Dear Minxy

Hey Minxy,

I got your letter the other day and you know it feels good to get actual letters. Pieces of paper that arrive in your mail box (well at my office the mail man drops it off on your desk, its fucking boss) but actual pieces of paper not emails, not IMs and not phone calls. Don't get me wrong there is nothing wrong with an email or an IM and I can't wait until you are in a position where you can sit there an email me back and forth on a daily basis. I can't wait. IT doesn't change the fact that I'm enjoying getting actual paper mail once in a while. It's a shame that it took you getting sent to prison to get us into the habit of writing to each other with pen and paper, well you with pen and paper. You've seen my hand writing it's so atrocious they'd probably lock me up right a long side you if they ever got their hands on something I'd written with my own paws. I mean it's utterly undecipherable and so it has to be some kind of code for how to break you out.

You know I had a dream the other day where I got to do just that. It was one of those weird dreams, the kind that make perfect sense when they are happening but once you're awake you start realizing some of the crazy shit that was going through your head. Like you weren't in Washington, you'd been moved the Alcatraz which had just been reopened. Kitten (my ex girlfriend encase you forgot) was also there for the murder of her husband. (yeah I might have been fantasizing a little) a couple of the girls from the Marines were there with you too. Apparently Alcatraz has the same basic layout as my old middle school as well, which is kinda funny cus that place didn't even kinda look like a prison my middle school was one of the very few in LA that didn't have a gate around them. While I'm on that subject have you ever noticed how much like prisons our schools are designed? I mean you put all the shit at one end, force feed some people through a cafeteria and then there is a big open yard for exercise. It's kinda spooky, especially when you think about the inner city schools. It's like we're getting them used to the concept of being fenced it as early as possible because . . . well it's gonna happen anyway isn't it?

I'm sorry I was starting to digress and I want to get to the good juicy parts of the story. I mean that's where all the goodness takes place so I want to get to it. Anyway me and my friend Lawrence (who I haven't seen in close to a decade) planned the escape. It was pretty awesome, I know it involved scuba gear and coming into The Rock via some underground underwater caverns that I heard about on a show called Cities of the Underworld. (Yes I'm fully aware that I should watch less nerd shit, I also shouldn't drink and eat week old spaghetti apparently it give you crazy ideas.)

Anyway it was his job to distract the guards with this great big operation that involved stealing a helicopter, it didn't' really involve me it was just something to keep the guards extra busy and that was where he exited my dream which was sad. I don't know if he lived through it or not. I got to you and Kitten without much trouble and even though Kitten begged me to bring her with us I left her behind. See I can choose you. Anyway we got out of there by sharing the oxygen tank and making out way to a small boat. We took that boat out to a small island.

Have I told you lately that I think you're beautiful? I mean really and truly stunning, not just pretty. I mean even in that bright orange jump suit they put you in I could still see myself tearing it open to get at your breasts. I can hear your moans as my lips move over your flesh, exploring, tasting, feasting on your neck, you breasts, your nipples, all the way down to your naval. I'd strip you out of the suit slowly, my lips the first thing your newly exposed flesh would experience all the way down your thighs, your calves, the backs of your knees, even the tops of your feet until I had you nude.

I pushed you down into the wet sand and laid on top of you, pinning you down as I wriggled free of my own clothing. I remember that lust in your eyes, it wasn't even human. I thought you were going to devour me but somehow you managed to wait until I had gotten undressed. You were so wet, I could smell it. That particular memory still stands out in my mind. I remember that you smelled faintly of strawberries along with that tangy smell that women get when they are really excited. You didn't even let me taste the pie; you just guided me into that tight wet hole and started grinding up against me.

You fucked the shit out of me, tore my shoulders to hell with your nails, dug your heels into my back so hard it hurt and just bucked against me. Over the rest of the night you dragged me through every position, your tits are amazing in the cowgirl, I hope to try that with you soon. (hey when you do you start getting conjical . . . congecal. . . ok you know visits where you get to have sex?) We tore that beach up, when I was fucking you from behind you were digging little troughs in the sand each time I thrust into you and they were filling and emptying with the waves. It was amazing.

I must have come three times that night (at least once for real as I realized in the morning. Waking up sticky is kinda gross, but at the moment it just reminded me of you. Reminded me of how you made me cum. You grabbed my face and kissed me as hard as you could and you told me it was time for me cum. To fill you up with my juices. IT was time to make you mine. It was amazing. You are amazing.

I'd go on for a bit but I think you've got the picture and you're probably cleaning up. Either that or trying to keep nice and quiet so you're Bunkie doesn't rat out. I can't believe the put you in solitary for masturbating. Ain't that a bitch. Bet the guys have all the fun in the world with you when that happens. J/k.

Sean Renaud