Well guys (those of you still reading at least) thanks for the positive comments, and I'm glad you found time to review this little story. There is a lot of preamble to go, so I hope you can be patient. I always feel the build up is just as interesting as the almost inevitable horizontal activity, so excuse me if I do this at my leisure (I've always been a girl who likes it long and slow, ha ha) Anyway, I got severely overheated reading Trufreak89's 'Despondent' even if the said horizontal activity was between the 'wrong' couple lol. And re reading Hyper's '6 seater table' was just as stimulating (and funny btw) There are nicer ways to pass 20 minutes, but being single at the moment, the alternative isn't an option!

Emily s evening

After that last whispered comment from prisoner F33682 Campbell N, the day went pretty much to shit. I endured an hour and a half with PO Phelps, touring the Wing and doing some routine cell visits. It went the way it normally did. Because I was with Phelps, the cons clammed up and wouldn't talk, so he had his basic prejudices about moody, uncommunicative criminals reinforced, and I got to stand around like a spare hat stand, not doing much good to anyone.

I was glad to get away, back to my paperwork, which had seemed to miraculously multiply during my wing visit. I was pretty determined to pull a veil over the incident with Naomi, especially given our present positions. Getting over familiar with any prisoner isn't encouraged, and if anyone else found out about our mutual history, even an adolescent snog would be enough to get her ghosted out at the least. She would be back in Styal in hours, and I didn't want that on my conscience. Another 3 years in there would put the lid on her institutional conditioning. Most girls who did the full stretch in a closed prison were back in months.

As I was leaving the wing at 5, I managed to bump into the one person didn't want to of course. She was just leaving the screws glass walled office, and caught my eye as I walked towards the main doors. Ignoring her would have been more noteworthy than not, so I paused and set my face in 'governor mode'

"Hello again Naomi" I said evenly, smiling with my mouth only

Her eyes engaged mine and I felt my mask slipping. God, they were a very attractive blue...

"Hello Governor" she answered, but her smile was genuine and I felt a bit mean at my coldness.

I moved closer, so that the inevitable straining ears around us couldn't make out my next sentence.

"Can you pop into my office tomorrow at 10?" I said quietly "I think we need to discuss certain events, just so we both know where we stand" I smiled again, this time with my eyes too.

I could feel the colour rising in my face as she stood there, just watching my expressions.

"Yes Miss" she said in a mock submissive voice "I am completely at your service"

Her eyes crinkled in amusement at my obvious discomfort. Fuck. She was enjoying this tap dancing around the elephant in the room we had sitting next to us.

I shook myself mentally and tried to retrieve what was a rapidly deteriorating one to one situation. I was conscious that the longer this conversation went on the sappier I looked and the more our screw/prisoner audience would start to suspect something was up.

"OK" I said firmly "10 in my office" and started to walk past her.

She smiled that knowing smile and yet again managed to get in the last word

" Something to look forward to" she said cheekily. And winked.

I glared at her in what I hoped was a definite full stop to her teasing. Unfortunately, I don't think either of us were fooled. Two nil to her, I thought bitterly, as I walked quicker than usual to the block gate and out into the gathering dusk and the relative safety of my car.

My day didn't improve afterwards either. Danny was on a late shift, so at least I got to have a long hot bath and spend a couple of hours in my dressing gown, giving a Galaxy bar some severe mistreatment. A glass or three of the Chablis I had been saving was also a temporary antidote to the feeling I had about events getting way out of control.

Firstly, I told myself sternly, I am Emily Fitch, Wing Governor and career senior civil servant. Secondly, I am used to dealing with all sorts of troublesome prisoners, and staff for that matter. It wouldn't be the first time that I would be the recipient of some unwanted attention. Girls in prison often form attachments to officers and senior staff. You have to remember that affection is something a lot of them never get, inside or out, so when someone is friendly, attentive and, lets face it, I wasn't totally unattractive.. shit happens.

But I had always been the one in total control up to now. Over affectionate staff were easier, my engagement ring and businesslike attitude mostly worked. A few quiet words in senior ears did the trick for continued pestering.

Vulnerable girls and women were handled with more discretion and tact. If they didn't learn after a quiet word, it was simple to transfer the file to another Governor or senior officer. Once you had done it a couple of times, word got about.

But this was altogether different. OK, it was years ago, when I was still working out my sexuality (yeah, and I was so in touch with myself on that score, wasn't I Emily?) And it was just a kiss (yeah again. A kiss that went on for ages, and would have certainly lead to a lot more mutual exploration if my demonic twin hadn't showed up just at the right/wrong time!)

But I wasn't that person any more, was I? I know I had done my share of experimenting at Uni. Two girls, a total of maybe 5 individual shags. All very exciting at the time, but we grow out of things don't we? Once I met Danny, I had put the girl sex thing out of my mind. Maybe the odd perv at a particularly attractive actress, but definitely no one on one shagging. I am straight, OK?

So why was it that I was spending a whole chunk of 'me' time thinking about the damaged girl who was teasing me for all she was worth , all over one stolen kiss?

I was determined to put a lid on it tomorrow. A conversation without innuendo, straight to the point, if polite. I wasn't interested in playing word games with a convicted killer with a predilection for expensive designer drugs and a preference for smartly dressed female Governors. Right. That's it. End of... Otherwise, ship out or transfer. Best all round, better for both of us. New start etc etc...

I started to wake up on the sofa sometime later. The wine had had more effect that I had intended it to. My head was fuzzy and to be honest I wasn't sure I was even awake. I felt dream like and floaty. Must have been the Galaxy, damn chocolate.

I felt too warm and in the near pitch darkness, I slipped my dressing gown off my shoulders, letting the cool air from the partially open window lower my temperature. I could feel my nipples erecting at the abrupt change, but it wasn't unpleasant, more stimulating really. I mean, I hadn't, you know, for weeks. Danny was usually too drunk or tired to try to talk me into anything mutual, and to be honest, I was more relieved than frustrated on that score. Bit of a wham bam man really. His clumsy attempts at oral pleasure were so amateurish, it was laughable. I had tried, in the early days to give him some self taught tips (thanks to some very enjoyable experiences with that girl at Uni – Sarah, wasn't it?) but he was impatient, and usually moved his mouth/tongue/fingers, whatever, just at the moment I was starting to get into the mood. It was simpler to let him climb on me and finish, so I could get some sleep. Romantic huh?

But in this dream like state, I was starting to reshow those old mental home movies, I had used for years to get off. So who would be the star of my show tonight, I mused, as I trickled my finger tips across the tips of my nipples, making them hard and responsive in seconds. I haven't got big tits, but I like what I have, small, firm and round, they suit me (modest, much?)

Anyway, a minute or so of cupping and playing with them made my mind up. I could see the green glow of the clock face on the cooker through the kitchen door from my position on the couch. It was 11.45pm. Danny didn't get off till 12.30 and I planned to get off well before that! I grinned to myself at that thought. Wicked me. Emily Fitch, half naked on the sofa, squeezing my tits like a sex starved con, and planning much more fun in the next few minutes.

I slipped the cotton belt from my waist and allowed the robe to fall fully open, and slid round until I was on my back. I smirked again. If Danny were watching this, even his crayola dick would be paying attention. But enough about him. There was no way I was gonna achieve any satisfaction weaving a sex fantasy around my fiancée...

I settled back and made lazy circles on my stomach, relishing the feel of my fingers on my freshly bathed skin. I smelt good, and was starting to smell faintly like sex. That was unexpectedly nice...

A few more minutes of that, and I found my mind wandering to previous sexual encounters, always a good way to bring things to a climax pretty quickly. Sarah's long blonde hair swam across my minds eye. That pony tail, that clever tongue. I groaned at the memory of her head moving between my legs. Warm wet sensations and those athletes hands pushing my legs open to give her better access. I arched back and allowed my legs to spread wide. God, I was getting turned on. I slipped a finger between my legs and began to make smaller lazy circles, this time in one particular place. I could hear the small liquid sounds of my increasing arousal. This was not going to take long.

My left hand continued to knead my breasts and my middle finger slipped in and out, then round and round. My breathing got fast and ragged pretty quickly after that. A kaleidoscope of sexual images rotated in my overheated imagination. Sarah's face, down there, licking me frantically, eyes fixed on my changing expressions. The other girl at Uni, Zoe?. She liked to tie my hands to the bed rail with silk scarves before fucking the shit out of me with straight fingered eagerness. I bucked and writhed as the images blended and increased in wildness. Hot kisses, heavy breasts flat against my own, urgent cries and beautiful filth being whispered in my ear. I'm such a pushover for dirty talk...

I started to get there, and my fingers increased speed. My other hand joined it, pressing straight fingers inside as I circled and teased with the other. Another image blasted out of my imagination searing my brain with its simplicity and power. Naomi Campbell, blonde and naked, breasts swaying, kneeling over me. That knowing smile on her face, her hands all over and most importantly, inside me. I lost it then. I pumped my hips up to meet my fingers and cried out louder than I had ever done during sex, with or without a partner present.

"Oh Jesus" I moaned "Naomi baby, I'm coming"

And I did. So hard and so long that I was completely exhausted afterwards, unable to do anything other than curl up on one side and rock myself gently. The aftershocks still making my muscles jump and my thighs clench...

"Oh shit" I remember thinking, "I'm in serious trouble here"

Just how much trouble I was about to find out.

The front door slammed open and hit the wall. A slightly drunk but very agitated Danny stumbled across the carpet towards me, his uneaten lamb kebab spilling onto the floor as he reached me. The gamy smell nearly made me gag as I looked up at his red and sweating face. Luckily I had at least covered myself with the robe, even if the belt laid on the floor beside the couch. I looked into his eyes and wondered how much he had heard.

Enough I guess

"Who the fuck is Naomi?" he said through gritted teeth, eyes hunting the room for my phantom lover

"I'm screwed" I thought. "How am I gonna talk myself out of this?" I had a feeling Danny and I would be up late tonight. A long conversation about our relationship status was well overdue...

Thanks for reading, if anyone has been. Hopefully I can now move on to matters more pertinent to the actual fucking plot I have in my head. Why why why, as James Fitch so memorably put it, can I not imagine these two without rampant sex shoehorning into the chapters. Cold shower and more plot development Nancy, I hear you say. Quite right, although after re reading Hyper's IHAFICC, I think rampant sex is well undervalued. God, that lady can write enthralling plots laced with toe curlingly good shagging!

See you on the other side. Review, damn you, ha ha.