A loud noise wakes you. You walk down the hall and the window is amiss. Looking around you find some wet footprints. Following the footprints through hall you find a pile of wet muddy clothes. Picking up the pile you see a bra fall to the floor.
You follow the muddy prints to the bathroom. The shower is running; steam bellows out of a crack between the door and the frame. Opening the door you see a most feminine form scrubbing her body. Walking closer, you see she startles from your sudden appearance. Asking who she is, you find her sobbing. "I have broken out of jail", she confesses. You offer her a towel, and she steps out and wraps her lean body; you try to look away, but you catch her image in the steam stained mirror. Walking down the hall, toward the den, she explains that she was being raped by the prison guards: she couldn't take it any more. Consoling her, you bring her a shirt from your bedroom. You leave her to get dressed; going down the hall you fix some coffee. Returning soon, you find her with your shirt on, cuddled against an oversized sofa.
Sitting down, you begin a conversation about the escape. She tells you that she shimmied down a pipe after managing to pry a few bars from her window. "It was simple after that," she says. "Being a minimum security prison, there wasn't many outside obstacles," she told you as she yawned slightly. Yawning and stretching, you see her shirt raise up revealing her soft supple stomach. Not meaning to stare, you realize that she is looking intently upon a bulge growing in your boxers. Feeling slightly embarrassed you start to adjust yourself: then she reaches out and grabs your neck.
Startled slightly, you look at her and can't help but to notice her nipples hardening slightly under your cotton t-shirt. You feel her pulling your neck gently, and at first you begin to resist. Questioning sanity, you start to pull away, but then you smell her feminine body and you stop resisting. In an instant you feel the heat of her lips against yours. The heat of her lips and the warmth of her hand makes you melt into her will. All confusion is gone, you loose sense of right or wrong, and you no longer question the night: you simply melt with the warmth and the erotic charge of electricity that has made your hormones flow effortlessly through your body.