get fucked. You can't think you're going to walk in here with a divine bubble ass like that without getting pounded on." I said looking at her, up and down.
Her nipples were pressing through her scrubs and she finally smiled, pulling her long curly hair into a ponytail. She found herself back in front of me after taking a few deep breaths and adjusted the cuff.
"Don't think you're going to ever get a chance like that again." She said, smiling as she started the machine.
"You'll be back for more. Your husband obviously isn't fucking you like you deserve." I said finally receiving eye contact from her as she blushed.
"For the record, your lymph glands appear to be cancer-free and.." She said as she paused.
"And?" I said awaiting her to finish.
"And you're right. Your dick is a lot bigger than his as well." She said while recording my results. At least I have my ‘big black cock’ fantasy off my bucket-list, and you’re going to be transferred back to general population in an hour. Better that I got fucked by an inmate I’ll never see again, than the guy up the street who might end up ruining my marriage. I’ll keep this quiet so that you remain eligible for parole. You’ll keep this quiet so I can keep my job and marriage. Deal?”
I nodded, silently as I sat back against the wall. She wheeled the machine out of my cell. She looked back at me and shook her head as I noticed the wet spot on the inside of her thigh had grown.
Evander’s Psychiatric Therapy
A few weeks had passed since I left the prison infirmary and it was time for my scheduled mental evaluation.
"Have a seat, she should be here in a minute." My correctional officer said after taking off my handcuffs.
When the door closed behind him, I analyzed the room I was sitting in, noticing the walls peeling with paint. I was in the front row of stacking chairs.
I hadn't seen a chalk board ever in life, I figured this was an old room they used for inmates acquiring their G E D.
Like other inmates, anytime we can spend outside of our cell, we had the mentality of milking it. Probably minutes passed, then I heard the sound of feet approaching the door, from down a long hall.
The door opened and a pair of heels echoed along the concrete floor. "Hey, sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Genevieve. I'll be conducting your mental evaluation." She said just before sitting at the table, in front of the chalkboard. She looked perhaps my age, mid-forties.
“I see you have just a few more months before you’re eligible for parole?” She commented. “You were convicted of; what? Running a chop shop?”
“Possession of stolen vehicles.” I confirmed. “The out-of-state sports cars were hauled in by a ‘dealer’ I wasn’t familiar with. I was asked to disassemble both of them for parts. I failed to ask for proof of ownership. The feds busted me the next day. It was an entrapment, but I still got sentenced for the statutory minimum incarceration, 2 consecutive 7 to 10 year sentences.” I detailed the facts for the 5 hundredth time.
“The out-of-state ‘dealer’ got a reduced sentence in exchange for testifying against me. He got 5 years in a minimum security at El Reno. I’m still here in Big Spring, Texas.”
Underneath her desk, the view was fairly open from my perch on the front row, as she sat across from me. With perfect timing she crossed one leg over the other, not giving that long of a view of her lime green panties under her skirt. Her thighs filled her skirt out very well anyways, so I didn't get the best view of her panties to begin with.
She nudged her glasses up to sit on top of her nose, and tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear. Although she was fair-skinned, almost pale even, she had a suburban look. I couldn't determine what European race she was, but I had a hunch she was no stranger to us black men.
"Mental evaluation? What do you mean?" I asked her.
She curled her foot that hung over her other leg in a few circles, as her gold ankle bracelet danced underneath the desk.
"Let's see here.." She said as she thumbed through her binder. "It looks like you were being treated for Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma." She said with her head down and she silently read further on through my file.
"Yeah, I was" I said trying to understand her angle.
She gripped the neckline hem of her blouse and pulled it up some as she continued reading. Her cleavage looked soft as her breast lightly bounced in place. Her blazer did a great job concealing her breasts while she walked in, but being that she had undone the button of it to sit down, I was able to get a nice view of her thin knit top. She reviewed a series of pages, detailing the various medical reports.
I knew it'd be in my best interest to spend as much time with her as possible. The room now had a slight hint of lilacs.
"You were given chemotherapy for 5 months and monitored for nearly a month afterwards. Is that right?" She said, continuing to skim over my medical records.
"Yeah sounds about right." I said, trying to get comfortable. It was a little cold in that small class room, so I naturally slipped my hands inside my pants for warmth.
"It's a part of our policy to follow up with patients after certain treatments, to track their mental well-being. You can think of it as a form of therapy." She said, finally looking up towards me, noticing my hands were both nestled in my pants.
"Now that your physical condition is on the up and up. How are you mentally? Have you been experiencing any stress or confusion, at all?" She asked tilting her head to the side as she fiddled with her pen.
My first instinct was to say ‘no’, but I realized those type of answers wouldn't prolong my delicious visit with her.
"Um.. well.." I hesitated trying to find to the best approach to take.
She sat up straight in her chair waiting for me to finish but instead there was a long wave of silence. I realized that I accidently conveyed a sense of self-conscious embarrassment.
She sighed and sat back in her chair, occasionally looking towards my lap. "Remember you can tell me anything, our sessions will remain confidential. Really, you can tell me anything. I'm here to help." She said confidently.
"Sorry, it's just hard to think. It's a little cold in here." I said as I adjusted my hands around my shaft trying to take in its warmth.
"Is that why your hands are in your pants?" She said, finally acknowledging what's probably been on her mind. The way her eyes occasionally analyzed my lap, I'm sure had us both just a few thoughts away from sexual ones.
"Yeah, I'm; sorry about that." I said beginning to remove my hands from my crotch.
"No it's okay. I had always wondered why inmates do that. I totally understand. It's cold in here for me as well. I keep getting the goosebumps myself." She said clearing the air as my hands found their way back to where they felt most comfortable.
She wasn't lying at all. I was thinking I could see the outline of her nipples through her blouse, because she wasn't wearing a bra, but it made sense that they were hard because she was also cold.
With her legs bare, I'd be surprised if she wasn't cold. Feeling just how warm my balls were, I began to imagine how warm her cunt was.
"So how has things been for you, now that you are in remission." She said, leaning a little closer to her table.
"I think I've been experiencing a little depression." I said as I looked somberly at the ground.
"Why do you think that is?" She said curiously, clicking her pen every so often.
"Well, I don't know if this is inappropriate, but before I received chemotherapy, the oncologist told me I'd feel drained and sexually uninterested during the process." I said looking off to the paint peeling on the corner cieling.
She nodded and took a few notes.
"Ever since remission, I've been getting my sexual cravings back and of course since I'm in prison, I don't have an outlet." I said finishing.
She looked up, nodding. "Yeah that's completely normal. Those strong chemicals had a way of decreasing libido; so I can imagine it can be overwhelming when your libido is balancing itself out again." She said as we made eye contact. She leaned back in her chair and set her leg that was crossed over her other thigh, back onto the ground.
As her thighs relaxed, I could see those lime green panties of hers again. This time the panties had gathered up in between her cunny lips, to where I could see the outline of her vagina's slit.
Surprised that she hadn't found the conversation inappropriate, I continued.
"I'd think I'd be used to going without sex now. It's been 8 years since I've been locked up and now that I think about it, pounding on a woman was my main way of relieving stress back before I was convicted." I said daring to push the conversation to the limit.
Each word I said was apparently working her, because when I mentioned the word ‘pounding’; her thighs pressed together some and relaxed again.
"Well I'm sure I can offer you plenty alternatives to deal with stress." She said as her cheeks began to redden.
"I don't know if I believe in very many drug alternatives, but the medical staff confiscated a lot of my, uh, ‘inspiration’; when I was in the infirmary. I guess it might be worth a shot." I said noticing a look of curiosity within her.
"Inspiration?" She said as she adjusted her blouse once more.
"Yeah I had some pictures that would help me out when I was experiencing stress." I said
She crossed her leg again as she took a few notes. "Pictures? Like pictures of the beach or something?" She asked genuinely.
"No like pictures out of fashion magazines, of women showing off their blouses. I had a few pictures of models showing off their skirts as well. I have a thing for thighs and legs."
She raised her eyebrows some, as she sat in silence briefly before I went on.
"I had a picture of a fair skinned woman with dark hair that they took as well." I said finding stimulation in the conversation. I had naturally began lightly gripping my cock as we spoke. Seeing her nipples still hard, had turned me on. And each time she uncrossed her legs, my eyes were all over her panties. I had began imagining how tight her pussy probably was.
"They definitely don't allow inmates to have nude pictures." She said as she played with her hair that brushed on her cleavage.
"They weren't nude pictures. Just really hot fashion models, with nice tits and asses. One of my favorites I was telling you about, was a professional looking woman in a blouse and skirt. Her legs looked amazing. It was my go-to picture when I needed to beat off. Honestly, you remind me of her." I said not once breaking eye contact with her, as she now fidgeted with her skirt, attempting to pull it down some. She must have been searching for comfortability as she squired around in her seat.
As she readjusted her legs this time, I noticed a damp spot in the middle of her panties, when her thighs relaxed apart. It turned me on, knowing I was turning her on; and I couldn't take my eyes off that wet slit of hers.
"I hope this isn't inappropriate for you." I said; as she was no longer making eye contact. She was nervously fidgeting a lot, and I could feel her sexual tension.
"No, I can handle it." She said, blushing once more.
After seeing how she had become wet, I was stroking my hard shaft a little more, and she did everything in her power not to look at tenting sweatpants, at that point.
"That's good that you can handle it, a lot of women can't." I said looking deeply into her eyes, though I was talking more-so to the depths of her vagina.
"I guess I'm not like a lot of women. I've been counseling for 23 years. I've heard a lot worse. I'm made for this." She said as she maintained eye contact with a smile and a wink.
"You're definitely made for this. Have you noticed how wet you are?" I said as she slowly closed her thighs.
"I'm not.. wet. Um. We will have to wrap this up here in a second." She said after I seemingly struck a nerve.
"Are you not sure if you want to talk about how pounding on you, would relieve my stress?" I questioned her as she tried to suppress her lips from smirking.
"I, this is becoming inappropriate." She said with all of the right emotions written on her face."
"I thought you were made for this? I thought I could tell you anything? What's inappropriate about penetrating a woman with a full ass, like yourself?" I said alternating between looking at her thighs pressed together and her eyes.
"Well; I'm married and my husband would be upset about you talking to me this way." She said as her lip quivered.
"Would he be upset that you're wet as well?" I questioned her sarcastically.
"Trust me, I'm not wet." She said confidently.
"I've been looking at your pussy for nearly an hour now. Those lime green panties of yours have gotten damper and damper and damper." I said continuing. "Does your husband get you this wet?"
"What my husband does is none of your business." She said calmly after taking a deep breath.
"You should let me dig that stress out of you. You're always helping inmates with their problems. What about you?" I said in a concerned way. “The heat radiating from your crotch has got to be crying out by now. I’m sure a deep massage would do therapeutic wonders for the rest of your day?”
Silence overtook her.
"There aren't any cameras in here, are there?" I asked her, as she shook her head, ‘no’.
"The guards won't be coming back for a while right?" I questioned her, as she shook her head, ‘no’.
"Alright, then." I stood up and walked over to her table, looking down at her. My hand was full on masturbating my rippled fat shaft, as I pulled my gray sweatpants down. She looked at my black cock and sighed in relief.
"Just don't cum in me." She said under her breath.
She stood up and stepped around to the side of the table, then shimmied her skirt down, her lime green panties followed as she bent over the surface, leaning her elbows onto the hard surface.
Precum leaked off of my cock as I looked at her round ivory ass.
"Since when do white women have such full, round asses" I said, as I dropped my pants to the floor and lined up my black, veiny penis with her pussy. I could feel the warmth radiating off of it.
"I'm actually Scandinavian." She said as I sunk into her. I watched her hands grip the edge of the table, and noticed her wedding ring for the first time as I penetrated her tight pussy. Okay, it probably isn’t that tight, but most every cunt feels tight when your shaft is as fat as mine.
I sunk steadily into her, struggling to bottom-out, as I gripped around her nice waist. The smell of lilacs was wonderful, and her naked ass was so inviting.
Before I knew it, I was pounding her. Her pussy was even warmer than I imagined, and it was extremely lubricated with her juices. My precum and her wet arousal filled her up quickly, and began running down her inner thighs. She cried out some with every stroke as I pressed into her vagina.
I actually couldn't believe when I looked down her leg at those same lime green panties, I had seen earlier in between her thighs, was now wrapped around her one ankle. As I pulled my hips back, observing the slimy inside of her panties, she pushed her ass back towards me. I fucked her long and hard, until I could finally sink into her, balls deep.
Once I began truly drilling her with complete disregard for her cervix, her glasses fell down her face and onto the table. I paused.
We must have had all the time in the world, because she took off her blazer and turned around for me as she sat on the wooden table.
I pulled her blouse over her breasts, exposing them and was amused she had natural, pendulous tits with full and pronounced teardrop-shape.
Both of us must have been craving missionary because the minute I sunk inside her, suddenly the session had become intimate and deeply therapeutic. She cupped my neck and guided me to her breast, to suck her nipple. This is when I began to feel like she was nursing me to good health.
She moaned out to me in a language that spoke of craving the attention of a man. So I laid her onto the desk and began making love to her. She wrapped her legs around me holding me tight as I fed her pussy the manly cock it was craving. I held her by her neck as I dug into her deep, and we tongue kissed. Her cunt began twitching, causing my resistance to faulter. Her strong thighs pulled me in, so I couldn’t pump any longer. I was sensing the tremors of eruption about to blast. Her cunt continued twitching, and her climax continued.
We looked each other deep in the eyes, as my seed spread throughout the depths of her. It felt like my soul left my body as her pussy milked me dry. After a few moments, I lifted off of her and helped her to her feet. Eventually she was back to her coherent self, then dressed, and we returned to our seats.
After a therapeutic string of silence she broke the ice.
"How are you feeling now?" She said as she crossed her leg and put her glasses on.
"Definitely a lot more relieved." I said as I relaxed back into my chair.
"Good. We will pick back up where we left off in a few days. I have a feeling you'll be needing a few more sessions. Cancer treatment was a lot for you. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm going to make sure you get all the therapy you need." She said as she stood up.
As she reapplied her lip gloss and exited the room, I knew what I'd be needing next.
Based on a post by black wizvrd for Literotica.