Chapter 6

Bill was pounding away in Alison on his cot by candlelight. They knew each other well by now, and he knew she would be orgasming soon. He gave his lusty grin before closing his eyes and fucking into his mate even more insistently. A noise close by made him freeze, and then a figure was outside his cell, flashlight beam playing over him and Alison.

"What the hell?" asked Amy. "How did you get her in there with you? Who is it? Oh, Alison. Are you OK? You'll let her go, right Bill?"

The two lovers sat on the cot, sharing the blanket for modesty.

"You won't tell, right?" said Alison. "I swear this was all my idea."

"That's a really stupid thing to do. He could just walk out of here! And maybe slit your throat and dump you in the woods. And just to get fucked?"

"It's not like that!" said Alison hotly, getting up and turning away from Amy as she dressed quickly. Bill dressed too.

"Um, I know fucking when I see it."

"I mean it's more than that." Alison threw her arms around Bill and they shared a fierce hug. Bill hoped it wouldn't be the last hug of his life.

Amy said, "I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you'd come out of there." She didn't need to add that she would lock Bill in.

"I don't see why we can't talk this way," said Alison.

"It's OK," Bill said to her. "One step at a time."

When the two women were in the hallway and Bill locked inside, Amy relaxed visibly.

"Barbara said that one night with her insomnia she saw someone coming out of the police station around 4am. So I figured I ought to investigate. I waited upstairs last night."

"So, you're not going to tell, are you?" asked Alison.

"I should. If I don't, I'll be failing in my duty to the community."

Bill cleared his throat. "I imagine they'd want to know everything that's been going on," he said, slightly emphasizing the 'everything'.

Amy saw his point immediately and sighed. "OK, so maybe I don't have to report you. But first of all, the key."

"What key?" asked Alison.

Amy pointed to the locked door. "Or are you a master lock-picker?"

Alison hesitated a moment, then produced the key from her pants pocket and handed it over.

"Where did you get it?"

"From the drawer upstairs."

"That drawer is always locked."

"Apparently not always," Alison said.

Amy sighed. "OK, so this is over. No more visits."

"No!" said Alison.

"No more visits from anyone?" asked Bill.

Amy looked at Alison and then back at Bill.

"She knows," said Bill.

"Right, not from anyone."

"That's not fair," said Alison. "I love him!"

Amy switched to fully official mode. "Communicating with men beyond the minimum necessary is forbidden. Fraternizing is forbidden. Sexual activity is forbidden." She frowned at that point, realizing she was guilty -- very guilty. "Playing cards is forbidden. Breaching security is forbidden. And falling in love is most definitely forbidden. It is an insult to the very heart of Dworkinism, a re-emergence of one of the most corrupting institutions of the patriarchy."

"Dworkinism is full of shit," said Alison hotly.

"I think that's an opinion you'd better keep to yourself," answered Amy, the threat in her tone unmistakable. "From now on we all play by the rules."

Alison volunteered to fetch Bill's dinner bowl after he was done eating, and the kitchen woman assigned that task was delighted to be free of the job. Amy would probably not have allowed it if she had known, but it wasn't against any policies.

"I miss you so much!" whispered Alison.

"Me too!"

The two lovers kissed, and hands passed through the bars in both directions to fondle and caress.

"If only we could..." lamented Alison, wiggling her hips.

"Well, there is that old method."

"I'd like that so much!" said Alison. "But when?"

"I've got to give a sample tomorrow, and Amy is looking at it very carefully now. But some day when I don't have to..."

"We could just do it really quick? No one comes down here after supper -- or hardly ever, right?"

Bill nodded eagerly. "It's a risk, but..." The hunger in his eyes said everything.

Several days later, Alison stopped in front of Bill's cell, right hand down the front of her pants, wiggling. She glanced at the bulge in his pants, and raised her eyebrows. Bill nodded.

Alison quickly dropped her pants and panties to mid-thigh and got on hands and knees, pressing back against the bars. Bill pulled down his sweats to mid-thigh, maneuvered behind her and pushed. He glided in smoothly, and after ten quick strokes he came, pulsing seed into his forbidden love. Both were completely silent. As his penis slid out he pulled his pants up. Alison rose and similarly put herself together. They both listened again but heard no sign of an impending interruption.

Bill motioned her to stand right by the bars and worked his hand down the front of her panties. The wetness from their coupling was apparent around her opening, but he focused on her clitoris and stroked, gentle but strong.

They kissed while he stroked, but then she pulled her face away, held the bars, and shut her eyes. Seconds later her face contorted and she shuddered, still soundless. When she had her balance back, she kissed him briefly and started up the stairs.

Bill hastily picked up his dinner bowl and tapped on it.

Alison heard, returned, and with a grin and a slap to her forehead took it and disappeared.

Bill's life returned to its former routine. His utterly miserable former routine, he realized. No women visited him in the evening. There were no real hugs, no card games, and no lounging on his cot with Alison. Their exciting and dangerous brief couplings were the highlight of his life, but the frustration was almost as intense as the joy. He missed so much just hearing her talk in leisurely fashion about everything going on in her life -- with her housemates, the furniture shop, or the vegetables. She did sneak him a treat from time to time -- a cucumber, a few grapes, a piece of chocolate.