The Prosecuting Attorney Ch. 02

"Are you sure?" I said, still not convinced.

"Oh Yeah." Lindsay said and she smiled. Upon seeing her smile, I felt relief.

"Come here." She continued.

Lindsay pulled me down to my knees by my wrist and she had me straddle her lap. Lindsay's respiration was returning to normal and she wrapped her arms tightly around me, mashing our tits tightly together. We gazed into each other's eyes.

"I've never had anybody love me so hard before in my life." Lindsay whispered.

"What can I say? I just can't get enough of you." I whispered back.

"Yeah, I noticed." Lindsay smiled and she kissed me on the forehead and then on the nose.

"I love you so much." I told her.

"I'll bet you I love you more." She replied.

We both giggled.

"Kiss me." Lindsay whispered.

Our lips came together, our mouths opened and sealed airlock tight around each other. Lindsay let her embrace around me loosen slightly and I reveled in the sensation of her fingernails grazing gently all over the wet skin of my back. I pulled her up and away from the wall and reciprocated her loving embrace. Again our kiss was so deep that we had to breathe each other's air and could taste each other's souls.

I don't know how long we kissed and cuddled on the shower floor, but when I'm with Lindsay, time doesn't exist. The warm water finally ran out and our naked bodies were soon being pelted by virtual ice cubes. I got to my feet, shut off the water and helped Lindsay up. With all the self restraint we could muster, we counted to three and as per our plan, I literally jumped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and dashed out of the bathroom. Lindsay then got out of the shower, closed and locked the bathroom door in order to put a barrier between us so we could dry off and dress. Neither of us had eaten in over twenty-four hours and given the tremendous amount of energy we had been expending, could easily drop dead at any moment.

I dried off quickly and slipped on my favorite jeans, a tattered old Miami Dolphins sweatshirt over a Jacksonville Jaguars sports bra. I slipped on my favorite pair of converse athletic shoes, bright orange, and toped it all off with a Tampa Bay Buccaneers ball cap. Hey, I love football and I love Florida; go figure! I heard my hair dryer running in the bathroom as I dressed and images of Lindsay's silky blonde hair whipping around her beautiful face set fire to my already aching loins. I shook my head and flung open the balcony door. The cool December air flooded over me as I stepped out onto the tiny concrete slab and I was able to force the images from my mind. However, when Lindsay emerged from the bathroom, she was dressed in the evening gown she had worn the night before. Even though it had been crumpled up in a ball on my bathroom floor and steamed to death, it still looked stunning on my beautiful goddess of love. She had even put the arm length gloves back on and looked like a runway model as she strutted seductively across the room toward me. Now we were Beauty and the Beast, and the Beast was immediately beginning to salivate at the sight of her stunning Beauty.

"Stop!" I ordered.

"What's the matter?" Lindsay queried playfully.

"We're never going to make it past the front door with you dressed like that." I replied.

"What, you don't like what you see? Fine, I guess I'll just have to take it off." Lindsay hissed.

"Don't even think about it, you little tease. You do that and will both be dead of sex exhaustion before morning." I jabbed.

"Sex exhaustion?" Lindsay giggled.

"Yeah. You like that?" I asked.

"Can't think of a better way to die." She replied.

"Me neither. But just in case God really does have a problem with gays and lesbians, I'd rather not risk never getting to fuck you again just yet." I said.

"Gee, I think that's the most romantic thing anybody's ever said to me." Lindsay said.

"My car keys are on my dresser. Wait ten minutes and then drive down and meet me at the Wal-Mart on the corner, okay?" I told her.

"What are you up to?" She asked.

"You'll see." I blew her a kiss. "I love you."

And with that, I climbed over the balcony railing, jumped into the old fur tree beside it and climbed down to the cobblestone walkway below.

Fifteen minutes later, Lindsay pulled up in my car outside the Wal-Mart down the street from my apartment complex just as I was coming out with a bag of clothing. I tossed the bag in the passenger seat and told her to change while I waited outside.

"Don't you wanna watch?" Lindsay teased.

"Girl, you are insatiable! God I love you!" I replied.

Sucking down two cigarettes in the parking lot as I waited, Lindsay definitely took her time changing. Pacing back and forth like an expectant father, I finally decided to call my AA sponsor to try and take my mind off of the sexual delights lying just beyond that car door. When my sponsor picked up, I immediately went to bragging like a horny teenage boy who just nailed the hottest teacher in school. Knowing her history about as well as she knew mine, I knew that my sponsor wasn't exactly conservative when it came to sex. But much to my surprise, she wasn't nearly as receptive as I thought she'd be. She kept asking me the same question:

"Okay, but where is God in all this?"

"What's that got to do with it?" I demanded. "The Big Book says that our sex powers are God given and therefore good."

I prided myself on being able to quote the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" at the drop of a pin in any given situation. But after about the fourth time she asked me the question, I was really starting to get pissed. Lindsay was my first lay since I got out of prison nearly three years ago. My sponsor then added that that fact alone was all the more reason to consider her question.

"Lindsay Whitmore has been the desire of my heart pretty much since the day I first laid eyes on her in that court room." I explained.

"What about Marta?" My sponsor asked.

"You know damn well that she told me that I would have to leave the past behind and find a new love in the real world." I snapped.

"Yes, I do." My sponsor replied. "I just want to be sure that what you're feeling for Lindsay is love."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I snarled.

"Sounds a lot more like lust to me." She replied softly.

"And isn't lust just as necessary?" I snapped.

"It is." She said. "Provided it's kept in prospective and not abused to the extreme. I mean, from what you've told me about Lindsay over the past few months, she sounds like a wonderful person and you seem to care genuinely for her as a friend."

"Well isn't that what love is? Friendship set on fire?" I asked.

"Yeah. But there's a lot more to love than just swapping sweat, spit and semen every night." She offered rather harshly.

"This from a woman who has swapped more sweat, spit and semen than the entire cast of Sex in the City!" I replied.

"Look Hailey, you're the one that called me here, okay? And you should know by now that if you don't want my answers then don't ask me the question."

"I didn't ask the question. You did." I growled.

"Honey, all I'm saying is that you need to be careful. Lust is a very deceptive and very powerful force. It seduces us with limitless pleasure, blinds us to the truth and then like a boomerang in flight, turns on us and all but tears our lives to shreds." She pleaded.

"I love her!" I reiterated firmly.

"Then I guess you're gonna be renting a U-haul tomorrow, huh? Best way to tell when an alcoholic is on their second date." She jabbed.

"Fuck you!" I roared and I hung up.

I jammed my phone into my pocket and lit another cigarette as I fumed. What the fuck does she know about love and relationships? Christ, she's been married five times and she's not even fifty years old yet. I might as well be asking a catholic priest for tips on my sex life. Oops, bad analogy. Sorry!

Lindsay finally emerged from the car wearing baby blue sweatpants and matching jacket, a white "Bebe" T-shirt and a pair of white keds tennis shoes I'd bought for her, she looked absolutely adorable. In fact she looked even more appealing in that outfit than she did in her evening gown. Lindsay took the cigarette out of my hand, took a deep drag and flicked it away. She then took my hat off my head and placed it on her own, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me deeply. I let my hands run down the soft fabric of her jacket and into the tight crack of her ass and right cheek. It was then that my sponsors' voice began thundering through my mind and I suddenly found myself absolutely infuriated. Like the saying goes, "The truth shall set you free, but it's probably gonna really piss you off first." And just like she had done countless times before, my sponsor had called me on my shit and done what she was supposed to do: got me to look at something from an entirely different angle, if only for a moment. As I felt Lindsay's body pressed up against me and her tongue was thrashing around deep inside my mouth, I found myself asking the question:

"Is there more to my affection for Lindsay than just physical lust and carnal attraction?"

I slipped out of our kiss and just gazed deeply into Lindsay's eyes.

"Something the matter?" She asked almost innocently.

"We've got to eat or we're not gonna make it till morning." I said.

Lindsay and I went to one of the most popular pizzerias in Miami and gorged on the unlimited buffet and free drink refills. I could literally feel all by battery cells recharging with every swallow. Taking Lindsay home, she spent the entire drive nibbling on my neck and ears, fondling my breasts and fingering my pussy as I drove. At one point, she dropped her head into my lap, unbuttoned my jeans and tried to give me head. I tried so hard to enjoy her affection, but I was by now far too busy mind-fucking myself over the questions that my sponsor had raised. Was I in love with Lindsay or just in lust with her? In fact I was so off in my head that I barely heard her say with her head in my lap:

"You know, this is so much easier with a man."

I dropped Lindsay off at her apartment building downtown and of course, she invited me to stay with her; actually she practically ordered me to stay and then even tried to tongue rape me into it, but I just couldn't. I was completely exhausted, my body ached and now with an over-stuffed tummy, I could barely keep my eyes open. After a long kiss goodnight, I hopped back in my car and sped off, lighting up the tires as I peeled out. I don't think I even returned Lindsay's "I love you." I sped through the streets and cursed my sponsor to the depths of hell for placing this doubt in my mind. But then again, if there was no truth to it at all, then why is it bothering me so much?

Even after changing the sheets, flipping the mattress and leaving the balcony door open, the smell of sex was still overpowering in my tiny apartment. It got me so hot and I couldn't keep my hands off myself; I was soon cursing myself to the depths of hell for not staying with Lindsay. I could be all over her right now instead of all over myself. I tossed and turned for hours as my mind did battle with itself along with my heart and my soul. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Lindsay's beautiful naked body and then I would hear my sponsor's voice saying things that she hadn't even said yet concerning mine and Lindsay's relationship. I argued with my sponsor so many times without her ever even being there and it finally dawned on me tonight that the real problem wasn't her, but me.

I guess I was finally able to fall asleep because the next thing I was aware of it was daylight and a warm breeze was blowing in through the open balcony door. Glancing at the clock, it was just after eleven in the morning and I was due to be at work at one. I took a shower, washed my hair and got dressed. As I headed out my front door to work, I nearly tripped over a breathtakingly beautiful arrangement of 72 roses that was sitting on my doormat. It was so meticulously arranged with all the trimmings and the vase was crystal. The card was encased in a darling little envelope covered with hearts and it was scented with Lindsay's perfume. Upon reading the card, my knees buckled and my legs turned instantly to Jell-O, along with the rest of my body. My heart thumped so hard and fast that I half expected to see a protruding indention of it through my skin. A huge lump lodged in my throat and tears were racing down my cheeks, smearing my fresh mascara.

"My darling Hailey: My angel and my light. You credited me with saving your life and in return, you saved mine. I never knew I could love someone so much, especially another woman. I thought that the capacity to love and be loved was a part of me that was lost forever, but you have ignited my heart, resurrected my soul and given my life purpose. You are the most beautiful creature ever to be put on this Earth and where I've often doubted and even not believed, I know now that God loves me deeply, for he has given me a treasure more precious than gold. He has given me you, to have and to hold. I love you with all my heart. Lindsay."

I had to leave my car at home and take the bus for I couldn't stop crying the entire trip to work. I took the card with me and showed it to the countless people who ended up asking if I was okay as I sat balling on the bus. If only Lindsay could know how many lives she touched that day with her beautiful message. I got to work and was immediately overrun by concerned co-workers who saw how distraught I was. Showing them the card, they too were exceptionally moved by Lindsay's profession of love for me. Well, everyone except Zack; the nineteen year old wannabe gangster and juvenile delinquent who was manning the drive-thru window when I arrived. Zack had been working at the coffee shop for about six months and was constantly flirting with me. Now I have to admit that despite his wise guy attitude and overall lack of ambition, Zack was everything a young, heterosexual girl would and should be looking for in a guy. He stood a good 6'2", had a very lean and muscular build, dark brown hair and deeply embedded brown eyes to match. His voice was gravly and deep, but had a faint hint of sensuality and sexiness. Being very self-confident, Zack often came off as cocksure, even blatantly arrogant from time to time, but I have always believed that confidence is very sexy. And despite the fact that I was his boss, he was not at all dissuaded from flirting with me and that only proved my theory. As far as his job performance, he was very professional, polite, arrived early and stayed late. He was very self-sufficient, had a commanding presence and was extremely dependable under pressure. Had I been a heterosexual woman and he been at least ten years older, I might actually consider going out with him. In fact, he did ask me out at one point and I politely declined, sighting my reasons that I was his boss and that I was also eleven years older than him. When he wouldn't take no for an answer, I had no choice but to tell him I was a lesbian.

"So am I. Hey, every straight guy is." He boasted in reply.

After a little more playful haggling, Zack finally backed off and told me that it was a terrible shame and a waste that a chick as hot as me was a lesbian. I was almost touched.

But despite my telling him that I was gay, Zack continued to flirt with me and proclaimed that he could fix me. I was never bashful about my lesbianism, for I'd known that I was gay since I was eleven years old and had openly stated that I had never been with a man sexually, nor had I any desire to. But the fact that I was a lesbian only seemed to inspire him to pursue me and I found it adorably charming. But he never made any serious advances other than just goofing around the shop and flirtatious conversation. But now suddenly that I had a serious admirer; something that I had never had for as long as I'd known Zack, I got the impression that he was jealous. It was rather flattering.

I spent the day at work telling the three other girls on my shift as well as several of my regular customers the story of my incredible weekend with Lindsay Whitmore. Most all of them already knew the back story from ten years ago and then how we had become friends, so they all thought it was really beautiful how we'd now gone to the next level. Everyone kept telling me that they were so happy for me. That I was a beautiful girl, both outside and in, and that I deserved to have someone as special as Lindsay in my life. I wasn't the least bit bashful or reserved about the hot details and when I collected my tips at the end of the shift, they were higher than any other single day I'd ever had at the place. Now, I'll admit that I had ulterior motives for telling the story over and over; mainly to convince myself that what Lindsay and I were sharing was the real thing and to build up lots of ammunition to fire at my sponsor.

My shift ended at six and I took the afternoon till into the office for the close out and shift end report. Like clockwork, the private house phone line in the office rang at six-fifteen on the dot. Since I had no landline phone at home and cell phones were unable to connect, the general manager of the coffee shop was kind enough to allow Marta to call the private house line every Monday night at six-fifteen. I had my schedule arranged specifically for that purpose and looked forward to her call. Between writing her letters and going to visit her once a month, a once a week phone call was the only other communication I had with Marta. While the average inmate is only allowed a fifteen minute phone call, Marta's tenure (so to speak), as well as her many years of good behavior had afforded her a few special privileges. Marta had also worked as an inmate trustee in the Deputy Warden's office for nearly four years and though I could never be certain, I think Marta and the Deputy Warden were much closer than anyone realized. I know that Marta loved me dearly, but I think more often than not I was just a trophy bitch and a young piece of meat to sexually feast on. Regardless of anything, I know that Marta was faithful to me and that if she is sleeping with the Deputy Warden, it didn't start until after I was released. Not that I could blame her if she had been cheating on me with the Deputy Warden; for a woman in her mid fifties, she is hot. Long story short, Marta was allowed sixty minute phone calls.

I told Marta, in vivid detail, of my incredible passion with Lindsay and then about what my sponsor had said. Marta laughed and then asked me if my current sponsor was getting any recently. Telling her no, Marta said it was no wonder she brought that up. She's judging her insides by your outsides. Marta went on to reassure me that everything happening between me and Lindsay at this point was perfectly normal. That we had been friends for several months and that our attraction to each other had been slowly simmering up into a boil. Even though I had been boiling long before Lindsay ever even knew I existed, the fact that I was able to put those feelings aside and just enjoy being Lindsay's friend spoke volumes about how much she meant to me. The weight on my heart lifted with every word Marta spoke and the battle guns in my head finally fell silent. Marta said that when two people go from being friends to lovers, the sexual heat and passion between them is always tremendous and that contrary to popular opinion, lust is a vital and intricate part of any healthy romantic relationship. And while it was true that the alcoholic is an extremist and has tendencies to "take hostages" rather than a partner in a relationship, God never intended for us to be alone. Enjoy the incredible passion and enjoy each other's divinely given, physical sexuality, she told me. The fact that you just can't get enough of each other is exactly the way it should be right now. If it wasn't, then something is definitely wrong.