Writers Corner

    “Disguised as God” - Visitation


    I knew the congregation would fill quickly in the large cafeteria like space because it was Saturday. The blue connective chairs with an end table after every two, was where we had our weekly date. The sterile, cold environment with a small tv, that you could not hear, mounted to the wall served as our entertainment. There was a mural of what looked like a Black or Hispanic family in a park with a whole bunch of flowers, attempting to make the space look pretty. The picture reminded me of something that would be painted on a building in the "hood". The guard station was strategically positioned to give them as much visibility to each visitor and inmate as possible. I tried to prepare for my king's entrance, using the bathroom, checking the vending machines, that sort of thing. The prison rest rooms had no mirrors, so I really had no idea how I looked. But, I was like a school girl before each visit; filled with excitement. I got his favorite drink, Lipton Peach Ice Tea, but held off getting him food, so he could watch me walk back and forth a couple of times. He was permitted to walk around but he had become so conditioned with not being allowed to from other facilities that he just sat most of the visit. I was prepared with my twenty single dollar bills to provide him with whatever he liked. In our last conversation, he said, "Open-up the place Hun", which meant get here first. I was the second person in line and the crowd of folks were still pouring in an hour later. I left home before 3:30 am and arrived right before 8:00 am. Arriving any time after 8:15 would have you waiting another 2 ½ hours, for "count". This was our routine. We had it down.

    I choose his favorite seat, in the back corner. He demanded that his back be against the wall. I am not sure if this was paranoia, but I would always comply. From that spot, the guard didn't have great visibility of us and we were able to have a little intimacy. Across the room, I could see his silhouette as he stood behind a closed door that had a tinted window on top. This was the check point. Sometimes he would come from behind the door disheveled with his shirt unbuttoned. Yet, the image I could see of him was sexy as hell, as they searched his person for contraband. He was a tall dark skin man with two different colored eyes; one like a green gem and the other as dark as mine. I believe this condition was called heterochromia. His dreads flowed down his back like royalty with thick eye brows to match. There was still evidence of his wavy, silky, hair as soft curls defined his hairline. When the security door opened he made eye contact with me without hesitation and walked confidently to where I was sitting. He was so focused on me that I felt like nothing else mattered but us. I had to learn how to kiss him because he was so commanding, but I learned to love his lips sucking on mine; our chemistry was insane. He had full lips and he would grab my bottom lip gently with his teeth to show how much he wanted me. The entrance was the best part of the visit.

    "I want my wife so bad.", he whispered in my ear, as he held me in his arms.

    "I want my husband.", I softly replied.

    Joyful images marked our weekly visits. It was only 9:15 am and there was barely a seat left in the place. We became watchers of sorts. We watched mothers reuniting with sons after years of being apart. We watched children running into their Daddy's arms, longing for the sentence to end. We watched lovers, passionately kissing, as if this visitation were their last. We watched the incompatible couples; women who obviously would not be chosen on the streets by these men, speculating if their love was true. We reassured ourselves that we were better than all this. We just watched. And then there was us. We finally made it to the 7-year mark; still in love, silly as ever but unable to consummate this union for these prison walls. I loved numbers and 7 meant completion. This made me believe he would be out this year. Well, the restrictions were less now than they were at some places, but it still was prison.

    "I love you Eva."

    "I love you too Pent."

    "Do you really?", he said. Sometimes he would look so sad.

    "Of course, I do." His insecurity gave me comfort. His vulnerability gave me purpose.

    His smile just locked me in.

    "Did everything go all right with what I asked you to do?"

    "Oh yeah."

    "I know you are low on money. I'm going to put $200 on the Spiderman account tonight."

    "That's fine."

    "I hate you have to go through all this, but I am going to make it all up to you."

    "I know. What do you want to eat?", I said, trying to lighten his mood.

    I would serve my husband like a king, switching like a pole dancer to the vending machines. My curves could be seen through the God-awful scrubs I wore to get in without any problems. I wasn't very graceful; a little on the goofy side but I would put on a show. "Get it Babe.", he would call out ignorantly, which made me switch even more. I would look back to his infectious laughter. I was truly happy. During the visit, my husband would give me a compliment for everything from my body to my heart. He would even compliment my mind, asking me to spell words that he had studied the week before. We just loved words and that's all we trusted. I couldn't trust his presence because he couldn't come home to me but the words, I trusted. That's what we lived by; words. I never felt such love. In those moments, he captivated my spirit and satisfied my soul. I remember thinking that if it ends in pain, I would do it again.

    "I brought a tip with me love."

    "Oh, yeah? Slip it to me", he said in his hustler tone.

    We held hands as I gave him the small square package. He had the most beautiful hands. They always looked manicured. Pent got up and made his way to the bathroom. He turned to look at me with a grin and laughed in turn. We both were so silly during visits. When he returned, we snuggled in the corner, staring at one another in the most passionate way. We both whispered to protect our privacy.

    "Is it on?"


    "Can you see it?"

    Pent unzipped his pants while he was in the bathroom. I looked down and I saw the tip of his manhood covered by the latex that I had passed to him. I slowly slipped my hand in the open seam of his pants. I stroked him up and down with my right hand as he sat staring straight ahead. His eyes squinted as he checked me out in his peripheral vision.My panties became moist with thoughts of our future. It was ok he couldn't touch me. It would be too dangerous for him to touch me. The penalty could be as severe as losing his visits. I was just so moved by his excitement though. I pleasured the tip because I knew that was what he liked. His face became flush, biting his upper lip to try to have some composure.He took a deep sigh of relief when he had finished. It didn't even feel like we were in a crowded prison visitation room.

    "I wish you could put your mouth on it", he said with a wink.

    "I bet you do", I said with the "whatever" smirk.

    We both busted out laughing. He made his way back to the bathroom to clean up and while he was gone, I fantasized what it would be like to sleep with my husband. You see, I hadn't laid with a man in 8 years. But, I committed to what Pent has assured me of. Prison was our Eden. We never argued, and I didn't need to know everything, just that he loved me.I just loved him so. 

    “Disguised As God” - Keeping up with the Con
    “Disguised As God” - Am I Next?

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    Friday, 15 November 2019
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