A couple of the other inmates at the Arizona Women's Detention Center asked me in the GED training class that I was teaching about the unfortunate set of circumstances that caused me to receive such a stiff sentence from the unsmiling judge in Tucson.
You have probably heard the old adage that says nobody in prison is ever guilty. I knew that in my case that was true but I had no idea about all the others.
Let me start first by telling you that my name is Mrs. Sally Johnson. I had been happily married to my husband of some fifteen years and we did not have any children because my Ronald was discovered to be sterile from some sort of accidental incident in his childhood. Of course, neither one of us knew this when we exchanged vows to love, honor and obey in sickness and in health for the remainder of our life on Earth. Ronald was probably the most upset by the news because he wanted desperately to continue the Johnson line a bit further in time. His parents had five girls and he was the only boy, so none of the other siblings could continue with the name Johnson.
Up until that day when we finally got the news we were going at it like a couple of rabbits in heat trying to propagate the Johnson name. It really cooled off after that and I wasn't certain if it was because Ronald lost interest knowing there would be no offspring or if I was less than enthusiastic about just fucking for fun and not to start a real family. Anyway, we slacked off like an old married couple and only did it now on special occasions or if one of us or both of us got drunk and lost all sense of propriety. In a situation like that, it was pretty much any cock or vacant hole would do and it did not necessarily have to be a familiar spouse.
I was pretty loyal and hadn't cheated on my husband in any way except to flirt every now and then with one of our married friends just to break up the monotony. I was fairly certain that Ronald was screwing different girls at the office because he started coming home with lipstick on his collar and sometimes even on his jockey shorts with the unmistakable outline of lips right on the front of his briefs. It was like he didn't really care if I knew or not because he stopped trying to hide his indiscretions from me. It was almost like a slap in the face but I still stayed loyal and never brought up the subject of his "fooling around" because I liked being married and having someone in bed with me at night even if they didn't much want to use my body for their pleasure.
With a lot of time on my hands, I started to go to a fitness gym and even running long distance as a hobby and a way to keep in shape at the ripe old age of thirty-five. I managed to knock off two sizes and about twenty pounds in a few months and Ronald never even noticed a thing. I think he was far too busy chasing after the new temporary workers at his work. He seemed to be on some crusade to nail each and every one of them before anyone else in his office. When I went to the Christmas party, I got to see some of them and they were like in their late teens and early twenties with legs that went up forever. I imagined that each of them spent a lot of time with their lips wrapped around my Ronald's thick cock. He even had the added advantage of not being able to make any of them pregnant because of his sterility problem.
A couple of girls at the gym pestered me to join them in taking a "pole dancing" course that was being taught for free for the females at the gym that had paid for a full year's membership. I certainly qualified and since it was free and involved exercise, I decided to join them in the course. I think in the back of my mind I had this idea that if I was able to learn how to pole dance, I would be able to re-kindle Ronald's interest with my newly acquired sexy moves on the pole.
The location for training was an actual "Gentlemen's Club" and it advertised "Completely Nude Dancers" in red neon lights right over the entrance. We all giggled at that because we knew none of us would be dancing nude any time soon. The two instructors were both females with fantastic bodies and an assortment of tattoos that made them both look like walking comic books.
My two companions Josie and Diane were, in fact, a bit out of shape and had to do a lot of exercises just to get ready to do some basic pole positions. I was real lucky because the loss of weight and the running had given me and advantage on the pole and I was able to maneuver almost as easily as the girls that did it for a living. Josie and Diane were a bit jealous but they were proud that at least one of us could handle the instructions and they worked hard to learn the basic moves.
After about a week and a half of intensive training, I was able to do all sorts of tricks on the pole. I was nowhere as good as the professional girls who were so agile on the pole but I could perform well enough that most guys would get a quick hard-on just watching me do it even with my bikini on and not nude like the real pole dancers.
Jolene the oldest of the two pole dancer trainers told me I "had the moves" to be a regular pole dancer and it all revolved around "attitude" more than skill. She told me to pretend the pole was a man's cock and I was doing all my "tricks" to make the pole happy. That pole was slick and thick and the thought of it sliding up into my pussy never failed to make me wet. Of course, that was not a good thing if one was totally nude during the performance. Wet poles often led to accidents and I didn't think my health insurance would pay for an accident on a Gentlemen's Club Pole.
I graduated with a little certificate and the girls at the strip club gave me a little cake to celebrate.
When I got home that night, I planned to put on a performance for my neglectful husband that would blow his mind and hopefully get him to bang my brains out behind the closed bedroom door.
My plans were all shot to hell because the first thing I spotted when I got home was an envelope on the kitchen table that had his letter of resignation from our marriage inside. Apparently, his newest conquest had plenty of money and he was taking an extended vacation to the French Riviera as her "companion" on her father's yacht. I couldn't picture my Ronald on a yacht but I could picture him on top of some eighteen year old bimbo pumping away like the energizer bunny.
At first I was sad but then I got angry because I had done everything I could to make things work. I was just settling down with a bottle of wine in front of the television when I got a text from the girls at the club to ask "How did he like your dancing?"