tagLetters & TranscriptsFolsom Prison Blues

Folsom Prison Blues


Young, James DC#45896
c/o Folsom State Prison
300 Prison Road
Represa, CA 95671

April 16, 2005


Every morning I check the calendar. Twenty-seven days, baby. I'm marking it with big red X's, one day at a time. I can feel you closer to me even now. When I close my eyes, I swear I can feel your heart beating with mine, and it whooshes a constant "soon-soon, soon-soon" in my ears. I can't help wanting you here—wanting you. God, wanting you so much. Now. Twenty-seven days feels like forever, even though we've already waited this long. So long.

I woke up this morning at 6:30, the sun coming into my window, listening to the first call of the birds, the morning air cool and a little damp. That sweet smell filled my head and I immediately knew that I was awake and alive and aware and didn't want to stay in bed another minute. I wake up that way every day since you told me you're getting out. It still doesn't feel real.

Soon you'll be with me—just lazing in bed. Imagine it, a morning like this one, with me in your arms. Can you? God, I can't wait. How can twenty-seven days feel like an entire lifetime? My stomach is in knots all the time now. I'm hardly eating and Clara keeps telling me I'm getting too thin, making me more pasta every time I go over there. It's like she thinks it will fix everything…

She and I were talking about you. Were your ears burning? She takes all the credit, you know. As if she knew, when she asked me to write to you when you were"having a hard time, and just needed a friend," that I was going to fall madly in love with you?! Okay… maybe she did know, somehow.

Maybe it was that obvious that I needed a friend… more than a friend. So much more. Everything about you is precious to me now. I still have everything you ever sent to me, tucked away in a box under my bed, did you know that? (Our bed—Jimmy, this will be our bed in less than a month… the thought makes my heart race…) You touch me in places so deep that it feels like a wound sometimes.

I know you said that you're afraid—of how it might be, awkward or strange between us, when we finally meet. It can't be, Jimmy. It just can't be. We've clicked since the very first time we set pen to paper and everything has poured out since. Think of all the things we know about each other, all of the things we've shared. My heart is open to you—remember what I told you about my father? I've never shared that with anyone.

We have so much together, just here on paper. To think it wouldn't expand into something even more wonderful than we have now? It's impossible. You've given me your heart, too, I know it. The letter I read over and over is the one where you told me about what happened—how the accident left her in a coma, how you ended up where you are. Sometimes you really have to hit bottom before you get sober. I know. There but for the grace of God go I…

But I read it over and over because you opened yourself up completely in that letter, and nothing has ever been so beautiful to me. I've never known another man who could make me feel that way, who could pour himself into me like water until I feel drunk with you. It's beyond me, truly it is.

Did they let you have the book? It seems harder to get books past the screeners than letters, doesn't it? (My students are really enjoying it, by the way, and I'm surprised that they really "get" a great deal of it. I can't imagine being eighteen and reading it for the first time. So much of what I read then was lost, drowned out in all those raging hormones, and there are things I pick up now that feel so different to me when I read them, then, even just back in college.

Not that raging hormones are a bad thing—and not that I don't still have them! Sometimes I feel eighteen again, with you. I've never been so impulsive, so wild and reckless with my feelings, as I have been since I met you. Two years, Jimmy. Two years. And now… just twenty-seven days!)

Anyway, there's a line from The Razor's Edge (I really hope they let you have it!) that goes like this:

"I was ravished with the beauty of the world. I'd never known such exaltation and such a transcendent joy. I had a strange sensation, a tingling that arose in my feet and traveled up to my head, and I felt as though I were suddenly released from my body and, as pure spirit, partook of a loveliness I had never conceived."

That's how you make me feel, every word, every letter. And now it's less than a month and we'll be together, face to face, touching each other, no longer just words and pictures. I can't help thinking about it, about you, what it will be like for us in those moments.

I wonder, too, if we'll be shy together, if it will be awkward and strange at first? But I really think it will be just as instant and magical as it has been from the beginning. Whatever connection we have, it's powerful, undeniable, and my heart beats with it. No one has ever known me, ever seen into me, like you have. I don't understand it, and I'm really learning to accept that I never will… and I don't need to.

I just feel it. That connection will carry us. It has to. I don't even imagine we'll make it to the bed, do you? I play it out in my head, a hundred different ways. I know you do, too. I can't even imagine what it's been like, five years without the sweet softness of a woman. Do you know what it does to me, just thinking about being the first woman you've touched in five years?

We couldn't stop it, you know. It's like a driving force between us now, can you imagine what it will be like when we come together? Come together… yes, come and come and come… I'm wet just imagining it.

I'll open the door, and there you'll be, your eyes dark with anticipation and lust, your bags in your hands. There might be a moment, a flicker of hesitation, your face a question, asking me, but you'll know, the minute I look into your eyes. How could you not? It's always been yes with you. My whole body is your "yes."

A skirt, that's what I'd wear for you. Short, yes, teacher-like, a button-down blouse so you could pop every one of them—just rip it down the front. Kick the door closed and come over here, baby, because I've got something warm and soft and wet for you to sink into. I'm so yours.

The hunger in your mouth on mine, your hands, pushing me, pulling me. There's a big armchair in the living room right here. You've got a picture of me sitting on the edge, wearing something similar, one knee crossed over the other. You asked me once if I was wearing panties in that photo—do you remember what I told you? I won't be wearing them when you show up at my door, either.

Wet and shaved smooth for you, just like you like it, and my dark hair pulled up and twisted around in the back. You love that teacher fantasy, don't you? I'll play anything you want me to, lover. Teacher, nurse, whore, you choose, but right now I'm just your Katie, trembling in your arms and aching to be taken and fucked.

And I know you want to and I know you will. Turn me around, Jimmy, bend me over the arm of that chair and shove my skirt up to my waist. The soft, round curve of my ass in your hands… can you feel it? We couldn't wait, I know it. I'd open my legs wide for you, reach around and grab my cheeks and spread them. Do you like what you see?

It's so pink inside, and it's been wet for hours because you're all I can think about, your cock buried in me to the hilt. I want it, and I'll show you where with my fingers, pressing deep into my cunt. Yes, my hot, wet cunt. That's what I am for you, and it's all yours—take it, baby. Fuck me until I can't breathe.

The sound of your belt buckle, the zip of your pants… god, what a sound! Can you hear the quivering moan of my anticipation, as I look over my shoulder at you? I can feel your fingers, rough and searching, finding the hole you want to fill, the one you've been aching for, dreaming about for years, the heaven you've come home to.

Is your cock hard for me, baby? Stroke it in your hand… rub it right against my pussy, up and down between those smooth, baby-soft lips. Can you feel the heat of it, the years of waiting, longing for just this moment, with me bent over and ready for you, wanting you like I've never wanted any other man? I've waited so long, and I know you've waited, too.

How long could we stay there, savoring the moment, before you plunged the steel heat of your cock into me? A minute? Two? It wouldn't be long before our appetites took over. Maybe I would moan and wiggle back, or beg you, "Please, Jimmy, don't tease me, baby. Put it in!" Or maybe it would be you, grabbing my hips and thrusting forward with a groan, saying my name as you sank into my flesh.

It doesn't matter who, or how, I just know that we couldn't wait, and we wouldn't stop until we were satisfied. It would be a wild, violent, frenzied fuck—you pounding into me, our flesh slapping together as I bent over the arm of the chair, feeling it move a little across the floor with each new thrust.

And I would beg you to fuck me. Harder, faster, deeper, more! I couldn't get enough, I can never have enough of you. There's no end to how much I want you, and the moment my pussy had you inside, I'd never want to let you go. The wet squeeze of my flesh around yours, can you feel it? Drawing you deeper, making you groan and grunt against me.

Do you see how my ass raises up in the air for you, me standing on my tiptoes, my body asking you for more? I can't help it. I'm helpless with lust, wanting you, feeling you fill me to my very depths. I'd grind back against you, rolling my hips, panting and gasping and moaning as you fucked me.

Fuck me, baby! God, please, don't ever stop.

But it couldn't go on that way, you know, burning so hot between us, for long—that delicious friction building, your cock swelling inside of me, my pussy clamping down on you with that velvet squeeze.

How long has it been since you've shot your cum inside of a woman? Since you've experienced that moment that every man lives for—burying yourself so deep inside of her that you can't tell where either of you begins or ends, that one ecstatic moment of bliss?

I want to be that woman—the one you take, fuck, and fill. Cum inside of me, baby. I want to feel you grip my hips so hard you leave bruises and shove your cock so far up into me I can almost taste your cum when you shoot it, waves of white-hot pleasure filling my cunt so full I can't contain it. Can you feel it seeping out around the edges, dripping down the weight of your balls?

So much cum in there for me… all for me. And I want every last drop. Promise me you'll save it for me, baby. Let me have it all.

Whew… I'm soaking wet now… my pussy is so swollen and I want you so much I can barely breathe. Twenty-seven days! Why does it feel like a lifetime? I can't stand another twenty-seven minutes, let alone twenty-seven days. One more red X on the calendar. One more day closer.

You make me crazy with wanting you. I say I can't wait, but I know I will. I have to. There's never been a man like you for me, and I don't think there ever will be again. Your journey home to me is almost over. And I'm waiting.

Love your,

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