The twenty-third year I asked why I kept getting turned down? The board told me that I had no plans. No place to live or no job plans. They figured I ...would be back inside within six months. After the twenty-fourth year I didn’t even try. I mouthed off to the board that they had to let me go the following year. ‘No, Joseph, your sentence was twenty-five years to life. You won’t get out till we till you that you can.’ I saw the smirks, and it really pissed me off. I was under the understanding. I reached down and opened his zipperand started massaging Mr Happy. He was getting harder by the second-when the kiss broke I whispered, "Tell me what you want and how bad youwant me." I so enjoyed the short moments of female power I had.It didn't come out very easily by him, at least the part of him wantingme. I leaned down and started licking him like he was an ice cream cone,and he was moaning in pleasure. I followed up like a human vacuumcleaner, first just the head but soon he was guiding. They were hanging loose, and apparently he kept them shaved clean. I'd never seen manscaping like that in real life, and I had to admit it had a certain appeal. I couldn't help thinking how nice they might feel against my cheek. I shook my head, trying to remember this was my son's dick I was looking at."Beautiful balls, son. I bet the girls love sucking on those, don't they?" Yeah, whatever, Mom." His annoyance with me was thick in his voice.'Monique, touch your son's penis.'"He wants me to. I was squished against the guy in front of me with my boobs pressed against his back. As the band played the crowd started to jump up and down and it didn’t take to long for my skirt to ride up over my hips. I didn’t bother putting it back down, having a young, and black, tall, good looking man pressing his crotch against my ass made me very horny. So I pretended not to notice. So as the concert went on he kept pressing harder and harder against me and so I arched by back and pushed up against.