Indian Homemade

’ She said. ‘I’m a slut.’A smile on his face. ‘Are you know?’ He asked bemused. ‘And how old is this slut?’ ‘Twenty three.’ She said. ‘I’m in – ’ She wanted to say she was in her senior year in college, but then she pressed her lips together. ‘I dropped out of college,’ she said. ‘Way too boring. I need adventure.’ He nodded and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. A burst of electricity. Nervous butterflies. Now something would happen. He would kiss her, she would kiss him back. His hand rested at the nape of her neck, while he looked at her face. Well if he didn’t make the first move, she would. She leaned into him and pressed her lips against his mouth. She felt the rough stubble of his beard, thick sloppy lips giving her a slimy wet kiss. She pouted her lips, parted them an pushed her tongue his way. Licking past his lips, she could taste salted peanuts and scotch, he opened his mouth and let her in. Tongues touching. Lingering excitement building up, throbbing arousal. At first I believed I was dead, but I felt still nauseas and I opened my eyes. I was not dead, but lying on a metal floor. My hands were tied to my back and I was bare feet, someone had stripped me of most of my uniform, but to my surprise I still wore the leather shoulder holster and in it was the antique colt 45, Admiral Stahl had given me. If I could only free my hands somehow. I wiggled and strained my arms into an awkward, painful position and glanced at my wrists. It looked like Memory material tape. Plastic fibers that stuck only to each other, but with an incredible tensile strength, no matter how much I strained it didn’t budge. All it did was cut deep into my skin.Still sick to the stomach I sat up and looked around. I was in a holding cell and I cursed, “Not again!”The memory of my last time stuck in a holding cell was still fresh; even though it happened almost three years ago.This prison cell had the shape of an inverted half pipe that was set like an alcove into a metal.
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