"what else?," Randy asked. "when he finally did spank me --" "what?," Randy asked again. i told Randy that i actually had liked it. Randy was quiet...for a while, i think he was holding his breath. when i heard him exhale, i sensed him nodding again. "i thought so," he said. but i broke in and told him that i think it was just my imagination. "what do you mean?"i explained to him that my imagination was very vivid, and that sometimes i could convince myself that certain things were exactly. Still, I continued to write to Cuba and she wrote back to me. I was even allowed to send small amounts of cash to deposit into her detainee account for her buy candy and cigarettes.Most of my letters were unemotional and filled with a lot of current events which I knew she was not the least bit interested in at all. On the other hand her letters to me were willed with erotic stuff that I don’t feel right in relating to the readers at this point. My story was well-received by my peers and I even. More

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