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A Prison Break

By: A_Satori



copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved.

[Author's note: My thanks to Andrea4328 and ny_girl14 for their editorial help on this story. It is greatly appreciated.]



A Prison Break Ch. 02



copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved.

[Author's note: This story is Part 2 of A Prison Break, which I recommend be read prior to the story below.]

[Acknowledgments: My thanks to Andrea4328 for her editorial input and especially her tutelage on comma splices in compound sentences, although some of it may have fallen on deaf ears. Her work on this story is greatly appreciated. Any mistakes remaining in the text are mine alone.]





A Prison Break Ch. 02



I placed a doubled paper towel on the countertop to put the newly washed glasses on, there wasn't any room in the high pile of dishes draining in the other sink. I bit the bullet and separated the previous washed glasses from the big pile, put those on the paper towel, then stuck in the newly washed dishes in the drainer. I looked at the clock. 7:58AM. I figured I needed to get some fuckin' clothes on. 

I quietly walked to the master bedroom and peeked inside. Lana had rolled over to face the opposite wall. I silently walked in, picked up my jeans, underwear, and T shirt, then went to the living room, pulled the damp towel off, and got dressed. There were a few small semen stains in my briefs. There had been semen leaks in all my fuckin' underwear the entire previous week from either watching Lana's tease shows or thinking about Lana's tease shows. I picked up the towel and tossed it on top of the washer in the mud room. 

I put more ice in my water glass and refilled it. I thought about making coffee but my stomach wasn't feeling very well and I was too thirsty to drink coffee. I lit another smoke. I wondered how long Lana was going to sleep. I had to get my shit together. What the hell was I going to say to her? I sat at the kitchen table.

Well, I couldn't fuck her again. It was wrong for a hundred reasons, a few vying for the top of the list. I didn't want Barb to know for good, and for some selfish reasons. It would devastate her, emotionally it would kill her. She hadn't done very well those first couple months drying out. Those visitations had been afternoons from hell. Would she off herself if she found out? My gut tightened yet again. I knew that answer was "yes," at least a good possibility. How could I have fucked up so badly? Did I want to leave Barb? Did I want to divorce her? To have her divorce me? Can prisoners divorce their spouses? Locked up in prison, she'd be in utter despair if she found out I had fucked Lana, especially if she knew I had freakin' paid Lana.

Jeezuz. Barb might reach some crazy conclusion that cutting off Lana's allowance was my way of getting Lana to fuck me for money! Oh shit. Would she think that? I hadn't done that! Yeah, I've been thinking about fucking her, especially the last week or so, but yesterday I was fuckin' praying she would be out before I got home last night! I didn't plan any of it, she did! She had the whole fuckin' thing planned out!

It suddenly felt like the wind got knocked out of me. Last Sunday, going to that goddamn truckstop con whorehouse... that's when she started planning it all. We talked about that one whore last night. Shit! Why the fuck did I stop there?! Did I subconsciously go there on purpose for her? So she'd see those prosties? Did I hope she'd get the idea? 

I stared out the window over the sink and considered it. NO! I didn't think anything like that! Did I? NO! I had a taste for that fuckin' chicken and I didn't want to go to some fast food joint she might have liked. That's why I stopped there. How could I have ever thought seeing a few whores would make her jump to the conclusion that she should offer me sex for money?! I may stretch possibilities sometimes, but that would have been a fuckin' colossal intellectual leap of fantasy, even if it was subconscious. Fuck subconscious! What the fuck does subconscious have to do with any fucking thing! If it was subconscious, I wouldn't fucking know it, and I sure as hell didn't think it consciously!

Why should I feel any of this is my fuckin' fault?! What the fuck does Barb expect me to do for three to five fuckin' years?! Become a priest?! The knot in my gut tightened yet again when I recalled thinking something like that last night. I pushed the thought from my mind.

Lana is the one who fuckin' propositioned me. She's fucking eighteen, that's legal age in this fuckin' state, in EVERY fuckin' state. She fuckin' teased me for three, four days! Like any whore on a street corner, hell, MORE than street walkers! She had the whole thing planned! She preyed on me, not the other fuckin' way round! She knew I was horny and she made me even hornier, insane fuckin' horny! She knew I was drunk, she knows I fuckin' get half smashed nearly every evening some weeks, and she fucking goddamn well knows I don't give a shit about anything sometimes when I'm half in the bag. She must have noticed that in all my fuckin' arguments with Barb! She played me like she was a fuckin' whore! Just like a fuckin' whore!

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I crushed the butt in the ashtray, then swept the ash that had fallen on the table top off the edge. If it was her fault, why the hell was I so fucking full of guilt about it? Because I was a weak fucking asshole, a drunk, and now a cheating fucking prick of a husband? I had vowed to myself that I would never... NEVER do that to Barb, even though I guess I thought she might do it to me. I had promised myself I'd divorce her before I ever cheated on her. If I couldn't do that, then the broad wasn't worth fucking. 

Shit. Fucking shit.

I buried my throbbing head in my hands then rubbed my face and skull. Why couldn't I just stop fucking drinking? Some days I didn't drink at all, other days I'd plan to have one or two beers but then I'd drink an eighteen pack. Why couldn't I just fucking quit? 

It was my safety valve, that's why. It was a way to release the pressure. And I didn't do crazy shit every time I got wasted. Barb liked me drunk, she always said I was so funny, and so hot after I had a few drinks. We had fun at the bars, we had hot times in the bedroom too. Yeah, I'd wish I could recall every minute the next morning, but sometimes it was fun with Barb the following day filling in each other's memory gaps of the night before, like hearing about some movie where you were the main character. When I was loaded, I didn't worry about anything, I didn't feel like some fucking shithead failure, the edges were taken off everything, for the most part. 

Not always though. Sometimes it made me plain crazy or turned me into a mean son-of-a-bitch. That's usually when I got into the fights. The next day it would scare the hell out of me sometimes recalling how I had done some crazy shit like driving the truck at 95mph, or how I made a fool of myself in some bar, or how I had really wanted to kill some asshole who had said some shit to me, or who I just thought was a fuckin' prick. Half the fights I had been in had been me picking them. Maybe more than half.

After I met Barb, I had cooled it a little, but sometimes even Barb screaming at me to leave some bar instead of fighting, or physically trying to restrain me from duking it out with some fucking asshole in the parking lot, didn't stop me. Once I shoved her away so hard in some bar, she fell over someone else's table, which had the bouncer on me in a microsecond, holding me while the asshole I was about to fight, delivered a few fists to my face and gut as the bouncer dragged me to the door and pushed me outside. Barb came out and screamed at me for at least five minutes, the bouncer standing at the door watching. Then in the car, she sobbed between shouting tirades at me all the way home, telling me that if I ever shoved her like that again, she'd kick me out of the house and never have anything to do with me again.

I never planned to get drunk. No, that's a lie. Of course I did. The thing was, I never planned to be an asshole. Yet if I was honest with myself, which sometimes I can't manage, I probably knew or at least could feel the nights I was going to end up in a shouting match with some prick in a bar, or worse. It was usually after a lousy day, a day when I'd lose my "sober" temper during the day. Sometimes my fuckin' goddamn anger just exploded. Half the time I didn't even know why. 

Sometimes on the days I felt it brewing, I could keep it under control, other days, it really did just explode. It would truly surprise me, like some terrorist bomb had just detonated. There was never any conscious decision to go off on some prick. Like at that truckstop with Lana. At first I really was about to throw a punch at the guy, who undoubtedly would have mopped the floor with me. I pulled back from it though. Sometimes I could pull it back, think with my brain not my gut. 

Thinking with my brain. I certainly wasn't doing that last night. I was thinking with my fuckin' dick. Along with the ball of guilt inside, I added self-loathing. What the fuck was wrong with me? There were some days I could just have a couple beers, or no alcohol at all. Why were there other days, when I would start out thinking just a couple, and end up opening the Comfort and drinking myself into blackouts? Why don't I know when I'm going to do that?

I thought of AA. I hated AA. I had never gotten a sponsor, never gone to the smaller touchy-feely meetings, just the large general ones. I never stayed to the end of those. I'd been going to the general meetings on and off for five years. I would get so fuckin' depressed listening to the fuckin' testimonies or stories or whatever you call them. I hated it because I saw my own bullshit and lack of control in every one of those assholes. I didn't want to admit that I was like them, that I'd end up like any of those sick looking older guys. All I had to do was somehow figure out why there were those days I could not stop drinking, then when I figured that out, all I had to do is just not drink on those days. It was one of those days that Barb drove home, me passed out, the night she killed that kid on the bike. It was like one in the fuckin' morning, why the fuck wasn't that kid home in bed?! 

Oh jeezuz. She is in prison because of me. My eyes teared for a moment.

'If' and 'What if' and 'Why can't I' were the fucking chapter headings of my fucking life.

I fucked Barb's daughter last night. I cheated on Barb with her own daughter. What's lower than scum? I looked out the window again. I had to get my head together. What the hell was I going to say to Lana? I blinked. What the hell was she going to say to me? I thought for a minute. I had to find out if she was going to tell Barb. I had to find out if she was going to tell anyone. I was sure she said a few times last night that she wouldn't say a word to anyone. I thought she said that. She had to have said that, right? Shit. I'll have to ask her again.

A fresh, gut wrenching thought entered my head. Oh fuck. What if she's now thinking about selling her body, selling it to fuckin' high school boys? Oh jeezuz. I had to make sure she didn't do that. How the hell was I going to do that? She doesn't listen to me about any fuckin' thing. Don't become a whore, Lana. Don't ever sell your body like that again. Sex is for people in love. It should be making love, not fucking. Yeah, like she's going to listen to me! Especially now. I wouldn't even believe that bullshit. She'd just laugh at me. I was her first trick, now I'm going to be giving her advice as her counselor? As her priest? Yeah, right. 

I gave it more thought. Was her plan to fuck me once for money, then use it as leverage to get her allowance back? Threaten to tell Barb? But, wouldn't Barb also be insanely angry at Lana then too? Wait. She could tell Barb I raped her. Oh shit. I had already mentioned that to Barb, and that would make Barb think that I was trying to make her believe Lana would lie before I had actually raped her daughter. Yeah... yeah, she might think that. Oh shit. Oh jeezuz. How could I have been so goddamn fucking stupid?!

Barb would tell the cops. Wait. Maybe Lana will threaten to tell the cops, extort money out of me with the threat. Blackmail. But, unless she goes in for a rape exam today, maybe even tomorrow, how could she prove it? Her word against mine? Would the cops believe me when I would say she had propped me for sex? Yeah, right.

My hands rubbed my face again. I was spinning my wheels. I had to find out what she was going to do and say. She had me over the proverbial barrel, and she goddamn knew it. Fuck. Maybe I should just give her the fucking allowance and not discuss last night at all, or... maybe tell her it was a mistake, that it would kill Barb if she found out, and that it would destroy her mother if she started hooking for high school guys or... jeezuz, just hooking for any guy. I blinked again. She could use the house during the day for fucking her johns. How the hell would I know or stop her?

I leaned back in the chair. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I was still spinning my wheels. I had to talk to her. I wouldn't know what to say or do until I talked to her. What if she didn't say anything to me, didn't answer any question, just left me guessing about all of it? What could I do then? I could do... ... nothing. She's not going to listen to anything I have to say anyway. She never has, why would that change this morning? The only thing I could do is try to talk to her, try to get answers. That's all I could do.

I can't show fear though. I do that and she'll have even more 'hand' over me. I can't show fear. I guess my fuckin' father was right all those years growing up. I do have my fuckin' brains up my fuckin' butt. What the hell is wrong with you? You got your goddamn brains up your ass?" Yeah, and fuck you too, Dad.

My fucking dad. He was a drunk too. A periodic drunk, like me, but my periods are shorter. I guess I inherited the right fucked up gene from him. He gave me the fucking anger too. 

I thought about the 'strappings.' I didn't think about those very often. Other kids got spanked, maybe not with a belt, but spanking was still part of parenting when I was young I guess. He never did it to my older sister, just me. From the time I was four. 

A sardonic smile curved my mouth.

I never knew what I had done so wrong that deserved a whipping. What could a four year old do that would deserve a lashing? I didn't burn the garage down, didn't do finger paintings on my bedroom walls, didn't break or ruin shit in the house on purpose. And if a four year old did any of those things would it validate a whipping?

Sometimes I was just slow to follow his 'orders.' I don't wanna stop playin' yet. Can I play more? On his bad days, that fell under 'backtalk,' or giving him 'lip,' and I'd hear, "I'm not taking any shit from you like that!" or, "I'll teach you to show me some goddamn respect!"  I was supposed to 'jump' when he told me to do something, and when I didn't that was more than enough at four, five, six, seven, and eight to have him grab my arm and drag me to my parents' bedroom, order me to lay on the bed. He'd remove his belt, then he'd whip my ass with it until he got his fill of my screaming and sobbing.

Other days, he would tell me he and I were best friends. "You and me, we're buddies, right? C'mon, get your glove, let's play some catch." Those buddy days were usually a day or two after a whipping. 

I love-hated him.

When I was seven, I figured out what his rush was about it the strappings. He wanted, needed, maybe even craved to hear me scream and cry in pain. Finally my own hate and anger gave me some backbone. One evening when I gave him 'lip' or somehow didn't give him enough 'respect,' he gave me one of the usual lines, "I'll teach you respect!" 

He grabbed my arm and pushed me to his bedroom, shoved me onto the bed, took off his belt and started lashing away, craving to hear me crying and screaming that I was sorry and I'd be good. I clenched my jaw and kept my mouth shut. I didn't utter a sound. My eyes welled up and tears flowed but he couldn't see it because my face was pressing into the bedspread. He whipped my little ass harder. With each lash, my anger and hate grew, which reinforced my resolve not to make the smallest whimper. I think about halfway through he muttered something like, "You think you're tough, huh? I'll show you." He whipped harder. A minute or so later, I heard my mom at the doorway. He kept that belt coming down adamantly while she spoke.

"Anton... that's enough... Anton, stop. That's enough. Anton! That's enough!"

The son-of-a-bitch gave me at least four more. He then pulled the belt away and started putting it back on his pants. He was actually a little breathless, huffing air, when he said, "That'll teach you to respect me." He left the room. 

The fucking, ignorant prick didn't realize he and his belt just made lose respect, made my disrespect grow, and taught me to hate him even more. As I slid off the bed, Mom came up and put her arm around my shoulders. I shoved it off, told her to leave me alone. I went to my room, closed the door and lay on the bed. My ass was burning as I buried my face into the pillow trying to muffle the sound as I cried and choked with sobs. A couple minutes later Mom came in, sat on the edge of the bed, stroked my back gently, and said something like, "Just try to be good. Just do what he says right away. Okay, honey?" I didn't answer. I hated her at that moment too.

I never cried after that or tried anything like I had when I was five, stuffing a book in the back of my pants. I think I had seen that in some really ancient cartoon very early some Saturday morning, some animal character about to be spanked, putting a book in his pants. Dad didn't always push me to the bedroom, sometimes he'd shout at me to go there, make me wait for the strap, probably trying some psychological terror on me. It was one of those times that I stopped in my room first and got the book. It was a thin but fairly large hardcover book on butterflies. Looking back now it's funny. Of course he saw it as soon as he walked into his bedroom, not too many kids had flat rectangular butts. He didn't laugh. He rained that belt down on the back of my thighs that time. Probably gave me a few extra for being so fucking stupid, shoving a book in my pants.

I didn't get whipped every day, not even every week. It was periodic, like his drinking. Maybe they both coincided. I was too young to differentiate when he was drunk and when he was sober. I never cried again during the punishments, even though the strappings got move severe. When I was eight, I won. Dad lost. 

He didn't lose to me, he lost to Mom. I think she finally realized I wasn't even getting teary eyed anymore. I think she could see that my hate and anger grew after each strapping, just by looking at my face, just by seeing my clenched jaw and the intensity of my eyes. I also think she may have thought Dad would really injure me some day, being drunk, being even more pissed off that he couldn't elicit a scream, or a tear, or a pleading sob from me begging him to stop. 

Even at that age, I had decided I'd fuckin' die first before I'd give that fuckin' prick the satisfaction of hearing me cry ever again. I never heard Mom speak to him, but I was sure she told him to stop the strappings. I'm glad she finally did. I bet I'd be an even meaner son-of-a-bitch now if she hadn't. Funny, but I never did and still don't respect my fuckin' ol' man. I also know, he could have beat me a lot harder and more often than he did. I never once had to pull my pants down. Later I learned there were other kids who had it a hell of a lot worse than me, although I didn't know that then. I guess it really wasn't that big of a deal, although it was during those four years or so when I was little.

I was staring out the window blindly. My jaw was clenched. I relaxed it and took a slow breath. How had I gotten on that shit? Why the fuck was I thinking about the fuckin' ol' man now? I had bigger fuckin' problems, real problems I had to deal with. 




A Prison Break Ch. 02



I looked at the clock. 8:26AM. I felt my anxiety rise, maybe it was plain fear down to my very core. It was time to start facing reality. I got up, got the bottles of ibuprofen and vitamins. I took two pills out of each bottle and put them on a saucer. I got a clean glass off the paper towel, put ice in it and filled it at the faucet. I'd leave it all on the bedside table if Lana was still asleep.

My heart was beating faster than normal and my gut was knotted as I approached my bedroom. I peered inside. Lana had moved again, but was still facing away from the door. The sheet was up to her shoulder. As I quietly stepped inside I thought I saw her leg move a little. I set the ice water and small plate of pills on the bedside table. As I picked up the glasses left from last night, I noticed her shoulder. She was wearing the mens tank shirt. I was sure she didn't have it on earlier. I stood straight and gazed at her.

I whispered, "Lana? You awake?" She twitched slightly. I waited for a response. After ten seconds I started to turn.

"I'm... not feeling too good."

I spoke softly, "Hangover?"

"I... I guess. Do... do you want me out of here?"

What I wanted was to erase the past twenty-four hours. "I... no... stay, but... I brought you some ice water, and some vitamin pills and a couple ibuprofen. Why don't you take 'em now." She didn't move. I still hadn't seen her face.

"I... I don' wanna."

I exhaled softly. "I think you'll feel better if you do."

"I... I'll take 'em later."

"Do you want to sleep more."

"Um... yeah."

"Ahh... do you want some... orange juice now?"

"Um... no... um... later."

"Okay. I'll... ah... let you sleep." 

I waited a moment to see if she'd say anything more, possibly 'thanks,' but she stayed mute. I walked out to the hall, took a couple steps away from the door, stopped and leaned against the wall. I listened for crying, a cough, a muttered swear word, I don't know why I was listening. I heard the glass clink against the rim of the plate. A few seconds later the plate slid on the table. Another period of silence then the glass setting down again. I frowned. She couldn't even tell me the truth about whether she was thirsty or not, was she going to tell the truth about anything? I remembered what I had said to Barb a few weeks ago: I don't trust her.

I felt exhausted. I wished I would have slept longer. I folded my arms across my chest, holding the empty glasses with my fingers stuck inside, bowed my head and closed my eyes. I silently began chastising myself all over again. 

"Oh!"

I flinched, nearly jumped. I opened my eyes, turned my head and pushed off the wall. Lana was standing in the hall less than two feet from me. Her puffy, sleepy eyes were wide and her mouth was agape. Her hands went to the hem of the tank shirt. She pulled it down a little, then one hand held the hem as her other rose to her shoulder, her arm covering most of her little tits. 

"I... uh... thought you were going to sleep longer." She looked fourteen to me again, a thoroughly embarrassed fourteen. My guilt rose yet again.

"I... I-I needed to... um... go to the bathroom."

"There's the master bath." I figured the john was filthy as hell. I knew she was lying.

"I... I meant I... I was... couldn't sleep, so... so I was going to take a shower."

"Feeling better then?"

"Um... no, not really."

"Did you take the pills?"

"Uh-huh." She pulled her shirt down a bit more, then looked down to check the neckline at her tits. 

"Oh... I guess I should mention, I didn't want to wake you this morning, so I showered in the hall bath."

She looked at my face. "You... you used my bathroom?"

I almost laughed at her 'my.' "Yeah."

"Oh... um... ah... okay." She looked really scared again. "Are... you going into your room?"

"No."

"Where... where are you going?"

I genuinely smiled for the first time since waking, not a big smile, as I told her the truth, "I don't know where I'm going." It seemed like my smile made her even more nervous or scared. I glanced at her hand at the hem of her shirt. She was holding it out knowing it would make it less see through. 

"Would you go somewh.... um... don't you... don't you wanna go into your bedroom?"

For a moment I wondered who the hell was wearing Lana's tank shirt. Where the hell was the tough little bitch I had known. "What are you doing after your shower?"

"Huh?"

"Are you going somewhere... you know, out after your shower?"

"I... I-I-I don't know... um... I... I don't think so."

"Well... obviously, we... ahh... need to talk about... about last night." I got angry at myself for the verbal hesitance.

"I... I thought you'd say that." Her breathing turned shallow and quick.

"So... take your shower, then we'll talk. Okay?"

"I... I guess so."

I gave her a limp smile. "Good."

"I... I'm gonna take my shower." She really seemed very nervous.

I nodded. "Okay."

She bit her lower lip and stepped around me. As she passed, her hand lowered from her shoulder. Both hands gripped the hem of the tank shirt, holding it down a little but also pulling it back so it didn't lay on her apple ass. My gut knotted with fear again. I wondered if she was hurt, bleeding. I tried to remember if I had fucked her ass. I remembered thumbing her asshole, but not sticking my dick in it. Dammit! I turned and went into my room. I checked the top sheet for blood stains. None. I yanked it off the bed and looked at the bottom sheet. Only cum stains. I relaxed a little. 

I stripped the bed. I stepped over to the corner of the room by Barb's dresser. There was a gap between the end of it and the corner of the room. That's where I tossed my dirty clothes. I glanced at the dresser top. I saw the fifty dollar bill. I couldn't believe she forgot her money. I picked out the white things from the corner pile, added it to the sheet pile, grabbed the two glasses and headed to the mud room, figuring I might as well do a load. Shit. I'd have to wait until Lana got out of the shower. It might screw up her hot water, the water heater was old, the replenish time on it sucked. 

I put the glasses in the sink, then went into the mud room, put liquid detergent in the washer and loaded it. I opened the fridge and looked inside. I really wanted that orange juice. I grabbed a soda, sat at the table and took a sip. I lit a smoke, then tried to relax and figure out how to start the conversation with Lana. Even if I had been totally blitzed last night, which I hated to admit I wasn't, at least not at the start; how in hell could I possibly have thought fucking Lana would be okay to do? Jeezuz.

Maybe... maybe we could talk about it like adults.

It was an hour and a half before I saw Lana slowly walking towards the kitchen. The girl was still surprising me. It was a warm June day, not really hot, but she was wearing a long sleeve off-white cotton jersey shirt, and those kind of running pants that had replaced most everyone's sweat pants, the ones with the single stripe on the outside of the legs. They were pink with a white stripe. I had never seen her wear them. Her hair looked damp and she had it in a pony tail. I couldn't recall if it had ever been in a pony tail. Something wasn't right. Something happened last night that I can't remember. She was scared. Maybe scared to be with me now? That's the only reason I could come up with for the way she acted when wearing her tank shirt earlier, and now she's fully covered up, well, she was barefoot. She flaunted her hot, little bod for a week, and now she was trying to cover it up? What the hell was going on?

I looked at her hand. She had a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush. I realized they were mine. "Oh... ah... thanks for bringing that."

"You... you left it in my bathroom." Lana put the things on the table near me then sat at the far end of the table. She pulled her legs up to the seat, pretzeling them.

I guess it really was her bathroom. "I... I didn't know you did all that work, the decorating in there. It looks good."

"Some of that stuff I um... picked up during the last town junk pick up week. The... the wire shelf thing, and... the pictures, and... that wicker stuff."

I really wanted to ask her about that hidden photo in the linen closet. "Looks good."

"Um... um... thanks."

I took a slow breath. "Ahh... I guess we should talk about last night."

"Um... yeah." She bit her lower lip.

"Firstly, I... I hope I wasn't too rough with you, or... or hurt you in any way. I... I was pretty drunk."

"I'm... I'm a little sore, but... I... no, you... I guess you weren't too rough."

I saw her eyes tear a little. It made my gut knot tighter. "Lana... ahh... obviously, last night... ahh... shouldn't have happened. I think we both know it was a mistake." I held my breath.

She responded immediately. "I knew you'd say that." Her arms folded over her chest. I realized she was wearing a bra by the depressions on her shoulders. It seemed her eyes teared more.

I hadn't expected that response from her. "Ahh... maybe... ahh... Do you want to talk first?"

"No, not really."

It was the shit attitude again. I suddenly didn't feel like taking all the blame. I told myself to keep my cool. "Why are you angry?"

"Am I angry?"

I again told myself to keep it level. "I don't know if you are, but I'm getting the impression you are. I hope you remember, it was actually your idea last night." I instantly knew I shouldn't have said that. I quickly added, "But... that doesn't mean I have no responsibility about it." I took a breath. "So, are you angry about something?"

"I don't know. I guess not. I..." She exhaled. "You.... you..." She pursed her lips and her eyes teared a little more.

"What? Tell me, or-or ask me if it's a question. What is it?"

"Do... do you... do you remember what... what we talked about in bed before... before we went to sleep?"

My brow pinched. "What we talked about?"

"Yeah. What we talked about."

My forehead was still tight. "I was pretty drunk, and really tired by then, Lana. Why... why don't you refresh my memory."

Lana turned her head, pretending to look out the kitchen window over the sink. "I knew you'd say you were too drunk to remember." Her jaw clenched for a moment.

I felt anger start to simmer and I told myself to relax again. "Well, it happens to be the truth, and I find it a little amazing that you seem to remember it all so clearly, since we were both drinking pretty heavily, in fact I seem to recall we were matching drink for drink." She had to have been drunker than me with that little body. I saw her bite half of her lower lip.

She didn't look at me. "I... I guess I had a... a little less than you."

"Wha' d' ya mean?"

"One of my drinks was... wasn't whiskey, it was iced tea."

I couldn't stop the grin but kept it down to a small smile. She really had been acting like a freakin' whore last night!

There was an angry edge to her voice, "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, just wishing I would have joined you on that ice tea. I... I'd probably not feel so lousy today."

"You drink t..." She bit her lip again for a moment then looked at the sink window once more.

"I drink too much? Yeah, I do." She didn't say anything to that. "So... you wanna tell me what we talked about before I fell asleep."

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you want to talk about it? Or, you can't remember now what we talked about?"

"Yeah."

I got angry for a moment, then I just found it funny. In my past I had answered double questions with that same response. I said hell with it, and let a brief chuckle escape my mouth. "That was pretty funny."

"I'm so glad you liked it." The edge was still there.

I decided not to get pissed off. I pushed my chair back. "Do you want that orange juice now?"

"I don't know. Yeah... yeah, I guess." She started to get up.

"I got it." I made up a glass of ice and poured the last of the OJ in it. I set it in front of her. 

"Aren't you having any?"

"Isn't any more. I was saving that for you. I'll have a soda."

"Do you want this?"

I got a Coke from the fridge. "No, you drink it." I sat down and popped the can, took a sip, then lit a cigarette. We stayed silent for a couple minutes. Lana broke it.

"You... you like really don't remember what we talked about at... at the end?"

"I really don't. Sorry. You wanna tell me what it was?"

"I... I don't think it matters now. You... you already said it was a mistake."

"Don't you think it was a mistake?" I saw her eyes tear up again. My brow pinched. What the fuck was going on? What the hell was I missing here?

"I... I guess I should."

"What was the... Tell me what we talked about at the end."

"I... I don't know. Maybe... maybe I can't remember now."

I wondered how in hell I had hoped a short while ago that she and I might be able to be at least somewhat adult about it all. I told myself not to lose my cool. I drew in a slow breath and exhaled it just as slowly. "I'd like to ask you something which is a little off the subject at hand. Is that all right?"

"I don't know, is it?"

My teeth clenched for a moment, then I realized, that's what she now wanted. She wanted to piss me off. I waited to cool down before I spoke softly, "You know for... hell, nearly three years now, if you count the time I was dating Barb, I have been wondering why the hell you and I can't at least be civil with one another if not friends. That answer you just gave me, that tone you just gave me? I didn't deserve that. At times you seem to want to be treated like an adult, then you do shit like that answer. I'm trying to talk to you seriously here, because... because we... we both did something serious last night, serious... on a lot of levels. So, do you want me to treat you like some ornery little girl, or do you want to be treated as a young woman. It's your choice." I could see that had her a little stumped.

"Why... why do we have to talk about any of it?"

"I just told you why. Last night serious things happened. And obviously, we need to clarify everything. You're giving me the impression we talked about something important and serious last night at the end, which I do not remember. I... I want us both on the same page here. I don't want either of us assuming that the other remembers saying this or that or agreeing to this or that, when that person may not recall any of it. So... that's why." I took a sip of soda, amazed how well it seemed I was speaking. "So... what was it we talked about at the end?"

"You... you just wanna know if I'm going to tell anyone, that's all you really wanna know."

"No, it's not, but since you brought it up, are you going to keep it all confidential, between just you and me?" I held my breath.

She spit her words out, "I know what confidential means."

My ire rose again. "Yeah, I assumed you did, but you know, things can be confidential between more than two people."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes glared. She stayed silent for ten seconds, then said, "I won't tell anyone. Happy now? I must have told you that a hundred times last night."

I wasn't happy but I was a little relieved. I also knew she'd have it hanging over me for the rest of my fucking life. "No, I wouldn't call it happy. I'm glad I can trust you about it. I won't tell anyone either."

"I didn't think you would."

"I know you're angry at me, and maybe what I'm about to say will make you even more pissed, but I have to say it and I want you to listen. Okay?"

"What?"

"Last night was wrong for a l... for a few reasons. I want you to know that... ah..." I took a breath. I didn't want to say it but I had to.

"What?"

"I... I hope you know that... that making money that way is wrong, and I hope to god you never do it again. I..."

Lana broke in with a shout, "Keep your stupid money!" Her face scrinched for a moment, then she quickly wiped her eyes and calmed her face, looking down at the edge of the table.

"You're... you're too beautiful and... and you have your entire future ahead of you, so... so I... I had to say that about... about selling yourself."

"Yeah, I'm SO beautiful, with... with such a great future ahead of me."

I exhaled. "Lana, it... it can be, but... but not if your attitude doesn't change. I think... I think I'm a good example of how you can screw up your future. From what I know, you... you haven't made the kind of mistakes that... that I made by the time I was your age. You've got that going for you. I was angry like you too, and... and I still have a hard time dealing with my anger. Do... do well in college this fall. That's when things get... start to get important and serious."

"That's not really college. It's a community college."

For some reason I asked, "Did you try for grants or student loans for other schools? Universities?" Maybe I was hoping she'd somehow be able to go off to college somewhere far away. If she went away, it would somewhat solve one of my problems.

"Not... not really."

"Why?"

"Because... because I... I didn't know if I wanted to go."

"Did you apply for admission at any college or university?" 

"Maybe."

"Where? Which ones?"

She thought for a few seconds, probably about whether or not to answer me. "Champagne and DeKalb."

I was surprised to say the least. "Did you get accepted at either?" I quickly added, "At both?"

"Yeah."

"Which?"

"Both."

I was dumbfounded. "Why didn't you say anything about it?"

"What difference would it have made after her accident? And.... and you told me there wasn't any money, and... and I figured there wasn't any anyway. At least not... not enough for either of those schools. Not that kind of money."

"Why in hell didn't you tell us, tell me?"

She looked at the window. "It doesn't matter."

The conversation was not going at all the way I had anticipated. Why the hell didn't she at least tell Barb about it?! "Did you write the admissions offices at both those schools and ask for a... at least a year extention on enrollment?" I had done that for grad school. I had been dumped by a girl a couple months before I was supposed to start and was getting drunk a lot. I didn't have my shit together enough to begin a masters program. I got the extension, started a year later, then dropped out right before finals week that first semester.

"No. I don't know. What... what is that?"

"It means you might be able to keep your enrollment status for a year. You can start next year, as... as a sophomore, or a second semester freshman, depending on what courses they accept from your community college work. You should write them as soon as possible, tell them... tell them money or something is a big problem right now. Maybe... maybe we can work something out, maybe... you can get some grant or loans. We'll look into it. You... you should have told Barb about this, and... and me too." For a moment I wondered if I really cared or if I was just afraid she'd tell Barb everything about last night. But, why the hell hadn't she told Barb about this college shit?

"I knew there wasn't enough money. What difference would it have made?"

"You should have told me and... and like I said, maybe we can work something out. Write those letters as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

"Maybe... maybe I will. Maybe I won't. I don't know."

I couldn't remember what the rest of what I was going to say about last night was. Why the hell didn't she tell me about any of this? Why the hell didn't I ask her? Barb always told me she was the only parent, that's why. No, that's not why. I'm just in my own fucking little world, that's why I didn't ask, but... would Lana have told me? No, I didn't think she would have even if I had asked. I would never have guessed she had even applied. Hell, I was surprised she got her high school diploma!




A Prison Break Ch. 03



copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved.

[Author's note: This story is Part 3, the conclusion of A Prison Break I recommend both previous "chapters" be read prior to reading the story below.]

[Acknowledgments: My thanks to Andrea4328 for her editorial input. Her work on this story is greatly appreciated. Any mistakes remaining in the text are mine alone.]





A Prison Break Ch. 03



I was glad she had taken off that damn dangling chain from her eyebrow ring when I asked her to do it. I looked at the small group of dancers. It was so crowded in the club, it seemed more like they were just moving up and down, a bubbling area of bodies in the sea of zombies. I figured I could bounce up and down. I exhaled, finished my drink, set the cup on the table, and said, "Fine! One dance!"

Lana grinned and instantly started pulling me towards the undulating circle. We pushed into the group passed a few couples. Lana started dancing, got into it right away, including the theatrical facial expression. On the other hand, even after three drinks, one being a double, I stood there swaying a little, feeling incredibly self-conscious. I just moved my hips and shoulders a bit, hoping there wouldn't be a burst of laughter from the mob. 

I looked around. I hadn't seen college age people dance in a while. I noticed a couple to our left, the guy was basically dry humping the girl's ass. I looked to the right. Another couple was doing the same thing. I saw another guy crouch down and his date moved between his spread thighs and virtually shoved her cunt right into his face. I stopped looking when Lana backed her seductive apple ass into my crotch. Her head twisted around.

"Put your hands on my waist!"

I did. Her hands covered mine and held them. She started dry humping my now full erection. I basically just stood there. Tens seconds later she bumped her ass against my throbbing prick a few times.

"C'mon! Move too!"

I obeyed and started dry humping her butt. A half minute later she turned around, put my hands on her shoulders, her hands went to my waist, and as best she could in her miniskirt, she started rhythmically humping my thigh, then moved between my legs, then to my other thigh, the 'into the music' expression still painted on her face.

Dancing had really changed since my college days, although I had never paid that much attention to it back then either. Maybe I should have. I was always at the other end of the bar drinking. I smiled when Lana turned around again and her firm bottom pressed against my cock. My hands on her waist pulled her tighter to me. I began envisioning a night of wild lust when we got home. I couldn't take my eyes off her butt.

We danced, or more accurately, humped through three more songs. We were both sweating when I leaned down and pressed my lips to her ear. "Let's go home. You've made me so fuckin' horny, honey."

Lana giggled. "Not yet. C'mon. A few more dances."

I pulled my head back to look into her eyes. She had her eyebrows raised and the rest of that goddamn cute Oh c'mon pleeeeease for me pleeeease face on. She was learning all my buttons pretty fast. Another song started as my lips went to her ear again. "I need another drink first!"

"No you don't! Let's just dance!"

I gripped her hand and shook my head. "Drink first!"

She exhaled. "All right!"

We waded through the crowd to the bar, it was slow going, then another couple minutes before a barmaid come over.

The young woman smiled. "What would you like?!"

I noticed her big tits again. "A double bourbon rocks and a...!" I looked at Lana. Her face was now wearing her I saw you checking her tits out expression. I smiled. "Wha'd'ya want?!"

"Ginger ale!"

I looked at the barmaid again. She nodded then stepped away and started building the drinks. I reached for my wallet. Lana tugged my arm. I dipped my head to her.

"You wish I had bigger boobs, don't you?!" Her eyes were intense.

I gazed into her blues. I smiled and shook my head. "No! You're incredibly perfect!"

She exhaled and rolled her eyes.

Our drinks arrived and I paid the young woman. "Keep it!"

We moved towards the wall where there was a better chance of getting a tiny table to stand at and actually have some elbow room. We found an open one. I was dying for a smoke but a city ordinance banning smoking in bars had passed a few months ago. I watched Lana sip her soda. Her body was swaying and turning to the beat of the music. I took a swig of my drink and set the plastic cup down. My hand went to her lower back as I kept watching her little body move and the profile of her pretty face.

She looked at me. "What?!"

I half smiled. "You look so damn hot!"

She nodded then flapped her hand in front of her face fanning herself. "I know! I wished they'd open windows or something!"

I chuckled. She wasn't kidding. I leaned down to get my lips at her ear. My hand on her lower back drifted down to her ass. The wall was behind us. "I meant you have a very hot body, baby. I wouldn't change a thing about you." I gave her bun a firm squeeze, she tensed for a moment. "Why don't I finish this drink and then we'll just go home." I kissed her neck. She tilted her head offering better access. I planted three more kisses on her warm, moist skin.

"We have to dance some more first! But... I'll speed us up!" She set her soda down and grabbed my drink. She downed nearly all of it, just leaving a tiny sip.

My jaw clenched for a second. "Goddammit! Why did you do that?!"

She grabbed her soda and took a big gulp to wash the taste of whiskey from her mouth. She looked me squarely in the eyes. "You're drunk enough! I... I wanna be with you, not totally drunk you!"

My jaw loosened. Her simple statement diffused my anger. I was getting pretty loaded. And I was driving. I smiled, my lips went to her ear again. "Fine. I'm actually glad you drank that because I like being with the little bit drunk you better." I laughed.

"Shut up!" She slapped my arm pretty hard.

"That was a joke! You bitchy little booze thief!" I took her soda and had a large sip.

"Watch it or you may not get any tonight! And give me that!"

I laughed as she took her plastic cup from my hand. She finished it then grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bubbling pool of rhythmic dry humpers.

After three more dances I told Lana if we didn't leave now, I'd cum in my pants, and I didn't want to waste it on Fruit of the Looms. Maybe because of the dancing the liquor seemed to have hit her bloodstream really fast. She looked at me with slightly inebriated eyes, then wrapped her hand around the back of my neck and pulled my head down so her lips were at my ear.

"I want you inside me so badly right now. Let's go."

We got to the truck as quickly as we could. After a few deep tongue exercising kisses that were about to lead to something more, Lana broke away, breathing heavily and said, "Let's get going. Just be careful driving. Don't speed, just... just hurry up."

I laughed and headed towards the expressway. After we got past the busier city traffic and were nearing the first suburb, I put my right hand on Lana's thigh, stroking it, moving her miniskirt higher and higher, until my palm cupped the cotton panel covering her pussy. It felt warm and slightly damp. She squirmed in her seat, moving closer to me without removing her seat belt.

"Take your panties off, Lana." I thought she'd give me some smart remark, but she quickly raised her ass and pulled the little garment down and off her legs. She had taken her pumps off. I looked at her feet. "Put the heels on again."

She giggled and mumbled, "You perv." She slipped them on.

My hand went back to her pussy. I worked slit and clit with a couple fingers. She really got slippery. Ten minutes from our exit, she had an orgasm.

At the house we virtually ripped each other's clothes off. I got the comforter from my bed and spread it out on the living room floor, then got all four pillows from my bed and a small, black plastic bag from the closet shelf. Lana was already lying on the comforter, her little, naked body making my stiff cock throb with increased lust. I put the pillows down then sat and handed her the bag.

"What's this?" She sat up.

"Little present."

She pulled out the anal plug 'training set,' a string of condom packets, and a new tube of lubricating gel. She held up the plugs. "These... these are new?"

"Yeah. They're yours now. I washed them already." I watched her get all three plugs out of the plastic box. "Do... do you still wanna try it?" I saw her smile. 

She looked at me. "Yeah. Do... do you?"

I chuckled and she rolled her eyes.

"Do... do I put these in?" 

I smiled. "No, I will, but first..." I took everything from her hands and set it to the side. "I need to kiss every square of you." 

I nudged her down to the comforter again. I started with her lips and worked my way down, dallying at her breasts, then much longer at her pussy, my hands holding her luscious bottom, raising her up, and tonguing her to another orgasm. I continued my oral journey all the way down to her toes. I told her to turn over. I began the reverse side trip, up from her heels, both legs, over the curves of her always pouting bubble butt, up her back to her shoulders, down both arms, then returning to her neck, dallying there then down her spine kissing but mostly just drawing a line with the tip of my tongue to her tailbone. 

I pulled a couple pillows over. "Raise up." Her bottom rose and I pushed the two pillows under her hips. "Okay." She lowered onto them. Her ass looked glorious. I held her hips and smeared my face across her smooth, firm buns. I was breathing faster and deeper than normal. "Ahhh... Lana."

I gripped her fleshy swells and opened her deep valley. She stiffened for a moment then relaxed. My tongue laved on and around her hot little hole. She tensed again for a few seconds.

"Oh.... ohhhhhgahhhhhd," she murmured.

My tongue worked as my palms massaged her glutes. I could hear her breathing quickening again, just as it had when my mouth was on her pussy.

She whispered, "I want you inside me there... oh god... mmmhh." Her hips churned.

I pulled my face away and moved to get the tube and the small and medium plugs. I slid another pillow next to Lana's shoulder, and told her to raise up into a half doggy position. She knew what I meant. She pulled the pillow under her head and her butt rose as her legs moved into a kneeling position. I lubed the smallest plug and set it down, then my fingertip applied some lube to her hot little hole. She giggled and tensed at the coolness of the gel. As I brought the tip of my middle finger to the apex of her anus, my other hand went under her and cupped her little pussy. My finger found her clit still turgid, still slippery from my earlier oral ministrations. Her hips squirmed for a moment. I wiggled and gently pressed the tip of my finger at the center of her squinting little hole. 

I spoke softly, "Anytime you don't like something, tell me and we'll stop. Okay?"

"Uh-huh. I want to do this."

"Relax and push out a little." 

I knew that sounded contradictory but I didn't know how else to say it. I felt her anus relax. My finger started slowly undulating into her ass.

"Oh god." Lana's breathing quickened.

I worked her clit a little faster. "Do you like this?"

"Uh-huh."

Within a minute the entire length of my middle finger was repeatedly slowly sliding forward and retracting within her ass. She started pushing back to meet my probing digit. She reached under herself and grabbed my hand playing with her pussy.

"Don't... I'll cum if you keep doing that. I... I don't want to yet."

I pulled my hand away and stroked her inner thigh, then her small breasts. I finger fucked her ass for another minute, then brought the smallest plug to her slightly open little hole. I touched the smooth tip to the tiny 'o'.

"Push out a little like before."

She was panting. "Okay."

My other hand cupped her pussy again. I slowly worked the plug into her. The first half slid in easily, then she tensed. "Relax, baby." I felt her hole loosen. I pushed it all the way in. As the widest part passed her anus, she tensed for a moment until it popped inside. I fingered the base of the plug, pushing forward and side to side. "You okay""

"Uh-huh. It... it felt big for a second."

I pulled it out a minute later and repeated the process with the gelled medium size toy. Her breathing turned ragged when it popped inside.

"Uh. That's... feels... um... bigger." She moaned when I started diddling her clit again. "Mmmhhhh." I wiggled the base for a minute or so, then pulled the plug partially out, just passed the widest part, and then pushed it back in. She tensed for a moment.

"Ohgod," she whispered.

I did it again, then three more times. Her little hole expanding and contracting-- o-O-o. "Do you like it?"

"Uh-huh... yessss." She panted a few breaths. "I want your cock in me there."

I did too. I pulled the plug out dropped it on the comforter and reached for a condom packet.

"Do you have to use that?"

"I... I think it's best for... for disease or something."

"Do you have some STD?"

"No. I think it's for hepatitis."

"Do you have that?"

"No."

"Then... don't use it. I... I want to feel you cum in my bottom."

I wasn't going to argue with her because I wanted the same thing. I lubed my aching, throbbing cock and reached over her for the pillows. "We'll start with you on your side, I think that's the easiest way to... to begin with. Let me pull these pillows out of the way. It'll be like spooning."

"Okay." 

I moved the pillows out from under her as she rolled onto her side.

"Can you reach back and hold your top bun open?"

"Uh-huh." She did it.

I saw her anus was dilated, the hole about the size of the neck of the medium plug, about the diameter of a nickel. I didn't use the largest plug, I thought she'd balk at trying my cock even if she could have taken the largest toy. The widest part of it was slightly smaller than my girth. "Jeezuz, Lana... every inch of you is beautiful." My hand guided the head of my cock to her hot, now open, hole. I nudged the lubed tip in.

"Ohgod."

"If you want to stop, just tell me. I'll stop."

"Okay."

I firmly and gently started pushing in. "You can push back when you feel like it."

"Oh god... you feel so big."

I didn't argue about that this time. Half the head of my prick was being hugged by her hot ring. I felt my balls tighten. "Urrh... jeezuz... I'm not going to last long, Lana, this... this is too damn hot."

"Don't... I... I want you all the way inside."

I'm not sure how long it took, but with starts and stops, and mostly letting Lana push back when she wanted, my cock finally sunk all the way into her hot ass. Her torrid anus was gripping the base of my prick as if it was holding on for dear life. I was taking ragged breaths, so was she. "Lana... this feels so damn good, so... so incredibly hot. Are... are you okay, baby?"

"Uh-huh... god... but you're so... big."

I pulled the pillows over. "Let's try to turn onto your stomach, so you're on the pillows again. Tell me to stop if it hurts."

"Okay."

We slowly rolled into the position, my cock still deep in her ass. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh."

I held my weight off her back with my left elbow as my right hand slid under her. My middle fingertip started diddling her still turgid clit.

"Mmmhhh."

"Lana, I want to start moving my cock. Okay?"

"Uh-huh. I... I feel so full of you."

Even though I was a hair away from shooting my wad, I almost laughed, thinking being full of me was about the same as being full of shit. 

"I like this... it... it feels hot and... and so weird." She shivered when I kissed her shoulder. "Your finger... ohgod... I'm getting close."

I slowly retracted my cock, enjoying each inch creep passed her hugging sphincter.

"Mmmmm... oh... oh yeah."

I pushed into her again. She tensed. I stopped.

She exhaled. "Keep going."

I obeyed, slowly my cock sunk into her luscious ass. I squirmed my hips. I almost shot my load when I felt her ass push into my groin and squirm too. Jeezuz... she did like it. If I wasn't so close to cumming I would have grinned. I pulled back and pushed in again, grinding again when I was fully planted in her. She responded again.

"Oh yeah... do it... do it a little faster." Her breathing grew more ragged.

I pulled back and pushed in with a bit more speed. She moaned when I grinded for a few seconds. I kept pulling back and pushing in, and my finger continued playing with her pink pearl. A minute or so later, we got into a good rhythm. I was fucking Lana anally. I was fucking Lana's perfect, hot, apple ass. Just the thought again almost made me shoot. "Honey... I can't wai..."

She interrupted. "Oh god! Harder... I'm-I'm-I'm gonna.... ooooh."

I pulled back and did more of a thrust than a push. She shoved her ass up and back, her hot hole gulping my muscle into her bottom. It was a miracle I lasted three more thrusts. After the second one I nearly shouted, "I'm gonna cum!"

"Yes! Now! NOW!" Lana began convulsing, her hand made it to mine at her pussy and she pulled it away. 

I thrust into her ass the hardest yet, my groin smacking her bottom - smat! - and that was it. "ARRRRH!" My hips went crazy as if they were trying to get more of my fully engulfed cock up her ass. My body went rigid. I pushed my face into the pillow at her head. "Ahh! Fu-UK!" My rod started pumping in her rectum. It felt like each spasm spewed a lot of jiz. I kept pushing down and she kept pushing up and swaying her hips. Jeezuz... it felt so damn good. Finally I was spent. 

I started gasping breaths. Lana already was. I had to take a dozen breaths and swallow a couple times before I could speak. "Honey..." I swallowed and gasped yet again. "... are you okay?" Her head turned towards mine on the pillow. We exhaled and inhaled each other's breaths.

Lana smiled. "Uh-huh." She huffed a few more gulps of air. "That was so... so hot and so... god.... I felt so full of you, so... so close to you, like... like the regular way."

I raised more of my weight off her back. I kissed her lips and smiled. "This is... a little naughty though, isn't it?"

She released a soft giggle. "You make me naughty." She took another breath. "Are... there other positions?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, just like the regular way, there's other positions."

She took a few deeper breaths. "Which do you like best?"

I glanced at the couch, then gazed into her pretty blue eyes. "Like... you on the couch or on the bed, you know how sometimes I fold your legs up and back?"

"Uh-huh."

"I could enter your sweet bottom that way, facing you. I'd... I'd really like to look at your face when we do it, I want to look into your eyes." I swear she blushed.

"Can we do it that way tonight?"

"Aren't you sore... tender?"

"I... I don't know. No. I'm not tender."

Incredibly, my softening cock in her ass started growing again.





A Prison Break Ch. 03



"Did Barb ever tell you about... ahh... why she's no longer in contact with them?"

"She told me they had a fight, and they... they really didn't love her or me at all, and... and I guess she and I were living with them then. They got really angry at Barb about something, they told her to take me and leave and never come back. They said if they ever saw her again, they'd... they'd get the police to take me away from her and... and put me in a foster home. Something like that. I've only asked Barb about it a few times, and... the stories were the same, but... but some details were different."

"Do you know anything about them?"

"No, not really, she never wanted to tell me anything really. I... once I thought about looking them up on the internet, but... I don't know their names, you know, their first names, and... well, Sullivan is... so common, there's a lot of Sullivans in the white pages. I'm not even sure what state they live in."

I gazed at the far wall. I remembered the linen closet photo vividly. Barb's mother wouldn't have put Lana in the foster care system. Something Lana just said had my wheels turning. I started to believe they had either threatened or told Barb they were going to take Lana away from her sans the foster care system, because of a different story I was remembering about her parents Barb had told me once when we were both half smashed at some bar. She said it was a couple months after she had finally gotten her high school diploma when her parents left her in the house alone for a week. 

They had been invited to some friends' cottage up in Wisconsin. She said they had surprised her coming home two days early. It had been really rainy at the cottage. She said her parents had walked in on her and her boyfriend of the time, asleep, drunk, naked in the living room. She said they had gotten really angry, she had never seen her father so angry, same for her mother.

When she had told that story, she never mentioned Lana. I hadn't even thought of Lana when she had told it. Maybe because she was talking about just graduating and even though I knew she had Lana before that, being half smashed at the time, I just didn't put Lana into my mental picture, especially since Barb didn't mention her. Where was Lana? I doubted Gramma and Grampa had taken her to the cottage. She must have been with Barb. 

Jeezuz... Barb might have forgotten all about Lana, maybe forgetting to feed her half the time, change her diaper, all that stuff. Her parents would have not only gone ballistic, they would have been scared as hell that something could have happened to Lana. They would have threatened, no, not threatened. They might have told her right then, they were going to take Lana away from her. 

That had to be it! Barb would have gotten angry, then pleaded they not do it, made all sorts of promises to never screw up like that again. And, then... and then the next day or so, she would have taken Lana and run away.

Jeezuz... that had to be it. At least something like that. They would never have disowned their innocent granddaughter. They might have said they were going to take Lana away from her, even legally, and maybe said they were going to sign commitment papers forcing Barb into rehab. Her parents disowning her and Lana didn't make sense at all, especially Lana. That woman in the photo would never have done that. 

I knew I was inventing a story, but it made sense, especially tying together both the getting caught and the disowning stories. My imagined scenario wasn't farfetched, it was very possible, especially the time frame. Jeezuz... why didn't I ask Barb about Lana when she told that story?

Lana looked at me. "What... what are you thinking about?"

I blinked. "Huh? Ahhh... nothing, sorry. I... I just zoned out for a second." 

I looked at Lana. Jeezuz... she had lived all her life thinking her grandparents threw her and Barb out, not caring about nor loving her, believing they would have shoved her into foster care if they had the chance. Jeezuz. 

I wondered if I should tell her what I now believed. Was it my place to tell her? Would she believe me? And she's right, it would be really difficult to find them. I remembered that Barb had told me she grew up in Ohio one time, another time she had said Iowa. I never gave it much thought. I now had a feeling it was somewhere in Illinois... or maybe around Milwaukee or St. Louis? It probably wasn't Wisconsin, but it had to be close enough to Wisconsin to drive there. She had said 'up there' too. We had talked about our childhoods, but she never mentioned the name of the town. Had I ever mentioned the name of the town I lived in when I was a kid? I must have, did she?

Lana raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Huh? Sorry. Still zoning out."

"Well... stop doing that." She smiled.

She looked incredible at that moment, like who the little girl in the photo was meant to be. I cupped her face with my palm and gazed into her pretty blue eyes. "You're really beautiful. Did you know that?"

Lana lightly blushed. "You don't have to say that."

I smiled. "Yeah, I think I do." I kissed her lips softly.





A Prison Break







A Prison Break



After the fake tears were wiped a few times, Lana started in on how she had tried and tried to get jobs, applied everywhere within walking distance and couldn't get anything, even at the fast food joints. She said that without her allowance it was going to be the summer from hell and what would she do in the fall? She'd never be able to do anything fun, or buy any clothes, or get little things that were really necessary. She'd never see any of her friends if she had no money. More faux tears started dropping from her eyelashes.

I stopped listening. A few minutes later I said was going outside to have a smoke. I had two cigs. When I got back to the visiting room, the crying had stopped. When I sat down at the table. Lana smiled at Barb and said she was going to get a drink of water since she didn't have any money for a snack.

Barb looked at me with intense eyes. "Give her some money for a soda and a snack."

My jaw clenched. I guess my eyes were intense too.

"Please, just a couple dollars."

My gut knotted again, but I pulled my wallet out and gave the little bitch two dollars.

Lana smiled at her mother. "Thanks, Mom." She gave me a smile too, a smug variation.

As soon as her hot, pouting apple ass swayed away, Barb started in on me.

"Maybe we shouldn't cut off her allowance. It is hard to get a job. I know. I've been through it all my life. I..."

The "we" really got me angry. I cut her off. "Barb, she's playing you, and you goddamn well know it. She's lying about everything. You know what really scares the hell out'a me?"

Her eyes teared a little. She knew I was telling the truth but she didn't want to believe me nor admit it. "What?"

"What if she walked in here, and told you I had a woman over, I was fucking some other woman, or... or even worse, what if she came in today and said I had assaulted her, raped her? She's your kid, not mine. You can believe her fucking bullshit all you want but I'm not going to fall for it. I'm being goddamn nice to your kid, I always have been, and all I get from her and all you get from her is that shit attitude. I'm not giving her an allowance this summer. I'm not doing that. I've told her and I'll tell you again, I'll pay for her food, the roof over her head, and I'm even going to pay for that community college in the fall. Without me, she'd be on her own right now. And what I said a moment ago? I do get scared she'll make up some damn bullshit about me, call the cops, tell you, whatever. I don't trust her."

"She wouldn't do that."

"Why not? She just lied through her teeth about last Sunday. I told her plainly you were going to call, that it would break your heart if she wasn't there to take the call. She was just an inconsiderate, self-absorbed, self-centered little bitch about it. I was going to take her out to dinner, a nice place, she told me to go to hell about that too. That was fine, but when she said screw your call, that really pissed me off."

"She... she's had a rough life. I... I haven't been... a... very good mother." Barb started crying. Her voice became high pitched and squeaky, "I made... m-made so many mistakes with her. So... s-so many other mistakes too."

"Yeah, and here I am dealing with one of your huge mistakes, you being in prison, but I'm not going to deal with eighteen years of your mistakes with Lana." 

Barb's crying turned into sobbing and I instantly felt like a total asshole. I hated it when I lost my temper, sometimes it just happened, I wouldn't even be aware it was boiling up. It just exploded and took possession of me. She bowed her head. She looked so much older and so damn pathetic at that moment. Her hands went up to her face, her palms covering it as she shook with more sobs. I reached for her arm. As soon as my fingertips made contact with her skin, she quickly turned to the side.

She squeaked, "Don't... touch me." She released a couple more loud sobs.

I had just been cruel to her. I knew she thought, and to a degree I also thought, that she was in prison because I had been so wasted that night. I knew with a couple less shots in me, and a couple more in her that night, I might be sitting in her chair and she in mine. I seriously doubted she'd be visiting me at this point though. I reached for her again, stroked her arm. She didn't pull away. "I'm sorry, Barb. I didn't mean to say that. I don't think that."

"Yes, you do."

"I shouldn't have said it if I do or not. Both of us have made big mistakes in our lives. At least you're getting dry in here. I'm trying but... hell, I'm off the wagon again. On-off, on-off. Listen, things will work out. Don't worry about it. Really, please don't worry."

"Are..." She wiped her eyes and nose with a paper napkin. "Are you going to give her an allowance?"

My jaw tightened for a moment. "No. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but no, I'm not. Barb, I'm broke, we're broke. When I was a kid, from the time I was fifteen, I always had a summer job, right through college. She hasn't applied for any jobs. I'm not giving her money to blow. If she doesn't want to work at least part-time for spending money, she can just stay at home and watch TV or surf the internet. I don't tell her not to have her friends over. She can do that."

"She's ashamed of the house."

"Hell... it's better place than my parents' house." 

I didn't want to breech that subject. I was thinking of getting a smaller place, maybe an apartment. The house wasn't the greatest nor the worst in a fairly shitty part of town, but I thought the rent was high for what we got for it. The problem was we had just signed a new three year lease a couple months before the accident. I knew I'd probably lose the security deposit if we moved. Plus I really didn't feel like apartment hunting. 

I exhaled. "Look... when she starts community college in the fall, I'll... you and I will talk about the allowance thing again, but if you mention one word about it to her, I won't ever give her an allowance, and I'm not saying I will in the fall, just that you and I will talk about it again."

She blinked a few times. "Are you sure you won't at least give her..."

I interrupted quickly, "Barb, I'm not giving her spending money. I told her months ago she'd not be getting an allowance after she graduated, and she'd need a job this summer. I told you months ago the same things. In fact it was last fall we talked to her about getting a job."

Barb blew her nose. "All right." She took another napkin and wiped her eyes. "She didn't say, did she like the sun dress? Was I right about the size?"

I didn't want to tell her. Barb had told me to put a gift receipt in the box in case it didn't fit. I thought it was an incredibly stupid gift. I had never seen Lana wear anything close to it, but Barb said that she'd be graduated and would hopefully change her style, start acting more like an adult. I knew that was a wishful prison fantasy. I had given it to Lana on Monday evening. She had ripped open the envelope not to read the card but to see if there was any cash in it, then ripped open the gift wrapped box, frowned, and then in a snotty tone asked me if I had kept the receipt. 

I told her it was in the box under the tissue paper. She tossed the dress on the couch, and got the receipt. She said it didn't say how much it cost on it. I told her it was a gift receipt. She asked how much she'd get when she returned it. I just told her she'd have to wait to find out. I was really angry about it all. She glared at me, grabbed the dress, then the box and went to her room. The wrapping paper was still in the living room, on the floor. 

On my way home from the graduation ceremony, I had decided not to give Lana the three gift wrapped novels I had gotten her. Barb had been right, Lana would have thought they were a ridiculous gift. They were still sitting on the shelf in the bedroom closet.

"I guess it didn't fit. She said she was going to returned it."

"Did they have her correct size, or did she get something else?"

"I don't know. I guess you could ask her."

Lana walked up. She had a bag of tortilla chips and a soda She sat down. She didn't offer any chips to her mother or me. "So... did you two have some time to talk?"

Barb sighed. "You... you should try harder to find some summer job, honey. Maybe..."

Lana broke in, "I told you, no place is hiring!"

An expression of defeat, maybe despair washed across Barb's face and for a few moments she looked ten years older again.

Barb's voice was soft, "Just keep trying, honey."

"I can't. I don't have a car. I can't get around town to even apply for jobs."

I spoke, "There's the county bus line. One stops six blocks from the house that goes to the big mall. I'll buy you a ten pack of tokens."

"I don't wanna ride the bus. Only dweebs and old people ride that bus."

Barb continued the soft toned voice, "Honey, you should take the tokens. We're... trying to be helpful."

Lana's jaw clenched as she glared at her mother. Her mouth opened and then she rethought whatever she was about to say. She slumped lower in the plastic chair, her arms folded over her chest as she looked towards the barred and cyclone fence covered windows of the cafeteria. 

When the visitation period was over, and Barb hugged her daughter, Lana's body was limp in the hug. She just said "Bye" to her mother without even looking at her. I kissed Barb who was on the verge of tears again. I hugged her and told her not to worry, things would work out. 

Of course I didn't believe that. During the last part of the visit I was again silently cursing myself for ever signing the damn guardian papers. I figured I'd probably be paying for a divorce lawyer soon. Maybe not. That would take a some initiative, energy, some actual caring, and I used all my energy and any "giving a damn" I could muster to keep my job, in other words, to stay sober on my job. I was going with the flow, or maybe I really didn't want a divorce. Sometimes Barb and I did have a good time together. Sometimes even when we had been sober. And, although no one could tell with her in the prison jumpsuit, she had a very hot bod. Maybe I'd just think about it.

Near the half way point of the drive back, I was hungry, with a taste for greasy spoon food. I remembered a truckstop, about fifty minutes from the house, somewhat seedy but right off the interstate, easy off, easy on. I didn't want to stop for fast food which Lana might have enjoyed. I had gone there a handful of times a couple years ago when I was working on a job out this way, mostly for breakfast, but for dinner twice when we worked overtime. It was about twenty miles ahead. 

I took a slow breath. "You hungry?" I glanced her slender legs. My balls were turning blue again. Lana waited almost a minute to reply.

"Yeah, but I don't have any money."

I actually smiled, well, a half smile. "Don't worry. My treat."

She didn't say anything more and neither did I until I turned into the semi-trailer crowded parking lot.

Her face scrinched up. "We're stopping here? Why not like a Burger King or something? Didn't you see that one just down the road?"

"Home cooking here." I smiled again. Sometimes I just had a craving for greasy spoon food. Breakfasts were always the best, but anytime was all right when the urge hit.

I wasn't able to park very close to the entrance. We got out of my pickup and headed to the doors. A woman, maybe thirty, looking the worse for wear, dressed nearly exactly like Lana, miniskirt and tank top, sans the shitkickers, was smoking a cigarette standing at the corner of the building out of sight from the windows. As we made our way to the doors, she looked at Lana for a few moments, then at me. 

She smiled. "Hey, honey, how are you today?"

I nodded and smiled. "Fine. You havin' a good day?"

"Could be better." Her smile stayed in place as her eyes somewhat glared at Lana.

"Well, hope you have a better one."

As we approached the doors, Lana asked, "Do you know that woman?"

I grinned. "No, never saw her before."

Lana noticed the sign in the window--