What Royo Girl and Some Sexy Others Wrote
Click here for the previous Royo Girl post.
Excerpts, with Royo Girl’s permission, from a letter she wrote after our first visit:
I can’t describe in words how great it was to see you and spend time with you. As nerve-wracking as it all was in the beginning, it was worth any trouble. I could never have imagined how much I would miss you until I had to leave you behind there. I was overwhelmed with unexpected emotions upon my departure. I was incredibly happy and there was gleeful anticipation of seeing you again and determination to make it happen. I even sat there thinking that I need to go shopping to find the perfect top for the next visit. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and wishing you were out and hanging out with me. I have missed you intensely since the visit.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I am still in the process of analysing and sorting my thoughts and emotions on the matter. I apologize if this letter and its contents are somewhat incoherent and muddled up. I hope you understand the loop you have put me in.
Regardless of a bit of awkwardness due to the irregular circumstances, I still felt the sexual chemistry.
It seems appropriate to remind myself and you that although we could have some wicked times together and that there is definitely something there between us, it is something that shouldn’t happen. I could easily list why you are so wrong for me, but maybe that is counterproductive. At the same time, I feel like you have lit a spark inside me and I’m even happier than I was before.
I will undoubtedly be thinking of you and wanting you so much more than I should. Missing you loads! Hope you miss me too.
Excerpts from Royo Girl’s second letter following the visit:
…and then suddenly I saw you. My heart began to beat faster and I could feel my stupid cold sweaty palms. I tried to wipe them off to no avail. It made no difference.
I watched you walk in my direction and noted you weren’t actually looking at me while you walked. I was thankful for this, as it would have made my already high level of anxiety higher. Then you came over and gave me a hug and kiss. I was incredibly nervous the first fifteen minutes we were sat together at the table. I was acutely aware of what was going on, but my mind was strangely blank. There were no extra thoughts other than I needed to calm down.
We moved to a table away from the guards and began our long conversation. It was odd how normal it felt to sit and chat with you. I felt like we weren’t in prison at all. It was almost as if we were having coffee in some small café catching up on old times. I can remember thinking that you had not really changed at all and I loved it. You were the same Englishman that I remembered and was quite fond of. I am still amazed at how remarkable our conversation felt given the circumstances.
The rest of our visit does not need retelling to you. I cannot wait for you to get out of prison and see you in the outside world. I am looking forward to our future conversation and banter. Hopefully your prison exit is sooner rather than later. I miss you and will be waiting for you on the outside. Until then, keep safe and stay healthy.
Can any of you help translate Royo Girl’s statements? She wrote that getting together with me “is something that shouldn’t happen,” but she also wrote that she “will be waiting for [me] on the outside.” What’s going on here?
Here are some excerpts from letters I’ve recently received from women other than Royo Girl.
When you get out, I’ve arranged my sis to meet you and me, then we are going to strip into thongs and step into a container, and my sis will pour jelly and water over us. We will wait for it to set, and then the task is to be the first person to fight their way out of the jelly. When we get out of the jelly we will blow up an inflatable couch and look at naked pictures of my mother. Then me and my sis will lick the remaining jelly off your body and you will return the favour before we settle down in our flannel PJs watching Last of the Summer Wine, drinking Scrumpy Jacks.
That came from a lady in Norfolk.
I am writing you because your story has touched my heart. I want to get to know you no matter what you done in the past. I am a 6 feet 1 inch tall single white attractive mom of two boys. If you want a good girl in public and a whore in the bedroom, I’m her. I am looking for a long-term thing and I hope you like kids…I want more.
That came from a 26-year-old blond in Nevada.
On the bed lay the items she was planning on wearing for him tonight. A thick steel collar engraved with line drawings from the Karma Sutra, heavily padded on the inside so as not to damage the skin around her neck. A pair of vibrating nipple clamps joined with a fine chain. A pair of thigh-high boots with impossibly high spike heels. And her perfume.
That came from Sweetest Sin in Essex who should be freelancing her stories to Hustler, Penthouse and Playboy. She has given me permission to share her stories with the inmates.
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood
Postscript, Jon’s address has changed slightly to:
Santa Rita Unit
Shaun Attwood ADC#187160, 1-B-10
PO BOX 24406
Tucson, 85734, Az.
(All mail in the pipeline will still get there)