She told me that she rarely drank, as it was not advised with her thyroid medication. But for a change, hotel wine was not bad at all! We agreed we were both as nervous as first date teenagers and it was ridiculous! Shortly, she sat straight, looked me in the eye, and said, 'Shall we see what fun we two old fools can have then? We went to the room and I undressed quickly. I helped her remove her boots. She quietly removed her clothes, and slipped under the covers. The sheets were cold and we just smiled into each others' eyes as our hands lightly caressed our bodies as the bed warmed. I told her how relieved I was that she was not a serial killer, and she joked that I shouldn't be too sure yet! We lightly kissed, then grew more aggressive, passionately bruising our lips on each other, as our resistance caved in, and we pulled our bodies tight to each other. As her hands ran down my back, I kissed her neck and throat. She moaned with pleasure, and writhed slightly. My hands explored. I was innocent, but for the moment, it didn’t matter. I was less than nothing-I was a prisoner getting what he deserved. At least, in their eyes. My handcuffs were removed after I was locked onto the squad chain, and a trusty placed a pickaxe at my feet. ‘Pick em up’ said the Boss, and we began to work, clearing a thicket of weeds and brush from a roadside culvert. It was brutal toiling in the blazing heat of high summer, with the brush poking and prodding and scraping at your skin, under the watchful gaze and shotguns of the guards. It was hard keeping up with the other prisoners, which was called ‘keeping the lick.’ I had to push myself to avoid falling behind, because I could only guess what kind of punishments were given to those who failed to keep up. About every hour the trusty gave us a ladle-full of water, for which we were all very grateful. The work was along the main road into town, and suddenly I understood one of the primary reasons why the punishment detail was sent.
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