It felt as good as I had imagined for many months. Then he dipped his finger-tips into my hot center. I flexed my inner muscles to grip at his fingers, desperate to keep him within the hot confines of my body. The juices dripped out each time he pulled his fingers nearly all the way out.His body had moved closer to mine, his front was leaning into my side to better his angle. I could feel his chest heave out with each intake of breath and his warm exhale on my hair. Then he leaned down and sucked my earlobe into his mouth, breathing into my ear. His fingers continued to move in and out of me and he whispered in his guttural, deep voice, "Let's go."I wasn't going to argue. I wanted to go. He didn't need to say it twice. He removed his fingers and I watched him put them in his mouth tasting my nectar. I could barely hear his "Hmmm," above the roar of the room around us. His actions caused me to squirm in my seat. I wanted to run for the door, dragging him by the hand behind me but I. Each time, it got a little easier. Every time he ejaculated, it would take longer for the feeling of shame to arrive. He didn’t want to imagine his wife and daughter in those stocks, getting violated again and again.Resigning himself to another day of swallowing his conscience, he backed out of the driveway and headed off towards the city. It was a cold morning, utterly silent. The only cars on the road belonged to Guards heading to or leaving the prison, or collaborators who were tasked with things like food deliveries. The city was livelier, in a tragic sense. Work crews operated 24/7 to expand the prison. Not a second went by that power tools weren’t whining and bricks weren’t being lain.The workers and laborers operated in shifts like the guards. Their clothing was just warm enough to prevent frostbite, but the only real way to avoid the chill was to worker harder. The parking lots were left untouched so that guards had a place to leave their cars, but there was no excuse for.
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