First Comes Love

That night, I return home and throw my keys and purse onto the kitchen table. I instinctually open the refrigerator and stare at the nearly bare shelves. There is a carton of eggs, a half loaf of bread, and a bag of carrots for when I'm trying to encourage healthy snacking. I realize I'm not hungry for any of this and close the fridge in disgust. I look at the stainless steel door and see grey. Damn it. That color again. Now I'm thinking of his granite-grey eyes and his strong arms. I'm remembering the outline of his cock when I x-rayed his chest, and the way it seemed to grow harder by the second. When I think about it, I realize I've never touched a cock that big in my life. Jonathan wasn't built like that. I wonder what it would feel like to take him inside of me. I feel a flush of desire wash over my body and I decide to take a shower. Maybe that'll help.

I undress and look at my body in the bathroom mirror.

If Lucien were free now, there’s no doubt somehow I would have found a way to bring him in here. That he would be standing next to me with his muscled body.

I place my hands over my breasts and imagine that they are his hands, his strong fingers, and imagine that he has me in his control and I feel my nipples harden. A tingle runs through my body and I feel myself getting damp. I need him. Whether he’s here or not.

I walk over to the shower and step inside, turning the heat up. I stand under the stream of water while the steam fogs up the shower doors and I exhale deeply. The showerhead nozzle is removable, and I take it off its stand and into my hands bringing the hot spray of water to my nipples and I lean back against the shower wall. I run my free hand down my body and to my pussy, shoving two fingers inside.

I close my eyes, removing myself completely from this world as I imagine that those fingers belong to Lucien. That as he does this he runs his tongue along my neck, kissing the ridges of them.

I shudder in repressed pleasure as I picture Lucien squeezing my tits and my ass. His giant body looking over mine before he ravished it. His thick, juicy cock quivering in desire before it begins to plunge into me.

Then I remove them and bring the hot stream of water of water to my clit. My entire body clenches under the growing, pulsing desire. I imagine that the hot pressure from the water is his mouth and the image is too much to carry. I throw my head back and let the orgasm overtake me, ridding it out until my legs stop shaking.

Lucien

Spider laughs so much he's crying. "Here you are—Mr. Fucking Stone—the grit in this graveyard we call a correctional institution, and some nurse wants to suck your nuts. What's the world coming to? Does she know what a sorry ass you are?"

"Fuck off, Spider."

"Shit, I'll give her a real pair of balls to play with."

"You should really shut the fuck up before I change my mind about this aspirin right here," I tell him, showing him the white pill nestled in the palm of my hand as if it were a precious stone. In here, it might as well be.

"Come on bro, lighten up. I'm just fucking with you. Did you get me the paperclip too?"

"I got it, but that wasn't easy. She was on to me."

"On top of you?" he asks, laughing his ass off.

"Do you ever fucking listen? Not on top of me, you idiot. I mean that she isn't as stupid as you think. I had to grab that shit when she wasn't looking. You're lucky I didn't get caught. Don't think I wouldn't have ratted your ass out."

"Shit, Stone, we're tighter than that."

I watch as he throws the aspirin into his mouth and chews it. I twist my face in disgust. I don't know how he can chew it like that. Sensing my thoughts he says, "It makes it work faster. I don't have time to wait for it to work its magic. That's the addict in me."

"Shit," I say. "In here, all you've got is time." I watch as he flops down on his bunk and hangs his long legs off to one side. As much as Spider can get on my nerves, I figure sharing this cell with him is better than being in solitary.

"I've got to get out of here." I say this to myself, but Spider is listening.

"Seeing as you've got yourself a life sentence, you're only hope of getting out of here is to grow yourself some super human powers and bust these walls down like the Hulk," Spider laughs again so much that the bunk shakes. "But for real… if you can get little Miss Fireball to give you an extra aspirin, maybe you can get something more."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on man, you're smooth. We all know that. If you get her to like you enough, anything's possible. And what do you think? Do her curtains match her carpet?"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?"

"I'm serious. If you fuck her, I've got to know. But I'll go ahead and place my bets—they match."

As annoying and idiotic as he is most times, Spider has his moments of clarity. And right now is one of them. That's exactly my plan. If I play my cards right—if I fuck her and get her to fall in love with me—I can ask her for a medical leave to the St. Smith Correctional Facility—a low security prison in the desert where I've still got my mob connections. They'll help me escape, and I won't stop running until I've hit the Mexico border. I can almost picture myself driving through the desert at night past cacti the size of cowboys. I'll slip down south and give the middle finger to all of this madness. I just need her recommendation.

I climb up onto the top bunk and lay my head atop of my flat pillow. My mind is zipping through all of these thoughts and I wonder if I've still got it. I remind myself that it's been a while since I've been with a woman. Didn't she steal a good long look at my cock when she was x-raying me though? I couldn't help it that day. One look at those tight tits of hers, and my cock had a mind of its own. She looked away as soon as she sensed I was noticing her. But maybe that doesn't mean anything at all? I can feel the early stages of sleep tugging at the corners of my thoughts until it overtakes me, and I fall asleep dreaming of my next meeting with her.

I awoke the next day and immediately call out for the guard. "I need help! Shit, it feels like hellfire when I try to move my arm!"

"OK, OK, Stone, let's go," the guard says, and we walk down to the infirmary. I can tell he's annoyed and only half believes me, but since he isn't sure, he's allowing me to get checked out. I try to exaggerate my limp and give extra grimaces of pain. I tell myself this better work.