Thread: Killers Affair —  [LackingInHeart & Death by orgasm]

RE Killers Affair - LackingInHeart Death by orgasm The first thing Jillian did was look through the chain man standing. The rattle of the chains had caught Josh's attention and Jillian distractedly cock her head to the left, no camera , she thought. There was a large rectangular mirror, one way, she did not need to guess, she knew it was one way mirror during the tour of her first and last visit to the prison they had informed her that every mirror in this place was a one way mirror, to spy on the criminals. What she had to take an educated guess at was no one was behind it to watch her during her sessions. Her head rolled to the right, a feint a neck stretch if Josh happened to direct his attention back at her, the steadiness of her pupils investigated the area of the ceiling, like she was doing wrong and were to get in trouble if caught. Ah, there! A security camera. Only one. She thought one a bit strange, then again Lumbertion made up for it in areas with a higher inmate concentration. The camera wires were colors of the American flag red, white and blue cords fed the thin mangle bunch through a hole in the ceiling, to some unknown place. It was positioned at the shackled man and only the back of her head would show up on the fed-screen. Jillian poised her head back erect and hasted her eyes to look at Josh just a second before he imported his attention to her with the introduction of Maxillian Ingle. Maxillian Ingle. She had not the time to get a good look at him, and her eyes widened at the morsel of knowledge she was about to. Jillian recalled how she pictured this moment to be on her hour-long drive out here. She drove a somewhat beat-up black Ponatic Grand-Am, that up until last week had a few red and green zip ties holding the bumper to the hunk of metal- she called it The Christmas Mobile. It was in need of a new bumper, and just in time for the drive, though there were other problems with the vehicle that made the drive eminently uncomfortable. It reeked of cigarette smoke. But this was all about to be worth it, in the next moment. Her chest half puffed with translucent nervous excitement. A slight hesitation of savory cast before her gaze flicked over to the plain man in the ugly orange jumpsuit. Admittedly, she was a bit astonished that this man was here. What she had pictured was a street thug with too many tattoos or some jacked meathead with 'roid rage, someone with an edge. Apart from those glazed over eyes he was not what she had expected. Jillian tilted her head slightly and inhaled through her relaxed lips, regarding him with curiosity. At Josh's announcement of this Maxillian Ingle's crimes, or lack there of, she half stepped back to shift her weight closer to the door, her eyes cranked to the floor, focused on a chipped chunk of slate gray tile. Jillian Grant thought it was symbolic in the sense that she too was missing a piece of something that was supposed to be here a real criminal. This little dork was not what she wanted. Everything about him screamed 'frat-boy mishap', even his snob rich-boy name was a total sell out. He kinda looked like one of those assholes from the news for some trivial hooligan nonsense, he had to be one of them, he fit the bill. 'Maxillian'. She pressed her lips together in a tight smile of disappointment that still an air of politeness, even though it looked as though it pained her to do so. Josh whispered to her to not tell her first name, though his rasp tone was hardly one for a secret. A fleeting thought possessed Jillian to request she skip this man. She was so lost in her own thoughts and motives that Jillian had missed that window. Josh was on his way out. She found herself nodding to his departure and forcing herself to the chair. The door shut, it caught her eye and followed the swing. Be positive. At least he's not dangerous. And you can be pretty damn sure this dork won't sling cum at you. No rain coat with this one. She smiled to herself and glanced over at him. Honoring the pad of paper and pen she placed her entire small palm on it, dragged it to her with a swoosh, and pinched the pen between her fingers in one fluent move. All she had to do was get through this one and proceed to next. She would think of him as practice. A warm up for the other men, real criminals, that were supposed to be shackled to that chair in place of him. The man shattered the silence. Jillian did not see him as a threat, but for some reason when he mentioned her shoes, it made her tense up and cringe. Dragging each sole to hide under chair from view, only to suddenly draw them back to the bright light of the room. Jillian gave a shake of her head and half smirked at herself, she remembered that she should not care what remarks this man made. She looked down to her shoes and lifted one foot to dangle in the air, enough only to draw attention. The black shone an reflected from the light above. Oh, you do like them? They don't really have a heel... She smirked, gauging his reaction. Even stil... Grace was right, buy new shoes. ...ASAP. The shoe lowered and rested over its twin. He did not just shatter the silence, now he bombed it, awkwardly so, even at that. It was amusing. She furrowed her eyebrows and her eyes zoned out, looking some place else, in search for the world that he was in. The ball was in her court, yet he still jabbered. She participated and responded to the small cock comment, At least they reminded me I need to buy baby carrots. Her doe brown eyes finally returned and adjusted to the reality of the room. She showed blithe disregard for his unimportant utterance by holding up a single hand. Half of what he said did not even register. Okay... she shook her head slightly a blinked a few times. And retorted dripping sarcasm, I would have never guessed you bad at flirting. What with your, what, 6 month jail sentence? she tapped the pen on the paper and looked at him inquiringly with a tilted head, her tone fused to a condescending one, You should write a book while you're in about it, at what a great flirt you are, that is. Anyway... Jillian huffed toward the floor and half leaned back in the metal chair. Her eyes dropped to the yellow pad and scribbled something. It was actually nothing, she just wanted to express the illusion of being busy, unavailable to him. 'What uh-- she paused to search for.. a question to ask him, and nothing really came to find, she was too concerned with ending this already, eager to get to the next one. W-what are you even in here for? Seriously, for real? I don't buy what Joshua said you weren't charged for She lifted her free hand and her slender and pale middle and index finger curled to into a air quote Just be honest so we can get this over with, okay? When are your parent's going to post your bail, or visit you with cookies, or whatever it is they do for you or they let you do in prison? The pen tapped one, two, three, four times trailing impatient black dots on the yellow paper. Again. Was it over yet? Jillian already constitute with herself that she wanted nothing to do with him before he even opened his mouth. She knew all she needed to know already. The girl was here for far much more than mere interviews, a far more personal and selfish reason, even if she did not want to admit to herself.