’ Horace Walpole, the prison guard who had looked after Marty after Marty had stepped in and held another prisoner in check after he had stabbed Wal...ole in the throat during a riot, sighed. He picked up the pants and held them up against Piatkowski. The cream-colored slacks still bore some of the bloodstains from the beating the police had given Marty in subduing him that day over eight years before. Horace admired the material. ‘Nice slack’s, Marty. What is it, Italian?’ ‘Armani.’ Horace. With my fingers now wet with her juices I massaged her clitty. Involuntary moans began to escape her lips as her husband gently snored from his bed on the floor. I was going to stop, it seemed so unfair to wake her for sex but her arousal woke her. “Oh master,” she sighed as she reached for my erection.It was time for sex again. I didn’t bother taking her panties off when I moved between her legs. I just pulled them to one side to expose her cunt. Sally’s hand reached down and took hold of me. More

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