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  • Government Name: Marco Miguel Robertson
  • Register Number: 62151-066
  • Age:38
  • Time Served:15 + yrs.
  • Home Town:Laurel, MD
  • Sentence:LIFE +24 yrs.
  • Current Charge:Murder
  • Alias:Marco Miguel
  • Release Date:Seeking post-conviction relief
  • Prison Affiliation:Orthodox Sunni Muslim
  • Circle of Influence:Tewhan Butler
  • Institution:USP Lewisburg (SMU)
  • I am a Maryland State Prisoner in the Special Management Unit of the federal prison system in the fifteenth year of a LIFE + 24-year sentence. NOPE, NONE OF IT WAS WORTH IT!

Penitentiary Tales: Big Girl Rocked My World

Let me journey back to early 1994, when I was 19 years old. Well, I was incarcerated at this time in Howard County Detention Center for theft over $300 in Jessup, Maryland. (January 1993 write up in the Baltimore Sun) It was for a Honda Accord I had gotten from one of my crack-cocaine clientele in exchange for a big block fifty-rock. Nope, it ain’t matter that the steering column was busted. I fell in love with the car. Sure, I took females on dates in it and everything.

Before I veer off course, let me get back to basics. A cellie I had in Howard County named Chris was from Northwest D.C. but got caught up on some kind of drug charge in Columbia, Maryland (Howard County). We went into the usual jailhouse thing of trading war stories, sexual conquests, money, cars, clothes, etc. Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I’ve met plenty of porno stars, Pablo Escobars, Noriegas, comic book characters, and super heroes in my time!

One topic that came up between me and Chris was big girls. I’m not a terrific yarn-spinner or liar. So, I couldn’t identify at the time, as I only dealt with models and ex-models (in the superficial physical sense). Chris went on to say he messed with big girls as long as they had a pretty face. Then, he added that he wanted me to holler at his cousin who was a freaky big girl with a pretty face. I agreed and spoke to her briefly on the phone once, letting her know we’d hook up when I got out.

Any old way, me and Chris exchanged numbers. He said he’d call. I got out before him in March of that year. About a month or two later, he called. Chris said he and his cousin Cloria (with a “C”) were moving from 14th and Clifton in Northwest D.C. to an apartment on Franklin Street in Northeast D.C.  and he’d call when they got situated.

A man of his word, it wasn’t long before Chris called and gave me directions on how to get to there spot from Laurel, Maryland. I had my customer Donnie drive me in his ’66 Chevy Chevelle. Donnie was a white dude whom I begged to buy this beautiful black beauty, but he ain’t go for it. Nope, he didn’t. Donnie dropped me off, and I blessed him with a big block fifty.

I stepped in the apartment, greeting my eyes were Chris and two of his male friends and two British bulldogs. I hate to be rude, but there were two females there who looked just like English bulldogs in skirts. Oooh, I ain’t lying! They were sisters too! Oh my God, ooh! Chris kept telling me, “Marco, go ahead get your dick sucked.” I said they’re ugly. His reply, “Pussy ain’t got no face.”

Cloria was a mammoth! I mean Cloria was an Amazon for real! My goodness! Cloria was every bit six foot one and tipped the scale at about 311 or 312 pounds. Intimidated is an understatement! Can you say fear? Yes, my heart trembled and my body shook as we met. Pretty she was, with shoulder length hair which was black to compliment her smooth light skin. At the time I was 205 pounds myself. I stand 5’11. But I can’t lie I wasn’t prepared for this main event match up. Yes, indeed, this appeared to be a super challenge. An odd job even, where I’d have to punch the clock. She kept vying for my attention. Frankly, I was dumbfounded as to what to do. I asked Chis, “Where’s the smoke at?” He said they’d have to go get it. So, I gave Chris around $40 to get a dub ($20) sack of smoke, a box of blunts, a pack of Newports, and a round of 40-ounce Red Bull malt liquor. You could get a lot for $40 back then, huh?

Chris and his two partners were gone for a nice minute. I have the slightest clue where the two British bulldogs went. Yes, Chris told me they desperately wanted to jump my bones. That left me and Cloria. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but I was scared to death the whole time! I sat on the couch in the living room. And out of nowhere Cloria appeared in a white neglige, like she had a figure or something. She leaned down in my face close enough to kiss me and in the huskiest voice she could conjure, said “Hi Marco, How are you?” looking me dead in the eyes. I was horrified!!! She ended up going back to her room, as I sat on the living room couch in a state of complete shock. I thought, WOW!

Chris and his two buddies arrived after what seemed like an eternity. Immediately, he questioned, “Did you fuck?” All I could say was the truth, which was no. That seemed to make him frustrated. Next, the aroma of skunk weed filled the apartment as blunts rotated and we guzzled forty ounces of Red Bull malt liquor, while the sounds of the Northeast Groovers go-go band cranked hard, banging in the tape deck of their stereo. Chris said, “Let me find out you got a party started Marco!”, while smiling as he danced and grooved to the music.

Now, I was feeling right. Oh yes, I was! Boosting my high with the good jacks (Newport cigarettes). We referred to all cigarettes as jacks. Well, well, you know how the beer makes you piss, so I stepped to the bathroom. But somebody was in it. A few paces to my left was a bedroom where a husky voice trying to sound as sexy as possible called out, “Marco come here, come here Marco!” Well, I’ll be God-damned! When I turned my head to look, there was Cloria sitting on the bed looking like pigs in a blanket! Yeah, she was naked with a sheet wrapped around her big ass, sitting on the edge of the bed. I ain’t lying! If I’m lying, I’m flying. I damn sure ain’t got wings.

I don’t know, but I think the mixture of weed and beer gave me the courage to finally accept this hellacious task of a challenge. Man, I stepped straight up in the bedroom, closed the door and forgot all about using the bathroom! Miss Ghetto told her eight year old son who was fast asleep on the bed to hit the floor, which he did as if it was far from the first time. I ain’t lying. I was wrong too for that one!

I got on the bed and put it in the mix with big Cloria by kissing and sucking her titties. I had a test I used to do, as I was a vicious pussy-eater. I loved it. I’d test the waters by rubbing my fingers on her juice spot then ease them back up around her neck to sniff, while I kissed her. If it ain’t stink, I was there. Big Cloria passed the test with flying colors and smelled delicious. Now that I was there, I was bold. I tried to go down south but for some reason Big Cloria stopped me. Soon afterwards, I told her to put it in. Put me in her gripping goodness she did! She felt so magnificent! I couldn’t help but think what was I afraid of. I didn’t get drowned but truly felt her tight wet juicy walls. I thought, I’ve had skinny girls where I didn’t feel or touch anything and who smelled like they’d been playing rugby.

Big Mamma Jamma had it going on! Chris and his two friends stood on the porch that sat off her bedroom, watching through the window. Guess what?!? I had the audacity to tell her to bend over. She did! It was like sitting at the kitchen table or having a tractor trailer sign smack before you reading, “Wide Load.” I was smack dab in the middle of Big Mamma Jamma. Yes, I was!

Chris and his two friends cried from bellyaching laughter, as they watched from the window. I can’t lie, I did too! Well, not like them. But I cracked a smile. She felt amazingly good. But I didn’t hit it from the back too long, before I told her to lie back down.

A pleasure it was, as she moaned in that husky sexy tone of hers and made inspirational fuck faces. I pumped away inside of here with alternating paces of my bat from furious to slow to straight stiff pounds and circular motions. Only to do it all over again! When I felt my man-milk forming, I rammed her like a madman possessed. Then, I released my man-milk inside of her where her goodness grabbed me to ensure her love-cup was filled with all that my faucet gave.

Cloria put me to sleep. In the morning she showered, dressed and went off to work. I took the Metro bus home and called maybe a week later. Truth be told, I wanted some more Big Mamma Jamma. But to my shocking surprise, Chris greeted me and to my shocking surprise said, “Cloria said you had a little dick!” Whoa! I didn’t know what to say, as he was heated about what she said about my soldier standing at full attention. Oh well!

In short, I never saw Chris or Cloria again. Nor did I ever hear from them again. It was/is a notch in my proverbial belt. Matter of fact, it’s been one of my cold-blooded smash hit classic stories to tell over the years! True bill. I can either lead the way or chime right in when dudes talk about sexual experiences with big girls.

Big Mamma Jamma Cloria did indeed rock my world. She does have an everlasting and embedded place in my memories!

A page from my personal book by Marco Miguel


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