When the hem of her skirt passed the juncture of her thighs exposing her bare lips, I could see that she had, as I had suspected, taken off her panties."See," she said, "I kept it shaved just for you."Then she dropped the skirt, reached behind her back, undid the clasp and zipper and let it fall to the floor. Next she shrugged her shoulders causing the blouse to fall down her arms and on to the floor to join the skirt. Completely naked, she walked over to me and began unbuttoning my shirt. In minutes she had me undressed too and we were holding each other tightly and kissing passionately. I began to wonder how I was going to control myself enough to keep from throwing her to the floor and fucking her silly. She backed off a little and lowered herself to her knees.She looked up at me and said, "I owe you one."She reached over and began gently fondling my cock and balls. By this time I was as hard as I could get. She started licking up the underside of my dick from my balls to the head. Not smiling, not frowning, just watching. There was fruit on the tray, four sections of whitish-orange jackfruit. I picked them up carefully, one at a time, sitting with my knees against my breasts, my chin in the valley between them. Television. I was going on television again, that was why they gave me fruit. I ate it slowly, rocking back and forth and staring at the wall.My first time had been very hard. I hadn't wanted to read the words and I'd refused. So they'd beaten me from the waist down with truncheons of rubber hose filled with sand. I hadn't been able to walk or even stand, but I'd been able to read what they told me to as I sat on a chair. My face had not been marked then, not once, nor had my arms or shoulders. Any part of me that would be seen by my friends and family was clean and soft and unbruised. It shamed me.The second time I'd been more ready and I protested silently, staring into the camera as if my eyes would tell the truth. My voice was a flat monotone.
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