I feel a grab on my bicep to steady me as I slowly step out, having to be careful or the legirons will pull taut. I stand up straight, swinging my he...d around, finding myself inside another sally port, unable to see any outside environment.The two guards, one from the county jail, one from the prison, peer at me as I stand up straight. I don't like being stared at, so I gave them a sneer and said "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Why...oh why, did I say that?The prison guard, his name tag. Watching the two writhing bodies before her she removed her skirt and blouse, sitting there, her fingers running up and down her moist slit.Both Cassie and Jenny were watching Sarah intently watching her fingers playing with herself. Both of them grinding themselves together their juices mingling together as their mounds met with each thrust. Both of them started to grind harder and harder, their breathing becoming shorter and shorter as they neared orgasm.Sarah's fingers were becoming a blur. "Listen," he said over dinner, "Here's an idea for the two of you to kick around. I've got this place near Marrakesh, an old Kasbah; I bought it for a song a few years ago from one of my more wayward acts when he hit the skids. I use it as a hideaway, and the odd band goes down there to write songs and make demos. You really should go there, you and Margaret, and just indulge yourselves. There's a terrific Hammam, olive groves, fields and mountains on your doorstep. The chap who looks after it. Eyes that couldn’t see once the same force had clouded her mind. Limbs that wouldn’t, couldn’t function while she was dragged away, deep into a place inside she’d been once before. The only relief it offered was the numbing chill of sorrow that burned cold. Sickeningly sweet, the scent of blood red rose petals covered the grounds as far as the eye could see. Far off into the distance there was a body, that of a young man, laying in the pillowy cushion of slowly dying memories. Bare feet treaded.
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