The Francisco Seven [multiple celebrities] [complete]

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Roselyn discreetly slipped the capsule into her pants, all out of Jase’s line of vision. The goodbye kiss she gave Hayden, however, he got to see. “Show’s over,” he said to himself, and made to check his watch to see when he’d HAVE to leave for the next section.
“See you in about an hour,” Roselyn whispered, and got up to leave.
Hayden discreetly coughed, and rolling her eyes Roselyn bent over. As the blonde started to remove the leggy brunette’s pants, Jase got ready for act two; it wouldn’t be like it was the first time he was ever late on his rounds.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Remy Hadley could be a maze, especially in the lower sections. But almost every prisoner who’d been in the place more than two or three weeks knew the way to the Laundry first hand. Shay Mitchell had her first day working Laundry after a week in the joint, and had been given regular returns to the place every week since. It was easy for her to make the twists and turns down the various hallways, past locked storage rooms and abandoned isolation cells until she reached the hot, humid room where all the prison’s washing was done.
A sheen of sweat hit Shay almost at once, steam rolling about the room and actually obscuring her view of the dozens of washers and dryers that lined the walls, as well as some of the half-dressed prisoners working down in the bowels of the place.
“Hey, Shay,” a voice called out. A moment later, a cart filled with clean uniforms came rolling out of the clouds, pushed by Ellen Pompeo. Ellen had stripped down to her prison bra, but was carrying her shirt, no doubt ready to get dressed again before heading out to deliver the uniforms.
“Hey Ellen,” Shay replied, unzipping her own uniform top. It was so hot in the Laundry - some fault with the old dryers that caused them to bleed off heat and moisture as they worked - that most of the prisoners preferred to wear as little as possible while they were down here. Shay certainly didn’t mind - it made the view oh-so-much more pleasant.
Shay didn’t plan on staying long, so she kept her tank-top on, but the top half of her prison jumpsuit came off quickly, and she tied it around her waist as she worked her way deeper into the fog. She passed other prisoners working away, others just hanging out, and more than one couple making out - including Claire Holt and Margarita Levieva actually having sex on one of the running washing machines. The steam provided prisoners a hint of privacy and sometimes that was all it took.
Shay wasn’t here to work, or do her own laundry, but considering how close they were to breaking out, Shay needed to both get something, and say goodbye to someone.
“Watch that bleach, Indiana - we want these prison jumpsuits to stay orange! Lauren, you might as well take that tank top off and throw it in with that load, you’ve sweated through it enough. Taylor Cole! Amy Adams! Stop fighting this instant before I call the guards and you two are sent to solitary for a week!”
“I’ll never know how you see all that in this soup,” Shay said, approaching the woman running the Laundry. Holly Marie Combs had once been a prisoner at Remy Hadley having been part of her own high profile criminal gang. But upon being arrested, Holly had decided to go straight - while going

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gay for then-Warden Alyssa Milano. After her sentence had ended, Alyssa had made sure Holly had gotten hired on as the head of the Laundry, and she hadn’t gone anywhere since.
Holly, well versed in the heat the Laundry room could give off, wore a light, open dress that was bright yellow and showed off plenty of skin. Normally, that sort of thing would’ve been forbidden in a prison, but the new Warden hadn’t wanted to disrupt the deal with Holly that Warden Alyssa had going, so Holly essentially got away with a lot. Including bedding any prisoners who caught her eye while working in the Laundry. Shay didn’t need to look up Holly’s skirt to know the older woman wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Shay!” Holly said, smiling warmly. “You aren’t on shift down here for two more days.”
“I know, Holly,” Shay said. “But I was hoping you had that package for me.”
Holly smiled slyly. A former prisoner herself, Holly knew how important it was for prisoners to get little trinkets and luxuries behind bars. And as one of the few unsearched people to have access to the prisoners directly, she was in a unique situation of being able to smuggle in things. She drew the line at weapons or drugs - not even alcohol. But if someone wanted some headphones, or a book, or even a sex toy, Holly was willing to increase her meager prison paycheck by sneaking something in every now and then. Her prices were insane - usually double whatever the item in question was - but she always got whatever it was. It just might take some time.
“Sure, I got it,” Holly said. “Wasn’t a problem at all.”
“So… can I have it?” Shay asked.
“You know, I usually charge to get stuff in here.”
“But they’re free - find them at any newsstand,” Shay pointed out.
“And I didn’t pay a penny for the one I have,” Holly agreed.
“So, what, you want me to give you money for a free item?”
“I said I want payment, Shay. Not money.” As she spoke, Holly gazed pointedly at Shay’s ample cleavage.
“Oh,” Shay said, catching on.
“Yeah, ‘Oh,’” Holly said. “You’ve got a great body, Shay.”
“You can save your flattery, Holly,” Shay said. “It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve had to pay for something with sex in this place.”
“I love a smart girl,” Holly said, reaching over and cupping one of Shay’s breasts through her bra. “Come on over to the pile.”
Shay sighed. The pile was quite literally a pile of dirty laundry. Mostly sheets from the prison beds, there was also uniforms and underwear thrown in there, towels from the showers, and some other odds and ends that needed washing. No matter how much laundry was done in Remy Hadley, there

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was always more to be done. When it came down from whatever part of the prison was getting their stuff cleaned today, it was all dumped out into a giant pile. Holly would send prisoners over to sort the stuff every so often, but the pile never really managed to shrink somehow. How Holly knew where to send the stuff, no one knew, but no one had ever gotten so much as the wrong sock, so no one complained.
Holly’s hand slipped down to Shay’s ass as they walked through the steam towards the pile. Shay was honestly a little surprised that this was the first time Holly had tried to take advantage of her. Shay had gotten a few things in with the laundry woman before, and always paid for them with what little cash she’d been able to scrape up around the prison. She’d known Combs found her attractive, and the feeling was mutual, but Holly always seemed to bed some other prisoner instead - including Grace on one occasion, right in front of Shay.
“Why don’t you take your clothes off and leave them over here?” Holly suggested, pointing towards an empty work bench. Shay sighed, and took off her bra first, letting Shay and anyone else who could peer through the steam ogle her chest first. By the time she stepped out of her prison issue panties, she could hear the whispers of those prisoners just out-of-sight in the laundry. While the steam offered some privacy, everyone also knew exactly what you were doing, and if they wanted to watch, there really wasn’t anything you could do to stop them.
“Oh, you are just beautiful,” Holly said, walking around Shay, admiring the younger woman’s curves. “They must eat you alive upstairs. Do you get fucked every day?”
“Not every day,” Shay said.
“Well, let’s get you off today, shall we?” Holly said. “Time to pay the piper, my dear.”
With that, Shay stepped over to the pile, dropped to her knees, and turned just in time to see Holly pull up the skirt of her dress, exposing her pussy to the prisoner. Shay leaned forward a bit and got to work at once, sliding her tongue into Holly’s box and immediately tasting the sweet and sour juices the older woman was pumping out like crazy. Shay got a little thrill as that taste hit her - getting to feast on Holly Marie Combs was a rather wonderful way to pay off a debt.
“Mmmmm… such a skilled tongue!” Holly groaned in delight, gently sliding one of her hands into Shay’s hair, lightly holding the prisoner closer to her crotch. Shay took that as a sign to lick harder, making sure to slide her tongue all the way out and up and over Holly’s erect little clit. The Laundry matron moaned her approval, and Shay kept that pace up for several long minutes.
It was all Mitchell could do to not reach between her legs and touch herself while feasting on Combs’ juices. Shay was already regretting never finding an excuse to fuck Holly before this, but the taste was intoxicating, and Shay found herself thinking that if for some reason the escape plan failed, at least she’d be able to lick Holly every day for the rest of her life trapped here in Remy Hadley.
Part of what made this so hot for Shay was that she knew she was being watched. Other prisoners, guards, maybe even security cameras were focusing on them through the steam, seeing Shay naked on her knees, servicing a woman she barely knew. It certainly wasn’t the first time Shay had performed for a live audience before - one of her first post-family cons had involved performing as a

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stripper at a lesbian bachelorette party that went WAY out of hand. But every time Shay got naughty in front of some others, she got a little extra thrill out of it, and this certainly wasn’t any different.
Holly was panting hard and heavy now, her fingers tightly gripping Shay’s hair, keeping the con woman’s head locked to her crotch. Her juices were flowing faster now, and Shay had licked more than enough girls to know Holly Marie Combs was getting awfully close to an orgasm. And when Shay Mitchell knew just how to bring her over the edge. Carefully, she edged her hand up Holly’s leg, intending to slide a pair of fingers into the dripping wet snatch-
-only to have Holly suddenly push her back hard enough that Shay went sprawling into the pile of dirty laundry behind her.
“Not yet,” Holly hissed, clearly trying to get ahold of her own body’s reactions. “I have to taste you first, Shay.”
Shay leaned back and watched in amazement as Holly lifted her entire dress up over her head in one quick movement, giving Shay plenty of reason to believe Holly’s breasts were works of wonder. Now as naked as Shay was, Holly dropped to her hands and knees, and quickly crawled between Shay’s spread legs, kissing and licking the insides of her thighs until she reached Shay’s steaming honey pot.
Shay’s eyes went wide as Holly dropped her mouth down right atop the prisoner’s clitoris, practically drilling at the bud. Shay felt her head roll back on her shoulders, and wanted to reach forward and grab Holly’s hair like the older woman had done to her, but Shay could barely keep her body up on her elbows, the ferocity of Holly’s tongue lashing keeping her from being able to do much more than moan in delight.
There was some laughing and cheering from somewhere in the steam around them, but Shay couldn’t figure out who - and didn’t care. If it had taken Shay a few minutes to bring Holly close to climax, it was taking the prison worker mere seconds to get the prisoner to a similar level.
“Oh god! Oh God! Holly! Holly! YES!” Shay cried out, unable to control herself. Holly’s tongue was just slamming into her clit, and each hard, wet, slippery-soft thrust was like a little piece of heaven between her legs.
“Mmm, not yet my sweet,” Holly said suddenly.
“Gah!” Shay cried out in frustration as the older woman moved her tongue off of the prisoner’s clit. Carefully, slowly, Holly traced her tongue and lips up Shay’s body, running a string of kisses past her belly button, pausing only briefly to suck once on each nipple, before continuing up Shay’s long neck. Finally, Holly placed a passionate kiss upon Shay’s mouth - and shoved three fingers into the younger woman’s snatch at the same time.
“Mmmmm!” Shay moaned into Holly’s mouth, loving the sensation. She reached down with her hand and found Holly’s pussy wet and waiting for her. This must have been what Holly wanted, because she increased the speed of her thrusts in time with Shay’s movement. Their mouths never breaking the kiss, the two women fell into the dirty laundry, pounding away at each other until neither one could take it any longer.

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“Oh fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Shay bellowed as orgasm overcame her, arcing her back and sending her eyeballs rolling about in her head. Holly hit her climax at the same time, her body going limp atop Shay’s, convulsing a little at the hips as she squeezed her eyes tight against the wave of bliss. For several long moments, they lay there in the pile of dirty clothes, each cumming in their own way.
Then, suddenly, Holly was getting up, searching for her dress. Shay blinked, surprised to find the other woman moving on so quickly.
“Your clothes are over there, sweetie,” Holly said. “I’ve got that item you wanted back over here.”
Shay hurried to get redressed and follow, barely snapping her bra together before Holly stopped and handed her exactly what she’d came for.
“And for the record, Shay,” Holly added, “you can pay for anything you want with sex from now on.”
“Mmmm… hope I need something else soon,” Shay said, winking at Holly. Shay promised herself that if she did get stuck back in Remy Hadley, she’d come right to Holly and request something. Anything.
“What do you need real estate listings for, anyway?” Holly asked as Shay left the Laundry.
* * * * * * * * * *
Shay rushed back to her cell, ignoring all the other prisoners and guards - though she suspected Brad, who spotted her running through the hallways, might follow her. If he did, it might actually help sell what she had to do next. Witnesses tended to do that.
When Shay and her friends escaped, they would need a place to lay low. While they gave some thought to staying with Troian, Hayden and her lover lived in a small apartment, and that would certainly be one of the first places the cops would come searching for them. Same for Roselyn’s girlfriend, Alicia’s place. Or really, any other connection any of them had ever had - sooner or later, working down the list, the cops would come looking for the escaped prisoners. That left them looking for a place to hide out that no one had ever heard of before…
Holly Marie Combs had seemed a little skeptical of Shay’s reasons for wanting a real estate brochure. Shay had explained that she wanted to post some pictures of places she might live when she got paroled from prison. Of course, none of the girls accused of robbing the bank would ever be up for parole, so if Holly knew that, she’d know Shay was lying. But that was okay, too. Just like Brad, who was now idly watching Shay from down the hallway and doing a poor job of looking like he wasn’t staring, the more Holly thought she knew, the better.
Shay flipped through the book slowly, spending extra time admiring the more expensive and larger places. She read carefully, ruling out any place where someone was still living inside. But as she went, she circled some of the fancier foreclosures, including a large add for a multi-million dollar mansion out in Marin County that some investment banker had lost when his investments went belly-up. Shay went through the entire book, circling several similar places. Finally, towards the back, she got to what she was really looking for.
It wasn’t just mansions or homes that were being abandoned in the bad economy. Right there, just outside of San Fran itself, was an entirely abandoned apartment complex on the south side of San

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Fran. Shay tried to hide her smile as she memorized the address, then flipped back to that investment banker’s mansion she’d circled earlier. It wasn’t the mansion itself that she was so interested in - it was all the blank space around the add, perfect for writing down the address she’d just memorized.
Quickly scribbling the address down, Shay now took great care to rip out the mansion’s listing, making sure all the information was contained, leaving nothing behind. She glanced up and saw Brad giving her a quizzical look. She smiled, but sighed to herself. She’d have to distract the Y-chromosome carrier, and there really was only one good way to do that without having to actually TOUCH him. She’d have to show him something instead.
One of the things Shay had paid Holly to smuggle in earlier was a bottle of skin lotion - something from Victoria’s Secret, ironically - that she used to keep from getting all dry and itchy in the prison. She usually waited for this time of day to apply it, when most of the other prisoners and guards were elsewhere, giving her some hint of privacy to strip down to her bra and panties and cover her arms, legs, and chest with the lotion. It had been a habit for several weeks now, and while she hadn’t intended to use it as such, it would now serve as the perfect distraction for a horny guard who was enjoying the show.
Shay quickly shrugged out of her shirt, leaving herself in just her prison bra. Brad’s eyes went wide - none of the male guards had gotten anywhere with Shay, so this was a bit of a treat. She started with her legs, quickly applying the lotion and rubbing it in. She was normally more thorough, but Brad didn’t know that. She moved up to her chest, and once more glanced at the guard - his eyes were locked on her skin, his pants tenting noticeably.
Feeling like she’d need a good shower after this, Shay let her left boob pop out of the bra. Brad’s eyes went wide, and Shay gasped, pretending to be surprised. Quickly, she shoved the escaped breast back into the bra - and shoved the ripped piece of paper into her bra with it. Quickly, she finished applying her lotion and shot Brad a dirty look before getting dressed again. He didn’t seem to mind, but kept watching, even after she was clothed again.
There was one last thing Shay had to do - hide the real estate magazine. Treating the now almost-useless magazine as a small treasure, Shay lifted up her mattress and hid the ill-gotten item up near where her head went, safely out-of-sight. None of the other prisoners would know about it, but Brad would. And that was actually all she needed him to see.
As soon as the San Fran Eight made their escape, the cops would be all over Remy Hadley, looking for clues about where they might have gone. They wouldn’t find any, because until this very moment, none of the girls knew where they were going, nor did Troian helping them on the outside. Only Shay now knew, and she wouldn’t tell anyone until they were in the getaway vehicle. If something happened to her, they’d have to find somewhere else to hide, but Shay wouldn’t be able to betray them, either.
It would have been child’s play for Grace to get the information from the prison computers, but then they would’ve known they were looking at apartment buildings as well as abandoned homes - there was no hiding internet history on a prison computer. So Shay had used Holly to smuggle in the listings. Everything Shay had done since getting them was designed to throw the cops off their trail.

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Holly knew Shay had the listings. Brad knew where she’d hidden them, and that she tore a piece out. When the cops got a hold of the listings, they’d match the missing piece up with another copy of the listings, and know right where the escaped prisoners were running.
Except they’d be on the other side of San Fran, hiding out in a run-down apartment complex. Shay figured that would buy them a fair chunk of time, at least.
The only question was if it was long enough to find Rhona Mitra or no.
* * * * * * * * * *
“What took you so long, babe?” Emma asked Shay, reaching up to kiss her as she entered the library.
“I had a few errands to run.”
“Errands for who, Mocha Buns? The Limey warden’s already got Jailbait for that,” Jaime pointed out.
“I’m 20, forgotten?” the safecracker huffed.
“You still look like a kid, kid.”
“Fight about it later,” Roselyn chided as the gang, all together now, moved in around the terminal Grace was sitting at; Megan nervously eyed the entrance.
“Relax,” Blake told her. “It’s always pretty slow in the afternoon and no one’s around this time of day. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, we got the place to ourselves till closing time,” Emma assured Megan as Roselyn took the capsule out, handing it to Grace.
“Okay, Hayden… let’s see what babygirl fucked into you this time,” the computer girl said as she separated the two halves of the vial above the desktop, grateful yet again for her slim fingers. A little computer chip dropped onto the surface, not too far from a small blue flashdrive – this was another little gift Grace had gotten for services rendered to the guards. It had been the first one she’d received following a session with Gemma and Katharine McPhee (and unfortunately the last before that juicy little guard had taken up a new job at an all-male prison); Grace had told them that she needed something to store her anime porn on. Which was true, but it wasn’t on this one.
As the other members watched, Grace opened up the drive and inserted the chip. As with the others, it wouldn’t be in there for long – just long enough to get the intel. Plugging in the flashdrive, Grace logged in with Emma’s password. The screen soon gave way to a pleasant mountain scenery wallpaper, and almost no icons. Except one folder, which nominally contained info on books brought out and returned (or books not returned).
But first, Grace opened the contents of the flashdrive to send them into the system, praising the powers that be that this was a fast PC. Within seconds, the file was in the computer, and a couple of clicks later the goods were on the screen. Eight pairs of eyes noted the image.
“So that’s it?” Roselyn asked.

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“That’s it,” Grace replied, copying the image and opening the folder. “Let’s finish this jigsaw.”
Emma leaned in particularly close as Grace manoeuvred the image onto its place in the opened folder, zooming in to make sure it clicked in perfectly. When she was satisfied, she zoomed out and sat back.
“And that, ladies, is our way out of here,” she announced.
The jigsaw was a simple puzzle, one made out of eight of the nine files Troian had gotten in to them. The pieces had been copied themselves and placed inside the folder before the chips from whence they came were destroyed; each piece was a square, and each piece showed part of the layout for Remy Hadley. The layout of the prison was shown on the map in bright red - but more importantly, what was underneath was there as well in blue.
Up in the mountains the prison may have been, but it still needed a sewage system – and it was the pipes that interested them. Long tunnels had been dug through the rocks when Remy Hadley was built, and like all tunnels they not only had to end somewhere but start somewhere; there were two ways in they’d had an eye on, one on the northeast and the other on the southwest.  The southwest entrance was located in their cellblock towards the end, and that was the one they were going to use.
“My friend in the machine shop’ll get me what I’ll need to get in,” Megan told them. “We’ve all been there, right?”
They all nodded, as Emma and Shay studied the screen intently, paying close attention to the two green lines in amongst the blue signifying the pipes - as well as two ways in, there were also two ways out. One was for maintenance workers to go in, the other was… well, for the prison’s waste product to leave Remy Hadley and go on a long journey to the purifying plant at the base, in the form of a mountain river that none of them wanted to swim in. Climbing down would be, frankly, less gross. Also, the outlet had one advantage – it was nearer to the safest route down to the ground. This had been indicated on the ninth file, which had been the first one Troian had sent; that file had contained the topography of the mountain, and the route to take had been included.
As Rhona had told them, Emma was good at observing details – combined with Shay having the best memory of the lot what with her having had to impersonate a bank clerk, the two had been given the job of leading the gang through the tunnels.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just print the pieces off?” Blake had asked when Roselyn had made that decision.
“And risk them being found?” the leader had replied. “We know they can remember the details.”
Curiously, Blake hadn’t been so upset about wandering through shit to get out. None of them were.
Now the robbers watched Emma and Shay standing there, the latter with her eyes shut. She looked as if she was sleeping, but she was simply checking it over in her mind, going over each turn of both routes; she opened her eyes and looked at the screen once more.
“You set?” Emma asked.

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“Follow The Leader’s a go,” Shay told her. “We could get out of here in the dark.”
“We ARE getting out of here in the dark,” Blake pointed out. “After 10, remember?”
“Very good, Blake,” Emma said sarcastically. “So that’s eight things you can keep in your head instead of seven.”
“Any idea about the weather?” Roselyn asked hastily before Blake could grab Emma.
“We might be in for a little storm,” Grace answered. “If we’re on the ground by then we’ll be fine, if we’re still climbing down when it hits…”
“A chance we gotta take,” Jaime said. “A little rain ain’t gonna put me off.”
“Let’s just hope that’s all we get,” Roselyn replied. “Better get out of here, and thanks again for Troian’s help.”
“Once this is wiped, I’m outta here,” Grace said lazily, starting to delete. “My Japanese schoolgirls won’t watch themselves.”
Blake rolled her eyes as she started to lock up.
“Us Italians are very hot-blooded,” Hayden cracked to Shay and Megan as they left for their cells. “But hey, if it gets too cold for me I’ll have seven hotties to warm me up.”
“Eight,” Shay corrected.
“Make that nine,” added Megan.
“Did I miss a memo here?” Shay asked.
“Apparently we both did,” Hayden said, raising an eyebrow.
* * * * * * * * * *
Another day dawned at Remy Hadley, the sun bringing his rays over the mountain ranges and the buildings intruding on them. And like most mornings in the cell Shay Mitchell and Blake Lively shared, Shay was awake before Blake, listening to the far-off sounds of birds and the far-closer sounds of Blake’s quiet breathing as she slumbered.
She looked at the small bundle that was lying next to her; her family had managed to get the odd bit of “home” comfort to her since being sent up, but like all the other members of the San Francisco Eight she had also gotten some letters of a more personal nature. Some of them were beseeching her to repent and reform (like she’d wanted to get involved with this in the first place), others were assuring her that she was going straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
And some were friendly. Very friendly. Very, very friendly. Like Leanna, the only one who Shay had actually written back to, and who had kept up the communications since then.
“Hey Butter…”
Shay smiled at her penpal’s nickname for her.

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“You don’t know how angry I get every time I hear about what some of those people put you through. What did you do, really? Someone as sweet-tempered as you should be out running free like a bird. I just wish I could come and see you…”
Shay wished that Leanna could come as well, but while her family and friends knew she was corresponding with a prisoner they thought that HE was in a facility in Texas; they didn’t know and could never know what she was really doing.
“I had another dream about you the other night,” the letter continued. “You were on the beach with me and a couple of friends, running in the surf like you didn’t have a care in the world. You were wearing clothes for some reason, but I liked it because you didn’t have a bra on under your top – made it better when you pulled off the top and threw it away.  I went and got your shirt before it could go in the sea and smelt it… even your sweat makes me hot.
“You dived in for a swim and came back out, all dripping wet and naked and beautiful and wonderful; then I stripped myself and kissed you. You tasted like strawberry chocolate, just like in your slot. You held in my arms and told me you loved me, and then you gave me a surprise!
“You had yourself a fish in your hands – a pretty big one. I didn’t know you were a Led Zeppelin fan …”
Shay looked a little puzzled, before she remembered. She knew where THIS was going. And liked it.
“It was quite a catch; you placed the head of the fish on my slot and I trembled when I felt it. You kissed me again as you pushed the fish into me, and I held you as it thrashed around inside. Screw PETA, this was the best… then you pulled it out, and gave it to me and I returned the favour. I loved seeing your gorgeous face gaping as you felt that thing inside you, wrigging and wiggling (almost as nice as how YOU wiggle, I bet!).”
“Thanks,” Shay couldn’t help saying out loud, and immediately hoped Blake hadn’t heard. Nope, up above the blonde still slept.
“Then I pulled the fish out, and I swallowed it whole. Feeling it slither down my throat and into my tummy – and it tasted even better after it was in you… I didn’t want to wake up, so it’s too bad my boy had to start up his bike and ruin everything. At least I can keep it ‘digesting’ forever and not… you know…”
Shay nodded. She knew.
“PS Hope the enclosed warms you up a little; these are a couple from the last time I was with my boy. Wish I could show this to you in person.”
The dusky young woman picked up the pictures that had been enclosed; one was of Leanna on her bed, wearing a bright smile and nothing else. The other had the beautiful redhead standing by her wardrobe, looking back over her shoulder in the same “costume.”
Studying the two snaps, Shay wished she was telepathic so she could send Leanna the message that the warming up was accomplished.

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* * * * * * * * * *
“Hey, Popi…”
Roselyn Sanchez had been called that in most of her pleasant dreams all the while she’d been detained in Remy Hadley, and they all dealt with Alicia Keys. Sometimes she was called that when she was awake, and sometimes it was by Alicia – but when it was at this time of the day, when almost no one else was awake, it was always by Zoe Kravitz.
Zoe had taken to getting out of her bunk and snuggling up with Roselyn ever since the time in the showers; she liked seeing in the sunrise with her arms around the woman. Sometimes she awoke so early the sun wasn’t even up yet, but this morning wasn’t one of them – the better for her to see the lovely, olive-skinned Roselyn Sanchez with. There was another reason she liked to get into her cellmate’s bunk; sometimes, probably when she was thinking about Alicia and got carried away, she fell asleep naked. Like last night.
Cuddling close to Roselyn, Zoe rested her head on the older woman’s breasts and treated herself to a close look at her right nipple. Not the biggest she’d ever seen, but they looked hard even when she was asleep, as if she was dreaming about Alicia. The young woman placed her rosy lips on Roselyn’s breast, gently suckling – oh, her kid (if it was her turn to carry the child the second time around) would be so lucky… Zoe felt a few tiny drops of milk seeping from Miss Sanchez, and sucked harder, wishing she had two heads so she could enjoy both at once.
“No,” Roselyn said gently, lifting away Zoe’s head. “Your breasts are more succulent than mine… let me have a taste.”
Zoe’s pussy flooded almost at once as Roselyn slipped down the bed a little, opening her eyes at last and facing the young girl’s gorgeous rack. Roselyn put one of Zoe’s nipples between her lips, sucking it slowly and tenderly and starting to milk the young woman. Zoe was so beautiful she had flirted with fitting her in with the group – but no; they had almost too many people as it was, and all of them had a reason to be there. If lust was the main reason for joining the escape they’d all have had hangers-on. (Well, maybe not Blake and Jaime.)
“Sing,” she whispered.
Sighing as Roselyn’s mouth kissed the soft flesh of her chest while her free hand fondled the other breast, Zoe quietly started to sing. It was a ditty Roselyn had asked her to sing the first time they’d made love; it was a gentle song, about happy times.
“Some people live for the fortune… some people live just for the fame… some people live for the power, yeah… some people live just to play the game…”
It was a song that Alicia liked to sing from time to time, one that always reminded Roselyn of her missing love. It was a song that Roselyn had never told Zoe the meaning behind, but which Miss Kravitz had suspected from the start. Still, she loved singing, and she loved pleasing Roselyn.
“…but I don't want nothing at all if it ain't you, baby… if I ain't got you, baby…”

[Cindylover1969]

Drawing her lips away from Zoe’s tits, Roselyn began to gently lick more of her torso. Her body had the same kind of caramel coating Alicia had, and she was so warm… it was killing Roselyn that she didn’t have any instruments to use on her. She’d fisted Alicia once, but she’d never forgotten how she had unintentionally hurt her by pushing it in way too hard, and Roselyn had sworn she would never do that again. Kissing Zoe’s flat stomach, she cursed Jane and Cate for confiscating her stuff when her time in solitary had been up… if only it had been Scarlett the Harlot. At least she knew from experience she’d have gotten them back.
“Hand me the world on a silver platter, and what good would it be?... With no one to share, with no one who truly cares for me… some people want it all, but I don't want nothing at all if it ain't you, baby…”
As beautiful as Zoe Kravitz’s bushy little pussy was, Roselyn Sanchez could never go beyond licking the tiny cuntlips – slipping her tongue inside always, as in ALWAYS, broke the spell. The one time she had done it she had loved the taste of it on her tongue, tangy and sweet. But Zoe, as wonderful to eat as she was, didn’t taste like Alicia. And although she was good at giving head, Roselyn could never fool herself that Zoe’s tongue and Alicia’s moved the same way;  Zoe tried her best and she’d made Roselyn come every time, but somehow Alicia always managed to find all her most sensitive areas, and no one had ever made her orgasm the way her baby could.
“…nothing in this whole wide world don't mean a thing if I ain't got you with me, baby.”
The song was finished, but the convicts weren’t. Still keeping her eyes closed, Roselyn kissed Zoe as they held each other tightly, Zoe clutching her and never wanting to let her go. The two quietly got out of the bunk onto the floor, embracing and fondling each other. Zoe kissed Roselyn’s shoulder before moving away from her, lying down beside her in the opposite direction. Glancing at her, Zoe was impressed at how Roselyn still kept her eyes closed as they took up positions; she was always more eager to do this than to be munched on (Zoe’s mouth watered at the thought of Roselyn’s box; she presumed her leg action was more like Alicia’s than the mouth, otherwise she’d have been eating her every night).
Roselyn’s lengthy left leg curled behind Zoe as the two made contact, their cunts becoming one and their breathing in rhythm with their bodies as they moved against each other. With every stroke Zoe sighed and shivered; Roselyn felt electric next to her, and their snatches together were like… like… like two things that really well together. She couldn’t resist stroking Roselyn’s back and asscheeks with her upraised leg, and the sensations between her legs jacked up several notches when Roselyn started returning the favour. The women moved against each other closer, actually feeling their clits touching now.
Roselyn’s little gasps soon became less little as she moved on; their mutual dampness was making Zoe start to cry louder as well, punctuated by a long moan as Roselyn’s big toe moved slowly along the cleft of her ass, slipping into the hole inside and wriggling just enough to excite her… if only she could do that. Damn her relatively short tootsies; she contented herself by fondling Roselyn’s ass and wishing that just once she could have Jaime’s forcefulness and take it… nah. That wasn’t Alicia’s way or Zoe’s.

[Cindylover1969]

Their cries went through most of the nearby cells, both women ignoring a disgruntled “Some of us want to sleep!” from lifer Susan Sarandon. Roselyn and Zoe gripped each other’s hands as the rubbing sped up, Zoe screaming as she felt her fluids blending with Roselyn’s. 
“Don’t leave me…” Zoe said, lowering her voice in between gasps.
“You know I have to…” Roselyn replied.
“It’s just… it’s…. it’s… AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” Zoe forgot her burden for a second as Roselyn Sanchez’s Cuban-flavoured cunt did its work, burning her up and making her give one last loud wail as she orgasmed between Miss Sanchez’s legs. Roselyn kept thrusting her lovely body even as Zoe came down, as if she wanted more from the girl (not that she minded giving it), before she let the pace stop. The glowing young woman didn’t want to break up the act, but there was no way they could get another one in to their satisfaction before official waking up time; Zoe gently separated herself from Roselyn and turned around. Had the woman’s eyes been opened she’d have taken her time to let her have a good look at her naked body, but in this condition a little scuttle around on the floor would do.
“It’s just that I don’t know if I can stick it out around here without you,” Zoe whispered, her face near Roselyn’s.
“Hey, there are plenty of women here who’d love to take you in.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Horny Helen jumped on me last month, and I think she wants to try again. Her and some of her friends…”
“I got friends too,” Roselyn assured her. “I’m going to make sure they look out for you while you’re here. You’ve got what, six months left?”
“Seven.”
“Not that long, and you’re a model prisoner. And I give you my word that once you’re out I’ll get word to you about where we are.”
"Really?"
"Sure. Joshua could use a babysitter,” she replied, adding "Hang in there, Alicia..." as Zoe giggled.
“Can you do me one little favour? Just to keep me going till I see you again… kiss me.”
Roselyn leant in close, and Zoe raised a finger.
“And don’t shut your eyes. I don’t want you to kiss ‘Alicia’ – I want you to kiss ME.”
Roselyn didn’t hesitate; finally opening her eyes, she kissed Zoe full on the mouth while looking at her all the while.
“See you on the outside, Zoe,” she said quietly. No more games.
* * * * * * * * * *

[Cindylover1969]

Hot, sweaty and very, very loud. It was just another day for Jaime Pressly and Megan Fox in the machine shop, home of some of the finest license plates produced in the continental USA. And occasionally a bit of device fixing, for the jobs too big or motor-inclined for Grace.
In her corner of the shop, Jaime set down her soldering gun and lifted the goggles from her face, giving the onceover to what she’d been working on since day one whenever no one was watching. It wasn’t the smoothest, but it wasn’t for pleasure – especially with the blade on the end.
“Perfect,” she said to herself with a satisfied nod, wrapping it in some cloths.
Megan kept stamping the plates out on the other side, glancing up occasionally to the man working the machine next to her. In between imprinted pieces of metal, she gave him a smile and a wink.
The man returned the smile, handing her some more cloths; she accepted the small package and slipped it into her uniform, her smile getting a little bigger on feeling the tools in her pocket.
* * * * * * * * *
Today wasn’t Jennifer Lawrence’s birthday, but she felt like she was getting presents galore. First of all, Denise Welch had been put in solitary for starting a fight with Kim Kardashian, so she had the place all to herself.
Second, at this point in time she didn’t have the place to herself – she was being pressed against the bars of the cell by Grace Park, the perpetually horny geek tasting Jennifer’s tender breasts and spreading her fingers into the girl’s box; if the San Francisco Eight had been a club this could count as a breaking in. Jennifer had her arms around Grace, really wanting to fling her to the ground and have a munch, but her lips felt too good for that to happen.  Too bad Grace couldn’t have brought along Lauren German, but these cells weren’t made for threeways.
Grace felt the only way Jennifer’s jugs could make this better was if she’d just given birth – new mother’s milk was unbeatable. Still, she wasn’t complaining with what she was sucking now; she moved back to check them out. Jennifer’s breasts looked even better with a little glistening of Grace’s saliva on the nipples, and knowing she kept up her braless habits in prison made Grace jealous (she liked to go commando as well, but having less to hide meant less to tease with).
To the delight of a couple of prisoners on the other side of the level who were enjoying the show, they could see Jennifer’s long, naked body up against the bars, with one of said bars resting right on her asscleft so that the buns on either side were going through the bar spaces, Had Grace been slamming any harder it would have left several deep impressions, not that Jennifer would have minded. In any case, Grace’s lips and body were moving down the girl, stopping when they got to her blonde thatch.
“So you couldn’t be bothered to get it dyed?” she asked Jennifer.
“Actually, I did,” the girl admitted. “I just didn’t get it done again before I wound up here.”
“You can’t get anyone in your family to get you any?”

[Cindylover1969]

“I don’t get visitors,” Jennifer said, forgetting naked Grace Park for a moment. “My folks disowned me after the guilty verdict.”
“Man, you got the worst hand of the game… but I got connections,” Grace grinned, stroking Jennifer’s silky pussy hairs. “Garnier or Clairol?”
“Herbal Essences, thank you very much,” Jennifer laughed, and grabbed Grace’s head. “Now shut up and eat me.”
“Your wish is my command… front or back?”
“Back. It’s been a while.”
“I can’t believe no one’s eaten that sweet ass in days…” Grace rolled her eyes as the curvy young woman moved around and waved to the two cons watching, accidentally (apparently) standing so that her pussy wasn’t blocked by any of the bars.
Grace’s arm curled around Jennifer’s waist, and pulled her backwards and down onto the floor; Grace then greeted the girl with a kiss. “They’ve had their fun, now it’s my turn. You can go on top if you want.”
“I was planning to,” Jennifer cackled as Grace turned herself around, legs spread in the best men’s magazine fashion with front and back doors both visible. Suspecting the two cons on the other side were still watching – which they were – Jennifer got up and slowly walked around to Grace’s head, letting the two see her from top to toe.
“She’ll be mine,” first convict Eva Green declared.
“Dream on,” second convict Brooklyn Decker replied.
Unaware of the prisoners fighting for her favour, Jennifer gently lay down on top of Grace, her eyes seeking out and finding the hacker’s rear entrance. Her tongue wasn’t as fast as Grace’s, who was furrowing inside Jennifer in seconds; each one had a back door that was all nice and soft and puckery, and while Jennifer’s had more… um… padding around it than Grace’s, what the latter had was fun to feel.
They were lost in each other’s rumps, each with their lips kissing the tight holes in the brief moments their tongues weren’t probing them – Jennifer loved to eat ass, boy or girl alike. And Grace’s little butt was soooo nice; her tongue kept widening the hole, and she wished she had herself some kind of synthetic dick to seal the deal. Underneath her body Jennifer felt Grace quivering as she enjoyed what she had, and Jennifer let herself smile…
Jennifer raised her head to get a brief gasp of air, and then almost lost her appetite at what she saw. There on the other side of the bars, watching them with thin lips, was Cate the Straight.
“How can you do that?” the Australian asked, one hand near her nightstick.
“It’s pretty easy,” Jennifer replied casually. “You should try it sometime with your husband.”
“Not in a million years, Lawrence,” said the guard as Grace peered round her fleshy female lover.