In The Slammer Ch. 02

After supper, they took us for showers in groups of six. They gave the girls disposable razors to shave their legs. I took one too to see what I could do about the stubble on my face. Hound Dog arranged us two per shower head and kept a pretty close watch. I guess she wanted to make sure that nobody tried to slit anybody's throat with their disposable razor.

The two girls from across the hall, the silly ones who were always bumping into me in line, were in our group. Their names were Hankie and Patty, but everyone called them Hank and Pank. As we were coming in, Hank ran up to me and yanked on my cock. Then she dashed over to her shower head, giggling with Pank as if it had been the funniest thing in the world.

I was getting a bit fed up with the two of them. So I hitched up my chest and stomped over to their shower head. They were surprised to see me coming. I plodded straight through the falling water, only stopping a half step short of mashing Hank into the wall. My face was glaring, my chest steaming, my balls dripping. It seemed to make an impression. She wasn't giggling now.

I could have played it tough, but there really wasn't any need. She looked like somebody's skinny little sister. "Look," I said, glaring down at her. "I don't think you'd like it if I did that kind of stuff to you, and I don't like it when you do it to me. So I'm asking you to stop."

I waited for some kind of response, but she was too scared to move.

"OK?" I bellowed.

"OK," she mewed.

"OK then." I went back to the other shower head.

There wasn't any shaving cream of course, only soap. And there wasn't any mirror. I had to shave by memory and then feel around to see if I'd missed anything.

Dolores was shaving her legs. She held her pussy out of the way to reach the tops of her thighs. Then she bent over to do her shins and calves. Her buns were smooth and tight, her legs trim and shapely.

Everybody thought I was banging her. They saw the two of us go into our cell together every night, and they couldn't imagine any other scenario. The fact that she never said anything one way or the other only served to confirm it in their minds.

If it had been up to me, we probably would have been. The Department of Corrections doesn't give you much, the least you can do is take advantage when they do. If two people in our situation were able to come to some mutual understanding about scratching each other's backs, more power to them.

But Dolores didn't seem to see it that way. As far as she was concerned, we were just roommates. We owed each other a little basic courtesy, but that was it. If we'd been on the outside, just being apartment mates wouldn't have entitled us to any special benefits. Why should things be different on the inside? The fact that we had to sleep together naked was beside the point. If one's sense of propriety wasn't strong enough to hold up against something like that, then it wasn't very strong at all. She never said any of this in so many words, but this is the sense I got. I couldn't really argue with it.

They took us back to our cell. We had an extra hour before lights out. We got into the bunk. We played twenty questions for a while. We talked about stuff we used to do when we were kids. We stared at our respective walls. We played another round of twenty questions. Things cellmates do to pass time in the slammer.

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A couple evenings later it was so cold you could see your breath in the hallway. By the time they buzzed the doors open everyone was shivering. Dolores and I got straight in under the blankets. But it was too cold to sleep back to back. I turned around and spooned against her icy body. Then she turned around too, and we hugged each other for warmth. I put my arm around her back and pulled her close up against me so there wouldn't be even a chink in the blankets. Her breasts were jammed against my chest. Her leg was wedged in between mine.

After a while we stopped shivering. The blankets warmed up. Things got more comfortable. You know how it is when you're lying in front of the fire, and everything has gotten all snug and cozy, and you're sort of paralyzed by the delicious equilibrium. Neither of us made any effort to disentangle ourselves. When my dick started to stiffen, I rolled my hips back slightly to lift it away from her thigh. She put her head up onto the pillow so that her breasts were no longer touching my chest. But we didn't really release our embrace. Our legs were still intertwined. Our equilibrium remained intact.

I found myself looking at her eyes looking back at mine. It struck me that even though there wasn't a single sound or movement in the room, the inside of her head was just as alive with thoughts and feelings as mine was. There was a whole world in there, as vivid to her as mine was to me. What was it like, behind those eyes? The two of us were like two iron-plated bathyscaphes who had clunked into each other at the bottom of the ocean. I could vaguely make her out through the thick, silent glass, but I could never really know what it was like to be her, all warm and alive there inside her comfy cabin on the other side of that thick iron hull.

But that got me to wondering. All those thoughts and feelings inside our heads are conducted by electrical impulses, right? And those impulses must send off waves of one sort or another. And those waves must radiate out, at least to some extent. And so if we were lying close enough together, wouldn't our waves overlap? And don't waves that overlap tend to pull on each other and synchronize with each other? In fact, wouldn't they necessarily merge into a single wave? But if there was only a single wave, wouldn't that mean that the two of us would be feeling exactly the same thing? In fact, you couldn't even talk about two separate feelings any more. There would just be one single feeling that the two of us would be sharing. One milkshake, two straws.

I felt as sure as I've ever felt about anything in my life that the exact same feeling of cozy togetherness that was washing over me was washing over both of us. One single shared feeling resonating back and forth between us, allowing us, for at least a moment, to experience directly what the other was experiencing. Allowing us to visit a while inside each other's bathyscaphes. To warm ourselves at the same fire, to cuddle together on the same davenport, wrapped in the same afghan, safe inside the same iron hull.