It shouldn’t really be that difficult, even though she was exhausted. But the way their gazes were hungrily devouring every one of her curves had he... heart palpitating in approval. She stepped forward and provocatively brushed against the first guard on her way to the door, deliberately pressing her ass against his uniformed groin as she passed). He had to want her, didn’t he? And his friend? They could have her now, both of them, at the same time if they wanted, here in this cell. No one. Probably I was stereotyping her somewhat as some kind of underprivileged immigrant.Maybe her economic woes weren't so great as all that.Or maybe I was wrong about the single-parent part. I guess I'd better start asking a few questions.They got me all settled down in the softest easy chair their living room had to offer, and all three of them hit the kitchen. Soon Maria came back, carrying a little tray with a glass and a bottle of Carta Blanca, dripping cold from the fridge.How did they know I. More

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