Yup, starting a new fic again without updating my other ones. I suck, but eh. I'm used to it. But good news! This is my second third person POV fic. I am finally getting the hang of this.

She tried to her hardest to focus on the sounds of their flesh meeting rhythmically because if she paid further mind to the sound of his labored moaning, Nasira would no longer be in the mood.

This guy looked alright to her. A bit too stuffy for her usual taste, but no matter what they looked like, seeking out a suitable partner after midnight was a difficult task on its own. She'd regretted waiting this late for her next lay, but she had slept the entire day away and it was either now or wait until the city was alive again.

The cliché was that New York never slept, which wasn't true because before Sunday turned into Monday, the streets were at a lull. Remembering what day it was, Nasira found herself confused as to why a man would look so business savvy on a night of Sabbath.

Desperate moaning snapped her out of her thoughts and back onto the lap her last resort. With the way he was bucking his hips, she knew he wasn't going to last much longer and she was nowhere near the orgasm she so craved. Taking one hand off his shoulder, she reached inbetween them for her own release.

"NYPD. Ma'am if you could remove yourself from his lap and stand up." Trying her hardest not to shudder, she did as was told while the guy quickly adjusted himself, standing up as well.

"You two are under arrest for public indecency. If you could put your hands behind your head." Unfortunately Nasira wasn't just desperate for a partner, but for a setting. In the heat of the moment, central park seemed like a good idea, but as her Miranda rights were read to her, she could feel nothing but the weight of regret in her belly.

As a first time offender, her victim of the night only got a ticket, but since Nasira was a repeat offender, she had the option of house arrest or going to jail. As absurd as it sounded, jail sounded ideal to her. Three free meals, a bed and undoubtedly all the orgasms she could ever want; maybe even seduce a guard or two.

But she couldn't, for the life of her, take it. She tried making sense of her decision by reasoning that prison would be on her record forever, but it wasn't the truth. The truth was the last three things her mother said to her seven years ago before kicking her out of the house. The first being that she had a problem, which she didn't think so at the time, but here sitting on a hard wooden chair in a musty old courtroom, she could start to see where her mother was coming from on that one.

Second, that she was her own biggest enabler. And picking prison would fall straight into that category. The third one, the one that Nasira was sure held no truth to it was that her mother loved her with all her heart.

"I'll take the former your honor."

Two months of house arrest. That's what she signed up for and she was eager to do it. She couldn't leave to seek sex and since she didn't have any contacts in this city, sex couldn't come to her.

The cops made it very clear that the radius on her bracelet was very short. So short that if she crossed the street, she'd be out of range.

"Do you live here alone?" Her eyes widened before nodding quickly. "This is a huge place to own all by yourself. Especially at such a young age." The policeman sounded suspicious and she just wanted him to leave her alone.

"It's my friend's place. She lives out of state." He seemed pleased with that answer.

"I gathered some numbers for you, just in case." She took the paper from him to see them listed as Launderers and Grocery Deliveries nearby. "I called that first number beforehand and they're not limited to just groceries." He looked at Nasira expectantly, waiting for her expression to change. "They do miscellaneous stuff." He leaned in slightly before continuing. "Batteries…"

That definitely struck a nerve with her. "Ok officer! I greatly appreciate it." She lied, leading him out of the door. "No problem, Miss Layton. See you in two months."

She forced one final smile before closing the second door to the nice brownstone and locking it behind her.

Nasira'd been squatting around New York for years and had never secured a place so nice before. She couldn't help but to smile at her perfect timing, having found the house empty a few weeks ago.