“What kind are you talking about?” she asked, sitting back on her heels, looking at me. I found myself telling her about my marriage and the all ...he exciting things I wished that we would do. She was, amazing, easy to talk to. I watched her expression change from bored to intrigue. Uncomfortable with myself, I went silent. “I wonder what it’s like. How does it feel?” she muttered. Sitting back on my heels, I looked straight into her blue eyes. Locking our gaze, I took a deep breath, licking. Yet, despite her nervousness and her fear, there was something oddly arousing about it. The handcuffs, the monotone orange uniform. She knew she shouldn’t be, but she was feeling a bit turned on by it all. She lay down on her cot and tried to relax, tried to convince herself that it would be alright, that the manager would understand and drop the charges.An hour or so later, Sam came to her cell door. She stood up and walked over to him.“You alright?” he asked her.“I’m in jail,” she said. More

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